No Time for Surprises (The No Brides Club Book 6)

by Karen McCullough

  NO TIME FOR SURPRISES

  NO BRIDES CLUB, BOOK 6

  KAREN MCCULLOUGH

  © 2019, Karen McCullough

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

  SWEET PROMISE PRESS

  PO BOX 72

  BRIGHTON, MI 48116

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek

  More from this Series

  More from Sweet Promise Press

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  “Y ou’re never going to believe what I just heard.”

  Julie Harrison looked from her computer monitor to the speaker, her friend and co-worker, Maureen. “What?”

  “You remember those rumors about a take-over?”

  Julie’s stomach tightened. “Don’t tell me—”

  “It’s true. And done. I hear the official announcement will be at two this afternoon.”

  She drew a deep breath. “Do you know who?”

  “I hear it’s Spieler Financials.”

  “Oh heck,” Julie muttered quietly. Her head spun, and spots began to bloom at the margins of her vision.

  “Hey?” Alarm laced Maureen’s voice. “Are you all right? You got pale.”

  Julie reached for the cup of coffee next to her notepad and took a long drink. The deep, rich, warm liquid helped steady her. “I’m okay.”

  Maureen gave her a hard stare. “What’s the problem?”

  She couldn’t tell her friend the whole truth, but part of it would suffice. “They won’t want me.”

  “You’re kidding me? Not want you? You’re the best programmer here by a mile and a half.”

  “You mean all three of us? If you include Stan? But except for the current project, the apps are done. Anyone can maintain them.”

  Maureen rolled her eyes. “And who knows better than you that in this business, if you don’t keep developing new things, you’re sliding backward? They can’t afford not to keep you. And besides, it’s not like you’re a salaried employee. They can’t fire a contractor, can they?”

  “No. They just don’t buy any more software from my company or offer any more contracts.”

  “Their loss, then. You just go offer your applications elsewhere. With your brilliance, you’ll probably have people lined up, begging you to work for them. I’m the one who’s more likely to be out of a job. Mediocre programmers who can also do some bookkeeping on the side are a dime a dozen.”

  “But you’re a very good one. And beside you know where all the skeletons are hidden.”

  Maureen huffed out a quick, sharp laugh. “Which would be a stronger argument if there were any skeletons to worry about. But, yes, I can find another job. Even if I am getting a bit long in the tooth. You can, too. I just don’t want to. I like this one. I like working with you. Take me with you if you go somewhere else.”

  “I don’t really want to change either.” The words sounded forlorn, and since Julie didn’t want to explain why she wasn’t sure about her ability to find other work, she deliberately made her expression lighter and brighter. “This is probably all worry for nothing. We don’t know what they plan.”

  “True that. We don’t know anything for sure yet. I’d better get back to work. Probably a good idea to look busy in case the new bosses come around.”

  Julie nodded in agreement, though there wasn’t any possibility now of concentrating on the interface for the personal transaction-logging app she’d been working on. She couldn’t help wondering about her future. Her stomach churned with nausea as she headed for the ladies’ room to wait it out on the bench there.

  Even more than the loss of income she worried about crossing paths with Daniel Foster again. Maybe he no longer worked for Spieler? She could only hope. She should be completely immune to him, but the shiver that ran along her nerves when she thought about seeing him again told her it wasn’t so.

  She straightened her spine and stood. Whatever happened, happened. She wouldn’t hide out, indulging her fear. She’d handled some really bad things already. At worst, this was just another speed bump on her career path, and she was in a much better position to negotiate it this time. She’d keep going.

  At eleven-thirty an email blast went out to the entire staff, stating there would be a meeting in the break room at two that afternoon. No additional facts or explanation were included.

  Her appetite for lunch had disappeared, but she forced herself to down a sandwich and an apple while acting like she was working at her desk. The time seemed to crawl toward two o’clock. Minutes felt like hours. The buzz in the office rasped at several levels higher than normal with people speculating about what was to come. At two minutes to two, she squeezed into the back of the breakroom, the largest space in the office, and took one of the last empty chairs. At the far end of the area, a group of four men and two women moved toward seats lined up behind a podium rolled in for the occasion. She recognized all but one of the group.

  Frank Worth, president, and Jay Martin, head of R&D for Cummings & Worth, her current employer, spoke to the president and the chief financial officer of Spieler Financials. Her heart rate sped up though she tried to make herself relax. She’d been warned it was likely to be them. She recognized Charles Quigley, president, Kris Thomas, executive vice president, and Tom Wootton, CFO, of Spieler, but not the fourth person behind them. And then she spotted him. Someone moved and she got a glimpse of Daniel Foster talking to another man. Dan’s tall, lean build and straight, neatly cut reddish-brown hair were unmistakable. To her, at least.

  She wanted to crouch down in her seat and hide but held herself proudly upright instead. She hadn’t committed the crime she’d been accused of and refused to act guilty or ashamed.

  Frank Worth approached the podium and the others took their seats. “I’m sure the rumor mill has been busy this morning,” he said, once everyone had quieted. “So most of you already know that Cummings & Worth will be merging with Spieler Financials effective immediately. At this time, I am stepping down and looking forward to a well-deserved retirement, but I trust that what we’ve build here will be in safe hands. I appreciate all the help and support I’ve gotten from all the employees and providers here over the years.” He offered a little background about Spieler and said he hoped everyone could be absorbed into the new company, and so on. Julie gave little heed to it. Dan Foster held most of her attention.

  From fifty feet away, across mo
st of the length of the break-room, he looked good: well-groomed, well-dressed, relaxed, confident, and ridiculously attractive. His lean, square-jawed face wasn’t really handsome until he smiled. Then the way his blue eyes gleamed and the dimples slashed his cheeks made him outrageously appealing. Right then, he wore a neutral expression as he surveyed the room.

  Julie recognized the moment he spotted her. His posture went stiff and his gaze locked on hers. He blinked but he continued to watch her through the rest of the presentation. At the end, he shook himself as though trying to pull himself out of a dream.

  She slipped out as it wrapped up and went back to the desk the company had provided for her. This time she didn’t even pretend to work. How long would it take?

  Maureen found her there a few minutes later. “What do you think? How many of us will they keep on? At least the layoff packages sound pretty generous.” She paused. “I guess that doesn’t apply to you.”

  “No. And I doubt the new owners will want me working with them.”

  “I still don’t get that. You’re Miss Super Programmer.”

  “Not to them.”

  “You sound like you know them.”

  “I do. I worked for the company at one time.”

  “Oh. Didn’t know that. But it didn’t end well, obviously.”

  “No. It didn’t. But it’s not something I can talk about.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. How about the people? Can you tell us anything about them? Especially the hot-looking guy with the reddish hair?”

  “Daniel Foster. He’s a jerk.”

  Maureen stepped back. “Okay. Some personal history there, I’m guessing.”

  “I was engaged to him for a while. That didn’t end well either.”

  THE EXPECTED personal summons came at four forty-five as most employees prepared to leave. Julie hadn’t planned to stay late, but she found herself following Frank Worth’s assistant to the larger conference room. On entering, she faced all of the party from Spieler, along with Frank Worth.

  The latter stood and held out a chair for her while speaking to the others. “I understand most of you already know Miss Harrison.”

  Charles Quigley, president of Spieler, answered in a tone so cold it threatened to freeze the water in the glasses on the table. “We’re acquainted with Miss Harrison.” None of them reached across to shake her hand. None said hello or even smiled. Julie refused to wilt under their hard gazes and looked at each in turn. She tried not to stare at Dan Foster any longer than any of the others.

  Frank continued. “I’m told that you want to discontinue Miss Harrison’s service to the company effective immediately.”

  Quigley leaned back and narrowed his eyes. “We did not see Miss Harrison’s name on the employee roster when we were discussing this merger.”

  “She’s not on the payroll. She works for one of our suppliers, J Varner Software. We contract with the company for developing new applications.”

  “That stops right now. There are other companies that can do the work.”

  Frank jotted a note on the pad in front of him. “May I ask a question?”

  “If it’s ‘why’ then the answer is no.”

  “It is a ‘why,’ but not that ‘why’. Why did you want to buy this company in the first place?”

  Quigley looked puzzled but answered. “Your company has assets that we feel could enhance our business.”

  “I presume you mean our suite of apps for investors?”

  The man nodded.

  Frank frowned at them. “Are you aware those apps were developed almost entirely by Miss Harrison? And that the two projects we have in development are also mostly created by Miss Harrison?”

  The others looked astonished. Dan Foster spoke for the first time. “The ideas didn’t originate with the company? You have two full-time IT employees.”

  “We do. One of them handles maintenance for our internal computer systems and websites. The other does work with Miss Harrison in development, but she does lower level coding and testing.”

  Quigley’s eyes narrowed, and he glared at Worth. “Why weren’t we told this?”

  She suspected Frank took considerable satisfaction in saying, “No one asked.”

  The others looked at each other, and finally the president said, “Obviously assumptions were made that shouldn’t have been.” He reserved the harshest glare for his executive vice president, who was also his niece, Kris Thomas.

  The woman glared back. “You gave me three days to do the personnel reviews. We didn’t have time to check every supplier other than verifying their existence and looking for complaints.”

  Quigley didn’t respond, didn’t even turn to acknowledge her words. “We’ll have to consider our next steps.”

  “Excuse me.” Julie spoke up for the first time. “Frank, may I ask you a couple of questions.”

  He looked surprised but said, “Of course.”

  “Thank you. In the year and a half I’ve been working with your company, have you ever had any reason to think I was sharing proprietary information with anyone outside the company?”

  His surprise turned to shock. “No. Most certainly not.”

  “And you’ve never had a competitor release a product similar to or the same as one I’ve developed before or soon after we introduced it.”

  “No. In fact, your ideas have put us so far ahead, only a few of our competitors are catching up even now. And at least two companies have wanted to buy us out just to get those apps you created.”

  “Thank you.” She looked at the others, keeping most of her attention on Quigley. “The transaction-logger app is at stage two of the five specified in the contract. J Varner has been paid for stage one. Stage two is deliverable in nine days and is ahead of schedule in development. We always honor any agreements we make. No contract has yet been signed for the currencies app. Cummings & Worth, and now your company, own intellectual property rights for all content already created and handed over under the contract for the transaction-logger app. Since there has been no contract yet for the currencies app, any specs, demos, or other material related to that proposal belong to J Varner Software Company.” She took a handful of business cards and set them on the table as she stood up. “My number’s on there, should you wish to discuss my doing further work on those projects. If not, I’ll give you the number for J Varner’s attorney. You can discuss terms for ending the contract with her.”

  She walked out, head high and back straight, leaving a stunned silence behind.

  At five-twenty, according to the clock on the wall, the office was mostly quiet. Julie trudged back to her cubicle and began packing her things. Though they’d given her a space to make testing and some of the development stages easier, she did more work from home, so she had only a few personal items to gather.

  Frank Worth approached as she snapped her laptop case closed. He held out a hand to her. “I’m sorry to spring that on you without warning. I didn’t know until a few hours ago that the former employer you had all the problems with was Spieler. I might not have made the deal if I had. Or at least I would have tried to warn you it was coming. I’m going to take my share of the profit from the sale and retire to Florida with my wife. But I do know your work put my company on the map and for that I’ll always be grateful. Whatever happens, I hope you’ll have continued success. If you should ever need a reference, call on me, please.”

  Her eyes stung as she fought back tears. “I think we’re at least even. You took a chance on my company, a company with very little track record.”

  “And have been repaid a hundredfold for taking that chance.”

  Julie smiled. “I’ve been repaid pretty well, too. Those last few contracts have done lovely things for my bank balance.”

  Frank nodded as she hoisted the laptop bag onto her shoulder. “I’m glad it’s been profitable for you as well. Good luck to you in the future. I’m sure you’ll do well, though. If Spieler doesn’t co-operate, take the cu
rrencies app to Julian McCandry at Hornhurst. Drop me an email and I’ll put you in touch with him.”

  She thanked him, gave his hand a last squeeze, and headed for the elevator lobby. Eager to get out of the building, she pressed the button three times in succession, willing the car to hurry up and get there. Behind her, the main door from the office opened and closed at the same time the elevator doors slid apart. Julie stepped on and turned around.

  She found herself looking up at Daniel Foster. At a couple of inches over six feet, he was quite a bit taller than she was. His expression looked strained and anxious. A few fine lines she didn’t remember being there radiated from the corners of his eyes.

  She jabbed the button for the ground floor, but he reached forward and put a hand on the door to stop it when it started to close. “Julie, we need to talk.” His voice was the same, deep, smooth, and mellow as dark chocolate.

  “Did they designate you to cajole me into…whatever it is they want me to do?”

  His lips twitched as he straightened up. “No. I mean yes. Sort of.”

  “You should pick one answer and stick to it.” She pushed the button to close the elevator doors.

  Again he reached out to stop them. “Yes, they sent me, but I want to talk to you, and it doesn’t concern what happened today.”

  She stopped in the act of pressing the button yet again and stared at him, studying the face that once was so dear to her. There were a few changes in addition to the lines at the corners of his eyes. His cheeks were leaner, more hollowed out, and a small scar bisected his left eyebrow.

  She sighed. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

  He put a hand on the door when she pushed the button again. “Yes, we do. We have a lot to talk about.” His piercing, silvery blue eyes held her gaze.

  “Okay, so maybe,” she conceded. “But I can’t handle it right now. Today has already held enough surprises. And I’m late for a meeting with friends.”

  “Will you be here tomorrow?” he asked.