WAKING UP AT the same time she used to fall into bed had been a shock, but Sarah might be getting the hang of it. Instead of dealing with wolf whistles and offers to buy her a drink, she worked to clean up the pens, but grateful, goofy dogs were their own reward.
Coffee would be better.
Especially since this meeting with Will Barnes was going to require all her focus. “I’ll help you with the meds as soon as I get back, okay?”
“No worries, boss,” Shelly said. “You’ve already done so much. And now you look like a corporate raider. There’s no way you can fail in heels like that.”
Sarah checked her black heels, one of the three pairs she’d refused to sell on consignment. They made her legs lethal. And the dark suit had stayed in her closet on the understanding that there would be occasions when she’d need to impress rich men with her business aptitude.
She’d never seriously planned to get the aptitude.
That might have been a better place to start.
“We’ll work with what we’ve got.” Sarah stacked her neat pile of file folders with the few estimates she’d gathered and her ragged notepad. No matter how many times she rewrote her figures, consciously doing her best to use her best penmanship, she still had a difficult time reading her own writing. “You don’t happen to have a laptop, do you, Shelly?”
A nice spreadsheet would have been the perfect accessory.
“No, sorry,” Shelly said. “Martin took his when he moved out.”
“That’s fine. Maybe...” She wanted to say she’d buy one. That was the Hillman thing to do. Go out. Swipe the card. Simple.
But the cards were overloaded and overdue.
“There’s always the library,” Shelly said helpfully. “We could take your notes in, work something up. I know they’ve got people who will help. We could go before we let the dogs out this afternoon.”
Tempted to hand everything to Shelly, Sarah studied her coworker’s hopeful face.
Shelly was excited about a field trip to the library to work on the computer.
With Sarah.
Why was that flattering?
She’d been surrounded by people who were excited to be with her...in the VIP section of the hottest club or enjoying Sunday brunch where a Hillman credit card covered the tab.
Shelly needed to get out more.
For that matter, so did Sarah. These shoes pinched her toes like the worst torture device and they were at least two inches shorter than her dancing shoes.
“Shelly, you’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Sarah studied the scribbled writing on her pad to avoid eye contact. “But this is a job I should do myself.”
Shelly’s grin faded, but before she could smooth things over, Sarah added, “Instead, I think this afternoon we should...” What did women bond over other than shopping and lunch?
“Talk. We should definitely talk.” Sarah nodded confidently and watched Shelly process her weirdness. “Meanwhile, keep your fingers crossed.” She straightened her shoulders. “Bub, keep an eye on the place.”
He woofed and then meandered into her office to jump onto the couch.
“Les is coming in this morning. Anything you need me to pass along?” Shelly tugged the bottom of her shirt and then fussed with the gray hair at her temples. “He wants my opinion on paint colors. He’s repainting his house.”
Les, the retired vet who went above and beyond for Paws for Love... Was Shelly into him? The mention of his name certainly brought color to Shelly’s cheeks.
If so, Sarah knew exactly what they’d be talking about. Finding something in common, other than dogs and cats, would be a struggle, but men were always a solid topic.
And encouraging a budding romance? Fun, fun, fun.
How to throw them together?
“Ask Les if he’ll examine Socks, make sure his eye is healing as it should, and take out Scamp’s stitches. Please do what you can to help.” Sarah tried to add to the list of reasons Les and Shelly needed to spend more time together, doing a mental walk-through of the shelter.
Shelly straightened her shoulders. “We’ll take care of it. Les said I’m the best assistant he’s ever worked with.”
I’ll just bet he did.
Sarah nodded. “He’s so good to the animals. And tell him I’ll have a check for him...soon.” That was the best she could promise.
“Not to worry, boss. Les is happy to help.” Shelly smiled slowly. “He’s one of the good ones.”
“He is. You two make a great team. With the animals.” Sarah crossed her fingers and waved both hands. “Think positive things.”
On her way to Will’s office, Sarah was impressed again with how pretty the morning could be. All those years of sleeping until ten had meant missing cool dawn air with birds singing and the fresh appeal of a brand-new day.
Dancing until last call was nice, too, but the next day was always less fun.
It was hard to say which was better, but with enough breathing room to keep the shelter’s doors open, she wasn’t sure she’d go back to the way things were.
Not that her friends would still welcome her to the VIP section, anyway.
“Fake it till you make it, Sarah,” she murmured under her breath as she parked. One quick swipe of lipstick and a few nervous adjustments of her hair and she was sliding out of the car, her hands clenching the files so tightly that her fingers ached.
Pushing back her shoulders made a confident strut easier. Yanking on the door to find it locked almost turned that strut into slapstick. She bobbled her files and cursed under her breath.
“You’re early. I didn’t expect that.” Will and Chloe were standing behind her. “We got a late start. Someone had to stay up until she’d finished storming the castle.”
Uncertain how to answer, Sarah held her paperwork like a shield, but Chloe muttered, “Saving the princess is important work, Dad.” She glanced at Sarah. “Round Table Realm. It’s a game. There are swords. He’s not very good at it.”
“I would be worse,” Sarah said. Video games had never been her thing. “Are you a knight?”
“Better. A magician.” Chloe shrugged. “If I had a tablet, I could be a wizard by now.”
“And if I tell your mother how much time you spent playing that game over the weekend, you could be grounded from the game. Forever,” Will said.
Chloe slid into the chair behind the receptionist’s desk and immediately started clicking. Before Will could say a thing, she held up a hand. “Facebook. Email. Just the usual.”
Instead of arguing, Will turned to Sarah. “Do you make coffee? I know, I’m the worst. But if you could, you would be a lifesaver.”
Determined to ignore her sudden awareness of Will Barnes, his deep voice, broad shoulders and entirely too intelligent daughter, Sarah nodded. Finding the kitchenette with the industrial coffeemaker wasn’t difficult. Getting the coffee going took two false starts but eventually what dripped out could be called coffee.
“How’s the arm?” Pausing in front of the receptionist’s desk seemed the polite thing to do. Apparently, it was her day to start awkward conversations with people for her own good.
Chloe frowned up at her, the question clear on her face.
“The scratch. Everything okay?”
Chloe immediately glanced down at the pink stripes on her arm. “Oh, yeah, it’s fine.”
“You seemed a little shaken when you left.” Why was she even bringing this up? Will had let it go. She should definitely watch it float away in the breeze instead of catching it with both hands.
“Yeah, I mean...” Chloe studied the computer screen. “She surprised me. I was half a second from telling my dad we were taking Jelly home. Then she attacked.”
Sarah sipped her cup of coffee and thought about that. Will had threatened her with his idea of a terrible punishment if she planted the adoption idea.
He really should have thought that through.
“Attack seems a little strong. Jelly was afraid. She hurt you, but she was only doing her best to protect herself.” She knew very well what that was like. High school had been one big experiment in the best way to keep people from hurting her. An occasional swipe now and then was a good defense.
“Maybe. Or I just don’t know how to handle a cat.” Chloe shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t hurt her, did I?”
Ah, so it was more than the scratch.
Sarah snorted. “Come on. Jelly? To handle Jelly, sit still. That’s it. She’ll be wrapped around your neck like a scarf five minutes later.”
Chloe glanced at her. “She’s pretty sweet. Claws excepted.”
“I saw her this morning, staring down the hall. She’s a people cat.”
Chloe tilted her head.
“You know, like a people person. She wants to be around people. Give her another shot.”
Will’s swift finger-across-the-neck motion caught Sarah’s attention and ended her conversation.
If Jelly and Chloe were meant to be, she’d done the best she could.
Les and Shelly. Chloe and Jelly. Maybe Sarah was meant to be a matchmaker.
When she set the mug in front of Will, his glare was loud and clear.
“You wouldn’t want her to be scared of dogs and cats for the rest of her life,” Sarah said as she eased into the chair across from him.
“No.” Will sipped his coffee. “I don’t want that. I also don’t want a cat.”
Sarah held up both hands. “Then we’re on the same page.” For now.
“I’m behind schedule. Show me what you’ve got.”
Go time. You can do this. You’ve been over and over the figures. He wants to help because he’s a good guy. Don’t panic. Charm. You’ve got this.
When Will slid the stack of her work across the desk instead of waiting for her to answer, Sarah understood that trying seduction at this point would be the easiest, fastest way to destroy all her chances. So, like it or not, she was going to have to take her chances with her brain.
“I had already gotten a few quotes. The roof, repairing the fences. With those big-ticket items addressed, my focus would change. We’d bring all the utilities up to date, pay our standing accounts and have a fresh start. That’s part one of the plan.”
Chin resting on his hand, Will squinted at the itemized list she’d made.
“And the bottom line for those necessities is...” He flipped to the next page. “Your handwriting is some of the worst I’ve ever seen. And I specialize in helping medical professionals with their finances.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” Sarah tried to imagine what might excuse terrible handwriting, something that would earn some sympathy, but nothing came to mind.
“Thirty thousand dollars. That seems...conservative.” Will stretched back in his chair. “Does that even cover the new roof? That place needs at least twice that much in physical improvements.”
“Right. I think so, too.” Sarah had gone back and forth over her figures all weekend. Asking for more would mean she could afford a broader scope of improvements, but keeping it to the bare minimum strengthened her chances of getting an agreement.
If she whipped out a secondary plan at the meeting, one that would get the shelter back up to full speed at a somewhat higher price tag... Well, maybe Rebecca, Stephanie and Jen would think she was an expert planner.
And once she got them inside the shelter, the warm fuzzies would make it easier to write a bigger check.
Will slid the notepad back to her, folded his hands over his stomach and stared up at the ceiling.
After a quick check to make sure he wasn’t looking at something horrifying, like a hairy spider, Sarah tried to settle comfortably in her chair to wait.
“Why not get your dad or one of his cronies to write a check?” Will’s chin dipped down. “Wouldn’t that be painless?”
Sarah studied his face. There was no way he hadn’t heard about her father’s escape, not in a town this size. Even if his stepsister hadn’t passed the juicy, satisfying gossip along, surely someone else had.
But why pretend otherwise? A test to determine what her answer might be?
Their eyes locked while she tried to figure out how to pass it. Then she got angry.
Sarah stood to pace in front of his desk, but after one lap, she had to kick off her heels. Apparently, spending a few months out of the shoes had ruined her ability to enjoy them.
But pacing barefoot, even on his carpeted floor, lacked some of the punctuation she wanted.
“He’s gone, accused of embezzlement. That’s why the shelter’s donors bailed. Believe me, if I could do this without asking for help from the people of this town—who seem almost gleeful at my current situation—I would.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “If I could leave it all behind, I might. But someday soon, he’s coming back with an explanation. Life will be normal again.” Those shoes that pinched her toes would fit like a dream, she’d be able to talk her way out of tight spots and Paws for Love would be out of trouble. Normal.
“But you’ve got friends, don’t you? What about your mother?”
Sarah rubbed at the ache in her chest. It wasn’t Will’s fault that he couldn’t remember her mother had died while she was in high school. She’d been the furthest thing from a friend to him at that point.
“She’s been gone for years. Without Dad, I’m on my own.” Telling this guy, who had a good reason to hate her, that she had no friends to count on was humiliating. “I took a position as the director of the shelter—” she crossed her arms to prevent herself from using air quotes around the word director “—because I was bored. Now I can’t walk away.” She dropped back into the chair. “Think this is karma coming around?”
Sarah grimaced. More than anything she wanted to rest her head on his desk and cry out the tension and fear that made it hard to sleep at night.
But she needed his cooperation.
Will Barnes was not the kind of guy who’d let emotions influence his decisions.
He didn’t answer her right away.
Oh, don’t be silly. Everyone does things they regret when they’re kids. Everything is going to work out.
Wouldn’t it be nice if that’s what he said? But no.
“What you’ve got here is a good start. From this point, you need to collect more bids, demonstrate financial due diligence.” He shook his head. “And I’ll set up a meeting with Rebecca.”
Sarah clasped her hands under her chin, the wave of relief almost overwhelming. She’d managed to avoid tears so far, but her defenses were failing. Fast.
“But your presentation will need some work. Fire up your computer. They’re going to have to be able to read the proposal.” He wagged a finger at her. “And whatever you’re thinking about what happens next, make sure it goes in the request. Try honesty.”
The corner of his mouth turned up.
Sarah thought about pretending shock. She could brace one hand on her chest and blink wide eyes at him in protest. Honestly, she was surprised he’d anticipated her bait-and-switch idea.
“Okay. All the cards on the table, one gamble for the whole high-dollar total. I can do that.” She picked up her files and notepad while she slipped her shoes back on, somehow reluctant to leave now that she’d gotten what she’d come for.
“Chloe seems a little young to be manning the receptionist’s desk.” She shifted from one foot to the other while she evaluated the best way to make a breezy exit.
“The last one quit unexpectedly,” he said.
That might explain why the door had been locked and the coffee unmade.
“Maybe Jen can help you find a replacement.” The alarms blaring at her to shut her mouth, avoid bringing up Will’s sister, who’d been one of her favorite targets, always hit a second too late.
“Yeah.” His lips tightened. “She might have her own ax to grind with me, too.” He slid down in his chair. “But that won’t impact her decision on the shelter. You’ll be wading through your own trouble there.”
She pursed her lips. “That’s not all that comforting.”
“Right. That’s my point.”
Neither of them smiled but some of the tension evaporated and Sarah was reminded of the connection she’d felt to Will while they sat on the couch in her cramped office.
“Okay. I’m going to go hunt up a computer.”
He hesitated and then nodded. “And I’m going to try to find a temp to answer the phone. I’ll let you know when to be ready. Think you can do this?”
Sarah straightened her shoulders. “I’ve done harder things in the past few months. This will be fun.”
There. That’s the parting line I needed.
She added a jaunty wave. “Thanks for all your help.”
Will didn’t wave back. Which was good. It was a strange thing to do in the first place. Her arm felt out of whack when she dropped it, but she spun on one heel and marched right into his lobby.
With Chloe wrapped up in some game on the computer, headphones covering her ears while she jerked and twisted along with the knight on the screen, there was no audience for her clumsy victory dance, which was filled with more pure happiness than rhythm. It was absolutely nothing like the dancing she’d done in clubs with strangers or her so-called friends. This was not seduction. It was celebration.
She braced a hand against the desk to catch her breath.
And had an idea.