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Don’t panic. You can work this out, Sarah.
“Vaguely. But none of us are in high school anymore.”
Will crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, she still is. Teaches there every day. Probably keeps the memories alive.” His lips were a tight line as he studied her face.
The hole he’d punched in her hope made it difficult to stand straight and tall. Flash him a smile, grab the dog and live to fight another day. “I’ll be excited and grateful to show you around the shelter. Thank you so much for your valuable time.”
She didn’t think her fear or discomfort could be heard in her voice, but her gritted teeth didn’t much resemble a smile. Still, she calmly, slowly led Bub out of the office, working the dress, the heels and her best features until she stepped back out on the sidewalk. As soon as she passed his window, she collapsed against the brick, closed her eyes and fought back tears.
“That was harder than I thought it would be.” Bub licked her hand and she remembered why fear, frustration and her own embarrassment didn’t matter.
At this point, she was out of options. Difficult was the only way.
Until her father came back for her or she tracked him down.
She fished her phone out of her handbag. No missed call. No text. Nothing to indicate that her father was on his way.
“Time to get back to work. These shoes are beautiful but deadly.”
Bub stood, too, happy to go wherever she was going, but a woman coming down the sidewalk called Sarah’s name before they could take two steps. The dread was nearly immediate. Running into any old “friend” was bound to be another lesson in humility.
Why was it these lessons were coming so often lately?
“Hey, Cece, it’s good to see you.” Lying through her teeth was one lesson Sarah had learned a long time ago. She gave Celia Grant’s cheeks the expected air-kisses and stepped back.
“How long has it been? Three months or so?” Cece asked, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I loved this dress, too. I finally had to let it go, though. Needed the space in my closet.” She leaned forward. “You didn’t pick this up at the consignment store over on First, did you?” Then she twitched her shoulders as if she was being a naughty scamp.
So turnabout was fair play.
For years, they’d traded similar exchanges. Cece must still be annoyed about Sarah’s comments on her green Armani. But there was no room for argument. Sixty-year-old Deborah Simmons had worn it better and first.
“Ah, no, and I’m certain this dress isn’t yours.” Sarah stepped back and studied Cece’s gorgeous outfit. “I’m pretty sure we’re still different sizes. Yours would positively swim on me.” She smiled sweetly.
Although it was a direct hit, Cece didn’t give her the pleasure of wincing. “Always such a funny girl. How’s the family?”
“Oh, you know how hard it is to stay in touch sometimes, but I’m doing well.” Sarah navigated all of Cece’s land mines and then changed the subject. She’d been moving in the shark-infested waters of society for a long time. “Are you and Doug moved into your new house on the golf course yet?”
As Cece droned on and on about the challenges of building a five-bedroom custom design in a small town like Holly Heights—not to mention the lack of solid contractors—Sarah weighed her options for escape. On one hand, this couldn’t go on indefinitely. On the other, her feet were about to walk away and leave the rest of her stranded on the sidewalk.
When Cece wound down, she pointed at Bub. “What sort of dog is that?”
Bub cocked his head at her and seemed to give a disapproving expression.
“Mutt. Rescue. The best kind.” Sarah ran her hand over his head and realized that this encounter was meant to be. The Grants were wealthy enough to have spare cash lying around. They could be the ones to keep the lights on.
“Of course. Pedigrees are expensive, aren’t they, darling?”
Sarah studied Cece’s eyes. In high school, Cece had been one of the crowd that circled Sarah, always ready to take advantage of her father’s wealth. There wasn’t much friendship showing in her eyes now, if they’d ever been real friends.
“Actually, it’s wonderful to run into you. I’m planning a fund-raiser next month for the shelter and I’d love to include you on the list.” At Cece’s reluctant nod, Sarah got a jolt of energy, which made it easier to press for more. “We’re always in need of donations from caring people like you and Doug, so don’t wait for a formal invitation. Stop by and see the shelter sometime, won’t you?”
“It does seem you could use cash right now. Doug’s always got more requests than money to give, but I can persuade him to visit. I’d love to find out more about your little hobby. But there won’t be any actual animals there, right? They make such a mess.” She was shaking her head as she pulled out her wallet and removed every bit of cash she had. “Here. This should buy some dog food and...things.”
Feeling a bit like a panhandler, Sarah swallowed her pride and accepted every wrinkled bill. “Cece, you’ve made a big difference for Paws for Love. I won’t forget your generosity.” She riffled through her purse until she found a pen and an old grocery receipt, then scribbled the amount and signed it. “Here. For your records.” Then she put the cash in a ragged, empty envelope and jotted down the date, Cece’s name and the amount.
It wouldn’t be enough to keep the doors open, but this month’s dog food was now paid for. That was a relief.
Cece awkwardly pinched the wrinkled paper. “I’ll make sure to pass it along to Doug. What are you doing here? Hiring Will Barnes as your financial adviser?” Bub picked that minute to turn on the charm and batted his eyelashes at Cece like a starlet. She took a step back, but the corners of her mouth turned up.
The dog was magic.
“Adviser? I thought he was some kind of accountant.” Sarah studied the facade of Barnes Financial. She should have asked more questions about what Will did. That might have been the polite thing to do, and it would have given her a better concept of his donation potential. If he was drawing Holly Heights’s upper crust, he could write a check, too.
“According to the gossip at the club, he’s some kind of investment guru. He was part of a big firm in Dallas until he moved to town to open his own office. I keep telling Doug that we might want to find someone local to help with money management, but you know how husbands are.” Cece stopped and patted Sarah’s arm. “Oh, sorry, darling. You don’t know how husbands are.”
Good one. Cece had gotten sharper.
The near-smirk and warm glow in her eyes suggested she knew it, too.
“Maybe you should try the patented moves on Will...” Cece winked. “As I recall, no boy was immune once you turned on the charm. Of course, he’s not a boy, is he? Maybe they’re too weak for men.”
Do not mention my inability to catch a husband again or I’ll...
Bub leaned against her leg, distracting her from plotting mayhem. Woman’s best friend obviously.
Cece was right. Beanpole Barnes had blushed three colors of red if she so much as glanced at him. Will had met her head-on and cut right through her tried-and-true moves. If things were different, that would have doubled her determination. But now she wasn’t sure she could conquer him even with her old wardrobe and her father’s money.
A small part of her understood that the challenge made Will a prize worth winning.
“If you’ve got the time...” Cece held out her hand. “Come to lunch. My treat.”
Sarah wanted to. The chance to sit down at a nice restaurant, eat a meal prepared by someone who knew how to cook and not worry over how she’d cover the bill was seductive. But she had Bub. And these shoes were a torture each second she stood there. “I can’t. I’ve got so much work to do at the shelter, but I meant what I said about stopping by. I’d love to catch up.”
Cece wrapped her arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “I will. I wish there was more I could do to help with your situation.”
Sarah tapped her purse. “You’ve already helped so much. Watch for your invitation in the mail.”
“I’ll warn Doug to start saving his discretionary funds, darling.” Cece blew her an air-kiss and walked away.
“Good news. We’re going to have water for a few more days.” Sarah scratched Bub’s neck, dodged his tongue and enjoyed the brief instant of relief. “Let’s go home.”
He woofed in response and followed her to her car, a sporty black convertible that had been perfect for the heiress to a car fortune. Now it was too small to do what she needed and too paid for to get rid of. Her single suitcase would fit neatly in the backseat when the time came.
“Load up.”
Bub jumped into the passenger seat and Sarah fastened his seat belt in his harness. Shelly had almost had a fit when she’d loaded Bub into her car that morning and nearly forgot the harness. Animal safety was a Big Deal for Shelly. And now that she knew better, Sarah could understand the commitment.
Still, if he was riding shotgun often, Bub was definitely going to need a cool pair of sunglasses.
He could be the shelter’s celebrity spokesdog, cruising around town in a convertible and shades.
Temporarily. Until he was adopted. Until her father came back to Holly Heights. Or she made her escape.
Sarah slid into the driver’s seat with a grateful sigh and thought about taking the shoes off to drive barefoot. Then she imagined the picture she’d present to the policeman who pulled her over. Convertible hair would not be conducive to flirting her way out of a ticket.
The drive to Paws for Love was quick, but when she reached the sign pointing the way to the interstate, she paused and considered her options. It would be so easy to hit the road, but she had no idea where to go. So, it was better to stay in uncomfortable but safe Holly Heights. Her foot eased off the brake, and before she’d managed to leave behind all the bad energy from her run-ins with Will Barnes and Celia Grant, she was carefully negotiating the gravel parking lot in high heels behind a determined Bub.
“Hey, boss, I’m so glad you’re back.” Shelly met her at the door and danced back and forth, agitation clear on her face. “I left some messages on your desk. I’m afraid they’re bill collectors.” She whispered the last two words as if it was a big secret that the place was broke.
She wiped her eyes and Sarah wondered if she’d been crying again. “Fine, Shelly. But I’ve told you not to call me boss, haven’t I? We’re coworkers.” Sarah didn’t pay Shelly, although she certainly deserved more than Sarah’s cheap yet undying gratitude.
Unfortunately, that’s all she had to give.
“Oh, right.” Shelly smoothed her shirt down nervously. “Got time to help with the dogs?” She cleared her throat and tacked on, “Sarah.”
What she wanted to do was say no. Shelly could handle the noise and mess of overly excited dogs while Sarah stretched out on the couch and dreamed of dinner in Austin.
But she’d watched Shelly struggle that morning.
This was something she could do.
“Sure, I know you need to get home on time tonight.” She offered Shelly the leash. “Could you let Bub out for me?”
“Oh, I’m in no hurry. Nothing there for me but sitcoms and leftovers.” Shelly buzzed around her with fluttery hands to take Bub’s leash. When she and Bub walked away, Sarah ran her hand through her hair. Helping Shelly recover from a divorce was not one of her skills.
Right now she had her hands full helping dogs and cats. She’d add encouraging lonely people after she conquered that. Though she was learning more and more about being lonely and discouraged every day.
Sarah jammed her shoulder against the door to the shelter’s office and winced when the warped wood squeaked. “Something else to add to the list of things that need attention.”
First, the shoes. They had to go.
“Don’t knock over the piles.” Sarah scooted between the files on the floor and on the desk to drop down onto the ragged office chair held together with tape and goodwill. Her gusty sigh as the shoes came off could probably be heard miles away.
But the minute she caught her breath, all she could think of was Will’s face and Cece’s cash. “What a morning.” She dug around in the suitcase behind the desk and dragged out her favorite jeans.
At one point they’d been pretty stylish. Now they were comfortable.
Once everything she was wearing was washable, she scooted back around the piles, rolled her shoulders to ease some of the tension and jumped into Shelly’s whirlwind. Two hours later they had all the dogs walked, every animal had been fed and Shelly was on her way home to fall apart in private. Bub was snoring loudly from the couch when she sat down and pulled out the cash Cece had handed her. “Electricity or groceries. Which should it be?”
The image of her father sitting on a sunny beach somewhere, a cold drink in his hand, floated through her brain. The haze of jealous bitterness followed before she could stop it.
As soon as possible, she’d head off for a restorative spa day and then book a flight to St. Barts.
But what sort of life would she have living on stolen money?
Her old, normal life was a dream.
Reality was being covered in dog hair and worse while trying to decide whether she wanted to eat or see.
People like Will Barnes sneered at her.
And her friends had disappeared like the money.
“Bub, you’ll never leave, will you?” She ran her hand over his side and ignored his annoyed kick.
“Two choices, Sarah. You can either sit here and have a pity party. Or see if you can come up with the stuff Will wants and prove him wrong.” Pity party was an attractive option, but she’d spent a lot of time at that particular one-woman show lately.
Sarah brushed the hair off her pants and maneuvered back to the desk.
She was fully capable of starting even if she couldn’t do it all on her own.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_b92b15a2-b379-5e25-811a-b4ac48e44cb1)
WILL PULLED UP in front of the dilapidated building and parked in the gravel lot. A worn sign said Paws for Love out front. “This is not quite as...fancy as I expected Sarah would demand.”
His passenger had absolutely nothing to say.
He should be getting used to that. Chloe’s bored expression made him think of his stepsister. Which was crazy, as they didn’t share a single drop of blood.
“It’s an animal shelter,” Chloe drawled. “No doubt it’ll be educational.”
Sarcasm. She and Jen spoke the same language, too. When he slanted a watch-your-tone look at his daughter, she held both hands up. “It’s Saturday. We could be doing something fun.”
Will couldn’t argue with that.
He studied the building through the windshield. The place was tired, needed to be landscaped and given a new paint job at the least. Even to his amateur eye, the roof was sorely in need of replacement.
Instead of exaggerating the shelter’s needs, Sarah might have been downplaying them. Could he walk away and get the petty revenge he wanted when it was clear this place and the animals it saved needed real help?
Could he play with the puppies and not pull out a checkbook?
“All right. Fifteen minutes, twenty tops. Then we’ll do something fun. You can pick.” Will opened his door and slid out. Chloe hopped out, as if this might have been the promise she’d been waiting for.
“Good. The lake. We’re going. We’ll swim.” She pointed a finger. “No phone calls.”
“We could rent a boat. Pick up lunch.” He saluted her to acknowledge the excellent plan. “You should be in charge every day.”
She held up her hand for a high five, something she’d picked up on the soccer field. He smacked her hand, grabbed it and pulled her close for a squirmy hug.
“Twenty minutes...and go.” Squaring his shoulders, Will walked over to the door, held it open and stepped inside right behind Chloe. “Hello? Anybody here?” The place was unexpected on the inside, too. Clean, if ragged, with a nice pine scent.
Bub ambled around the corner first, followed by Sarah. “Sorry, we were out back cleaning up the yard now that the animals are inside.”
The surprises kept coming. Instead of ridiculously expensive clothes and seriously hot shoes, she was wearing denim and cotton and the kind of black boots he imagined farmers wore to milk the cows. Even in weekend casual jeans and a polo, he was overdressed for this tour.
Sarah fidgeted with her ponytail, waiting for him to say something, but he was stumped. Then he realized she was wearing no makeup, no lipstick, no nothing. The only hint of the seductress was in the red nails that tapped on the scratched linoleum counter.
“Introduce me to the rest of the committee?” Sarah pointed to Chloe, who’d stopped as close to the door as she could.
