Blake disconnected the call with Adam. Just as he had expected—Adam couldn’t come to Fort Collins any earlier. His high-profile case with LaKendrick Smith had him snowed under. Adam made it clear, there was “no way in hell” he could get to Grandma’s sooner.
He reached out to Ty and Jack; they said keeping an eye on grandma won’t be a problem. Between the two of them, they’d have it covered.
“How’s it going, Blake? Did you call the airline?” his grandma asked as she entered the kitchen.
He let out a breath. “Yes, I’m on the two-forty tomorrow.”
She cupped her hands over his cheeks and kissed his forehead. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“Me too, Grandma. Ty and Jack will be around.”
“Yes, Jack already called me and told me he and Mya were taking me out to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Good.”
“Have you told Charlie?”
He shook his head. “No. And I’m dreading it.”
“I’ll bet.” She paused a moment. “You know, you could make this work if you wanted to,” she said then kissed his head one more time before leaving the room.
Sure, easier said than done.
Charlie had texted him earlier, said she was cooking dinner at her place. At the time he’d read the text he was smiling. Now, there would be no smile as he ruined their evening.
His arm felt like lead as he pressed the doorbell.
“Hey. You don’t have to ring. You can just come— What’s wrong?” Her smile fell, and it nearly broke his heart.
He closed the door. “Let’s sit.”
Her eyes were wide and cautious. She could read him well, or perhaps he had a lousy poker face. “I hired a new accounting firm recently. Well, they did an audit on my books.”
“What did they find?”
“Someone is embezzling from me. From the company,” he corrected.
“Oh, God.”
“Charlie,” he reached for her hands, “I have to go back early.”
“Yes, of course. When do you have to leave?”
He braced himself. “Tomorrow.”
Her body stiffened, and he heard her small gasp. “Tomorrow?” she asked softly.
His heart twisted. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I understand. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”
“I’m afraid if I don’t address it immediately, it will turn into something unmanageable and volatile.”
“Of course.” She licked her lips. “Well, let’s enjoy our last night together, shall we?”
God, how can she stay so positive? He nodded even though he felt about as big as a slug.
Blake’s news was the last thing she thought she’d be hearing that night. She knew he would be heading back to Chicago soon, but those few extra days would have been good. It would have been something. She would have had more time to get used to the idea of him leaving.
They ate mostly in silence. The filet tasted like cardboard, and the wine tasted flat.
“I’m sorry I ruined our evening,” he said breaking the silence.
She reached to cover his hand with hers. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. I was rather getting used to having you around,” she shared.
“I was getting used to it too.”
“Can you at least spend the night?”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
She gave him the first real smile she felt all night. They mostly finished their dinner and lounged in front of the TV. Before they finished a show, he took her hand and let her back to her bedroom.
He stripped them both naked and made love to her all night. She savored everything he did—all his kisses, all his touches, the way he smelled, and the way he called her name. More than once she found herself close to tears, but she fought them. Tears were wasted energy. He was just as sad. They had several wonderful days together, and tomorrow he’d be gone again.
Life must move on, she told herself.
Watching him walk away was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. Even the first time wasn’t this hard. Charlie had anger to protect her heart then.
Blake had thought she cheated, didn’t trust her, and left without looking back. He acted like an asshole, and she’d been pissed. Watching him leave led to vague relief.
This time—not so much.
They had kept the goodbyes light and pleasant, trying not to make it as if someone had died. Charlie had held back the tears until he drove away, then she walked back into her house, closed the door, and collapsed to her knees sobbing.
Blake walked into the office Wednesday morning low in energy but high in determination. The flight back to Chicago gave him time to seethe. He was pissed about having to come back early, and he was pissed about Patrick. How dare he steal from him. After everything he did for the man.
He headed straight for his office and took care of a few security things on his PC before calling Patrick in.
“Hey, Blake! You’re back.”
“I need to see you in my office.”
Patrick arrived with a worried look on his face, as he should.
“Close the door, please.” He pushed back from his desk and stood. “Have a seat.”
Blake hitched his hip on the edge of the desk and eyed Patrick.
“What’s up?”
Like you don’t know. “It’s come to my attention that someone has been embezzling from the company.” Patrick adjusted his position and shifted his eyes.
“We are a small company. The only people with full access to the money are you and me, and I know I didn’t take any money. So would you care to share something?”
Patrick stared at the floor for several moments. “Times are hard,” he muttered.
Blake’s eyebrows rose. “That’s your defense?”
Blake knew the truth. It was greed. Patrick had a girlfriend, but no kids, no mortgage, and he was well-compensated. With random drug screenings, he wasn’t addicted to drugs.
Blake asked if he had a gambling problem, and Patrick denied it. He had just taken the money with no explanation as to why. Blake was at a loss. He was left with no choice but to fire Patrick.
Blake had planned for a security guard with the office building to be on stand-by and escort Patrick out, in case things got ugly. Next item on his agenda meant hiring a replacement and mending the damage. Blake hoped it led to nothing too severe. Blake still had hopes of selling the company one day.
He shook his head and returned to his desk. Patrick had created more damage in terms of trust than he had financially.
Her days of late seemed less inspiring, less colorful. Charlie knew it was because Blake had left. A few times she drove by his grandmother’s house, for no apparent reason. She felt empty inside and merely drifted through the days looking for anything to satisfy the void.
They spoke most days on the phone and exchanged a few emails. She looked forward to his calls like an anxious teenager. Some calls were long—they’d talk about work, and she’d ask for his opinion. He told her about firing Patrick and looking for his replacement.
Some calls were short. He’d have work to do or a basketball game with his friends. But a pit started to form in Charlie’s belly. The calls were getting increasingly shorter. Either Blake was trying not to think of her, or he had someone else to help fill his time.
Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, so she forced herself not to think about it. He always had a reason to drop off, but that didn’t stop her feelings of unease.
The days were passing slowly. Blake set up interviews for a new comptroller, and called his financial advisor.
“Roger, I need to move a few thousand dollars into a checking account.” Having the money available would make it easier to pay for his grandma’s bathroom remodel.
“Yeah, you bet. I’ll take care of it. I may execute of few more trades as well.”
The man was thorough and smart. Over the years, Blake had come to trust Roger with his money, the proceeds from the sale of his first company. To Roger’s credit, he didn’t make any moves without conferring with Blake first. “Oh yeah?”
“I want to be cautious with all this discussion about China wanting to trade oil in the yuan. That will lower the value of the US dollar.”
“Right.”
“So, let me look over your portfolio and make sure everything is as it should be. I’ll call you in a day or two.”
“Great. Thanks, Roger. I appreciate it.”
Demolition of his grandmother’s bathroom started the next day. Ty and Jack would keep tabs on the progress. Blake’s mind wandered to Charlie. They’d spoken several nights in a row. He looked forward to hearing her voice on the phone. He had a hard time admitting that he missed her. His plan to call her less, so he would think about her less, wasn’t panning out the way he hoped. He scratched the side of his head.
The last two weeks or so had been grueling, to say the least. Blake hadn’t slept well since his trip. His demeanor was grouchy, he knew it, the office knew it. Damen mentioned something to him the previous night.
“Man, you have enough money. Frickin’ move to Colorado. Be with her,” he’d said.
“I have a company to run, Damen.”
“Screw it. Forget it. Sell it now, not later,” he’d offered.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Blake joked.
Damen grinned. “This is simple, Blake. Would you be happy to be with her? And would she be happy to be with you? If the answer is yes to both of those questions, then the rest is simple logistics.”
And before Blake could retort, Damen threw the basketball at his gut, forcing a gust of air from his lungs. Fire rose in his eyes, and Damen chuckled. “Bring it, big man,” he said and took a defensive stance to guard his basket.
“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be,” Blake countered, and the game continued.
That conversation replayed several times in his mind. Damen may have had a point. He needed to fix this. But moving to Colorado? Was that his solution?