by Sloan Archer
“Sorry, no.”
Meredith asked, “They’re pretty big-time?”
Vanessa nodded. “One of the biggest in New York.”
“You must have been good to even get a job there, then,” Zoe said.
The women questioned her a little further, so that they could get a better sense of what her job had entailed. When Vanessa finished explaining her role as a financial planner, Meredith and Meadow exchanged a private look.
“Am I missing something?” Vanessa asked with a frown. Maybe they weren’t so nice after all.
“No, no, it’s nothing bad,” Meredith said quickly.
Meadow explained, “We were just talking yesterday about how we needed to speak with someone who could help us manage our money.”
Vanessa’s interest was piqued. “What do you mean?”
They waited patiently for the waitress to set down their second round before they got into it. Vanessa, feeling festive, had ordered a Mai Tai, garnished with a cheerful paper umbrella and a fat wedge of pineapple. She was already feeling the effects of the champagne cocktail, so she imagined she would feel downright giddy once she finished this one, which had come served in a glass the size of a fish bowl.
They liked things “meaty” in Montana: meaty trucks, meaty drinks, meaty men . . . Vanessa thought back to when she’d seen Cash shirtless inside the barn and something inside her stirred. She took a sip of her drink to cool herself. You fancy him a little, the voice spoke up inside her head, and Vanessa promptly silenced it. She focused hard on what Meadow was saying.
“Okay, so before I became a ‘big’ author—” big spouted self-deprecatingly, like she didn’t take her fame too seriously “—I was poor. And I’m not saying cutesy starving artist kind of poor, I mean poor. Rice with beans if I’m lucky, kind of poor. Can’t afford a gallon of gas to drive anywhere in my beater car kind of poor. Sleeping on an air mattress kind of poor. You get the picture. Anyway, between my advance for the series, plus all the royalties I’ve started to earn on the first book that’s come out, I’ve suddenly got all this money. It’s been a long time since I’ve had disposable income, and I’m wondering how to best put it to use. I’m not saying that I’m worried that I’ll squander it or anything, but I feel like it’s gathering dust just sitting in my bank account. Is this the sort of thing that you do?”
Vanessa couldn’t help but grin. “That’s exactly what I do.”
“Would you be interested in working for me?”
“Yes! Absolutely!
“How soon could you start?”
“We can meet up tomorrow morning, if you like, to go over your goals. I could put something together for you by the end of the week.” Meadow and Vanessa exchanged numbers and then made a plan to meet at eight for breakfast at Violet’s restaurant. Meredith and Vanessa also made a plan to meet up in a couple days to discuss her financial goals.
“My concerns are a little different,” explained Meredith. “The shop is a family business—I took over for my mother after she took over for her father—and it was around long before the tourists started coming here. Anyway, I used to do simple arrangements for the major holidays—birthdays, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, that sort of thing—as well as bouquets for weddings and funerals. With all this new tourism, though, I’ve really had to step up my game. I’m making a lot more than I used to, but I’m also spending more. I know there must be a better way for me to do things and yield a bigger profit. I just don’t know where or how to get started.”
“Well, I can definitely help with that,” smiled Vanessa.
“I’ll probably contact you later for your services, too, once I catch up at the restaurant,” Violet chimed in.
“I’m not rich enough to need a financial planner,” joked Zoe and everyone went aww.
“But we still love you anyway, don’t we girls?” asked Meadow and all the women agreed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Did you have a good time?” Cash asked Vanessa after she’d buckled herself down into his truck. He’d already guessed that she had, since she was smiling from ear-to-ear.
“No,” she said, shaking her head loosely. “I had a great time! I love my new friends.”
She was, Cash realized, a little tipsy. Not drunk, just . . . giddy. Well, good for her, he thought. Going out with the girls and letting loose had obviously done her some good. She was happier than he’d seen her since her return to Dunblair Ridge.
“Thanks for picking me up.”
“Anytime.”
They drove a couple miles out of town in silence, the low creaks and groans of his father’s old truck serving as a soundtrack to their ride. Most of the houses they passed were dark, and they were the only car on the road. Cash usually found being out at this hour lonely if not a little eerie—it was times like these when he entertained silly notions about being the last living human on earth—but tonight he felt at peace in Vanessa’s company. He wondered if he’d feel similarly if they were returning from a date instead of him merely giving her a ride home from the bar—he wondered if he could ask her out on a date without it seeming forward.
Out of nowhere, she boldly demanded, “Why are you single, Cash?”
Cash glanced over at his passenger, who was staring at him expectantly. She had an elbow propped up on the door rest lazily and a hand under her chin. She grinned at him and raised her eyebrows, as if to say, Go on.
She was so very lovely.
Cash shrugged. “I know it sounds like a lame excuse, but I guess I just haven’t found the right one. I’ve waited this long, so I’m not going to settle out of loneliness.”
“Are you?”
“What?”
“Lonely.”
“Sure, sometimes,” he said with another shrug. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Sometimes.”
Cash could feel her taking him in, so he asked, “Why are you single?”
He immediately regretted it. The look on her face told him that he’d struck a painful nerve.
Still, she answered. Bluntly. “My ex impregnated a girl who worked at our local coffee house while he and I were still living together.”
“You’re joking.”
She shook her head, scowling. Evidently, she wasn’t. “Oh, there’s more. He gave her an engagement ring as well—also while we were living together. He was supposed to be marrying me, but I guess he’d changed his mind.”
Cash’s mouth fell open. “How did you find out—if you don’t mind my asking?”
She waved a hand, as if to say that she wasn’t bothered. “I walked in on the two of them having a bath. On the same day that I was fired. I was a financial planner before I came out here, a damn good one.”
Cash wanted to ask more about her career, but it was clear that she wasn’t finished talking.
“Her stomach was out to here,” she said, cupping her hands together out in front of her belly. “He then asked me to move out immediately—though he wasn’t really asking, since he started packing my things. He even had some boxes ready in the back of the closet, so it was something he’d been planning for a while. It was his place.”
“Oh, man, what a . . .” Cash stopped himself before he launched into a string of insults about her ex. “I’m sorry that you had to go through all of that.”
“I’ll live,” Vanessa said dryly.
“When did this happen?”
“Right before I came out here.”
Geez! No wonder she’d broken down in his barn. The poor girl had been through the wringer. “If it’s any consolation, you seem to be doing okay now.”
“Thanks,” she said in a tone that suggested that she might not fully believe it herself.
He chose his next words carefully. “And if you don’t mind my saying so, this Greg sounds like a sorry excuse for a man.” And that was the least offensive way he could think to put it.
“He is,” Vanessa said and then she stared quietly out the window.
Though Cash regretted bringing up Vanessa’s romantic standing—the mood inside the truck had been soured sufficiently enough that he dared not attempt to make further conversation—he was thrilled to learn that she was single. He couldn’t help wondering about her ex, exactly how big a fool he was for disregarding such an amazing woman. He hadn’t spent much time with her since she’d been back, but from what he’d seen so far, she was strong, smart, and determined. A total catch.
Maybe Greg’s loss could be his gain.
Vanessa declined Cash’s offer to walk her to the door as they pulled up at her house. Being a gentleman, he insisted. And he was glad that he had, too. She nearly stumbled right off the porch once they began mounting the stairs. Had he not been there to catch her, she probably would’ve taken a header into the bushes.
She felt good there, in his arms. The heat of her skin warmed his own against the chilly night air. He could stay that way forever. “Careful,” he told her as much as he told himself. If he didn’t watch it, he would be the one falling head over heels.
“Good thing you’re here,” she said with a titter as he released her. “You just keep on racking up favors that I owe you, don’t you?”
“Nah, I’m not keeping track.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder after she unlocked the front door. “Want to come inside?” She hadn’t exactly said that something would happen romantically if he said yes, but the suggestion was clear.
It was, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to make assumptions.
He also didn’t want to take advantage of Vanessa while she wasn’t of sound mind or because she was hurting over a breakup. Twenty-some years was a long time to wait, but a little longer wouldn’t kill him. “Thanks, but I’d better head back to the ranch. We’ve got a big day of DIY tomorrow.”
Though she looked disappointed, she said, “Probably for the best. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow with an author to discuss finances. My brain could use the rest.”
Was she just saying this to only save face? Cash could only speculate. After Vanessa was safely inside, he got back into his truck and drove home, reminding himself that this wouldn’t be the only opportunity for romance with his new neighbor. At least he hoped not.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cash was surprised to find Vanessa bright-eyed and eager to work when he arrived at ten o’clock sharp the next morning.
He was carrying two take-out coffees and he handed her one as he came in off the porch. “I thought you might need this. I got it for you on the way back from town, so it’s still nice and hot,” he said. “I don’t usually drink this sort of stuff—I’m more of a black coffee kind of guy—but it’s pretty good. It’s a mocha. Hope you like chocolate.”
She gave him a look like Who doesn’t like chocolate? and took a grateful sip. “Thank you for the coffee. Was I so bad last night that you’d think I’d need an extra boost of caffeine this morning?” She threw a hand over her forehead in a gesture that was obviously meant to look ridiculously dramatic. “I didn’t try anything untoward, did I?”
He wondered if that was her inadvertent way of addressing her offer to come inside. Now, in the bright light of the new day, he was starting to doubt that she’d even had romance on her mind when she’d made it—if it hadn’t just been wishful thinking on his part. He also didn’t want to embarrass her by bringing up her close call with the bushes, so he deflected. “Who doesn’t need an extra caffeine boost in the morning? Especially before DIY.”
“Hah. Good point.”
“And you were a perfect angel.”
“Such a gentleman, aren’t you?” she teased, though she was blushing. “And thank you, again, for the ride home.”
“Anytime. Ready to get to work?”
She tapped her cup of coffee against his. “I am now.”
Cash went out to his truck and carried in an armful of Home Depot bags. He’d also brought a couple more steaks, which Vanessa promptly put away in the freezer. “I almost forgot to ask—how’d your meeting go with the author?”
“It went really great,” she beamed. “We met at Violet’s restaurant.”
“What did you have?”
“Some kind of Asian fusion eggs benedict with smelt roe eggs on top. I never would have thought to pair those things together, but it was absolutely marvelous.” She licked her lips at the memory.
“Everything Violet makes is marvelous,” Cash said.
“It feels really good to be back at work.”
“So it was a work meeting?” This lifted Cash’s spirits, Vanessa setting down roots in town—showed how enthusiastic she was about starting a fresh life in Dunblair Ridge. “Are you thinking of opening a business here?”
“Guess I didn’t really get into it last night, did I?” she said. “I wouldn’t say that I’m opening a business. It’s more like I’m going to help a couple of Violet’s friends—who I suppose are now my friends— with some financial planning.”
“Oh, well that’s still great.”
Vanessa nodded happily. “It is. Meadow—that’s the author I met with this morning—is super nice. She’s got that whole California chill vibe going. She’s recently come into some money from her books, but you can tell that it hasn’t changed her one bit. She’s worked hard for it, so I’m happy to help her make even more.”
Vanessa pulled a rubber band from her back pocket and smoothed her golden hair back into a loose ponytail that sat high on her head. She was wearing a smidge of makeup, but Cash imagined it was left over from her meeting and not a result of her getting dolled up to do renovations. Thankfully, she hadn’t put on her aunt’s work overalls and had donned a basic pair of jeans, tennis shoes, and a plain t-shirt.
She was, in a word, stunning.
“It’s good that you’re already making some female friends here. You might get bored over the years if you only have me to hang out with,” he said with a wink.
“Over the years . . . No.” Vanessa’s smiled faltered.
“No?”
She sighed. “My plan was to tell you this morning before we started doing DIY.”
“Tell me what?”
“I’m not sticking around here permanently.”
Cash’s heart sank. “You’re not?”
“I’m going back to New York once I find another job.”
“But I thought you’ve found work here?”
“A couple of clients who also happen to be my new friends does not a ‘job’ make, Cash.”
“But what about your house?” he asked desperately, as if pointing out the things she had in town would get her to change her mind, which she’d apparently already made up.
“I’m going to sell it, which is why I wanted to disclose everything to you before we got to work. I didn’t . . .”
“You didn’t what?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a flap of the hand. “I guess I didn’t want you to think that I’d conned you into doing work so that I could turn a profit. None of this has anything to do with profits.”
“So, then what does it have to do with? You’ve only just gotten back.” And he wasn’t ready to lose her again.
“I wouldn’t say that I’m back. More like here temporarily.”
Cash wasn’t going to be deterred. “What’s the hurry? You hate it here that much?”
“No! It’s nothing like that—I really like Dunblair, actually. At least from what I’ve seen so far. Everyone I’ve met—present company included—has been really sweet.”
“Okay, so I’m failing to see what the problem is!” Cash said with a little chuckle. He was trying his hardest to sound lighthearted despite the urgency he felt. “I know I’ve already pointed this out, but I’ll say it again: You’ve got a house here, you’ve found some work, you’ve made a nice group of friends. And you’ve got the best neighbor on the entire planet.” He paused to wink at her and then folded his arms across his chest. “If you ask me, you’ve got it made.”
She raised her shoulde
rs in a gesture that was nearly apologetic and Cash recalled how she’d shrugged like that way back when she was a kid, usually when she was uncomfortable. He’d forgotten this quirk of hers until now. Memories like this had been coming back to him in out-of-the-blue fragments since he’d unlocked his mind to the summer they’d spent together. Each time it felt surreal, like embarking on a time-traveling journey without moving an inch.
She said, “There’s no problem—my life is back in New York, is all. That’s where most of the big finance jobs are in this country, and I kind of need money so that I can feed myself and, you know, not die of starvation.”
Another thing she used to do: sound jokey when she was telling you something you probably didn’t want to hear.
“And I have friends there, too, and all of my connections . . .”
Cash wondered: Who is she trying to convince, me or herself?
“Anyway, now that you know my plans to sell the house, I’ll totally understand if you want to bow out on helping me.” She looked like she meant it, too, though he could tell that she prefer he not.
“Of course I’ll still help.” He did not add: But I’m not going to do a rush job, yet he thought it. Because a finished house translated into Vanessa having no reason to stick around.
“You will?”
It was difficult, but he managed a smile. “Yes. I’m a man of my word.”
Vanessa enveloped him in a bear hug. “Thank you so much, Cash.” The top of her ponytail tickled the underside of his chin, her hair smelling wonderfully feminine. She said into his neck, “It may not seem like a big deal to you, but you being here means the world to me. I just want you to know that.” She sounded as if she was choking up.
They stayed in each other’s arms a little longer than necessary.
Cash forced himself to break away. “Right, let’s get to work.” He scooped up one of the Home Depot bags and gestured toward the wall behind her. “I figured you might want to get rid of that old flower wallpaper.”
“You got that right. I loved Aunt Jeanie, but I can’t say that I understand her taste.”
