by Jane Henry
"Good morning, Mr. Angelico," Louisa said pleasantly on the other line.
"Morning, Louisa," he said, feeling the impatience of the necessary pleasantries. "I have an important meeting in a few minutes and can't seem to locate a crucial folder. Have you seen a blue folder that I left on my desk before vacation?"
"No, sir, I haven't been in your office, and don't recall seeing a folder. But I'll look through what I have here anyway, in case it somehow mistakenly ended up with my papers." Louisa was fastidious, stringently tidy, and an accidental paperwork mistake seem unfathomable. He sighed.
"Thank you," he said. "And please let me know when the consultants we've hired have arrived."
"They've already arrived, sir," she said, and at the same time, he heard a knock on his office door.
"Thank you, Louisa," he said, as he hung up the phone. "Come in."
Jay Divris, the head of finance at the school, entered. He was the son of Reynold Divris, head of the Board of Directors, and was to the school what old money was to a town—alumni, born and raised to be Easterbrook material. He was always poised and on his game, but today he looked stricken. Tall, thin, and wiry, he moved quickly and with purpose. He ran a hand through his tuft of thinning dark hair, and adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses on his nose.
"Dom," he said in greeting, with a curt nod. Dom nodded in return.
"Good vacation?"
"Relaxing," Dom said, moving immediately past small talk, as he could tell Jay was bothered by something. "Everything okay?"
"The Board of Directors insisted on meeting with the consultants before we did," he said in a rush, sitting heavily at the chair on the opposite side of Dom's desk. It seemed everyone who sat in that chair was always on edge, emotionally-charged, or near tears. Students who faced suspension or expulsion, weepy mothers who feared for the disciplinary actions against students who'd broken school rules, teachers who were stressed or angered, or feared a pending layoff. He did what he always did. He took a calming breath, folded his hands atop his desk, and nodded to Jay.
"A reasonable request," he said. "Though you know I'd love to be a fly on the wall in there; it seems if we all move forward with the same end-goal in mind, we should be able to find common ground. No?"
Jay gave another nod. "I agree," he said. "Though it disturbs me that the financial paperwork I had prepared for today's meeting has gone missing."
Dom was immediately on edge. "You overheard my conversation with Louisa?" he asked, confused.
Jay gave him an equally-confused look. "Louisa? No. I was talking about the quarterly reports I left on my desk." He eyed the closed door behind him. Satisfied it was shut tight, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, as his voice dropped. "It should come as no surprise that I trust you," he said.
Dom nodded, pleased, but curious what Jay's point was. Jay continued.
"What bothers me is that I can't trust everyone here," he said. Despite the relative warmth of the room, Dom felt a chill come over him. Up until recently, he had, like nearly everyone else on the staff, assumed that the funds that had been inappropriately obtained by the two former board members had been an isolated incident. Though they'd investigated, no one on staff had been implicated in the affair.
"Go on," Dom said. Jay's voice dropped even lower.
"I was contacted by the consultant group we're meeting with this afternoon, and asked to provide the necessary paperwork. I faxed it to them, then intentionally left the papers in a folder on my desk."
"I did the same," Dom said, his hackles rising as he suspected where this story was going.
"Yours still here?" Jay asked.
Dom sat back in his chair, placing his fingertips together.
"Nope."
Jay's eyes narrowed.
"Yet whoever the fool was who took them didn't realize that a paper trail is easily copied," he said. He leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. "I have everything saved on the server and to a flash drive I took home with me."
Dom smiled wryly. "Good move," he said. "Though I don't like the fact that, clearly, we have underhandedness going on."
"Me neither," Jay said grimly. A knock came at the door, and both men sat up straighter.
"Come in," Dom called, and the door opened. An older woman, with short, curly gray hair, thick glasses and a small, snub nose, peeked in.
"Mr. Angelico, the conference room is prepared for your meeting, but I've not yet found your folder," she said. "It's vacant, but I've put out refreshments and everything else you requested."
"Thank you, Louisa," Dom said, standing and pulling his suit coat from the back of his chair, quickly slipping it on. "Mr. Divris and I have the paperwork covered, but I do thank you for looking."
Louisa gave a polite nod. "Would you like me to fetch anything else for the meeting?"
"No, thank you," he said, gesturing for Jay to join him as he exited his office and headed for the conference room.
"You said the consultants are meeting with the Board of Directors first?" Dom asked, walking so briskly Jay fairly trotted to keep up with him.
"Yes," he said. "They're due to join us in about fifteen minutes."
"Good," Dom said. "That will give us a chance to discuss what we hope this consultation can achieve." Dom was grateful they'd be the first ones in the room, as he felt being the first there would give him an upper hand. It burned to think that someone on his very staff was untrustworthy.
The room to the conference room was ajar, and he pushed it open as Jay continued. "I heard the woman who runs this show is a bit of a ball-buster," he said. "My wife's best friend had a run-in with her a month ago in town, and on her recommendation, she sent a quarter of the staff packing. Said lay-offs, or the company folds."
"Great," Dom said, "If these people think they're going to come in here and layoff my staff, I—" he began to say, but as he pushed the door open, the words froze on his lips.
The conference room was not vacant. The consultants were no longer meeting with the Board of Directors.
Sitting at the table was one very handsome, very well-dressed, stranger Dom knew immediately to be on the consultant team who'd been called in to help set the books to rights. The look on his face was placid, but barely pleasant, and Dom knew without a doubt that he'd overheard the last bit of conversation he and Jay had had before they'd entered the room. But it wasn't the well-dressed stranger who held his attention. Next to him, wide-eyed, with flushed cheeks, her hands clasped so tightly atop the table her knuckles were white, sat Heidi.
Chapter 11
Not possible.
She'd repeated those words to herself a dozen times in the minute that had passed since she'd first heard his distinctive smoky voice from the doorway, even checking her phone—which she'd deliberately placed face-down and slightly out of reach on the conference room table to prevent herself from obsessively checking for new texts while in her meeting—to see if she'd somehow, impossibly, managed to call him just by thinking his name. But, no, Dom's scowl was too fierce for her to have imagined, so apparently, it was possible. Dom was here, and he was furious.
She felt Paul shift in his seat and could sense him watching her, expecting her to rise and get the situation under control, to do her job and diffuse the instant tension that had gripped the room, but she was trapped, unable to turn her gaze away from Dom's.
"Good morning," Paul said, breaking the silence by rising to his feet smoothly and extending his hand. "I'm Paul Lozano. And you're Mr… Angelico?"
"Call me Dom," he replied, gripping Paul's hand, though his eyes never left Heidi's.
Heidi's own hands felt like blocks of ice, as all of the available blood in her body had rushed to her cheeks, stealing her breath and leaving her unable to do more than stare at Dom's face in horror. Just a few hours ago, those jade green eyes had felt like salvation. She'd been his 'baby', his 'good girl'. But now…
A ball-buster… that's what the other man had called her. It wasn't the first
time she'd heard that, of course. She'd definitely been called worse. Suggesting layoffs as one possible way to cut costs was part of her job, and she made a convenient scapegoat for employers who wanted to take the quickest path out of bankruptcy. She thought she'd developed a thick skin over the years, but today, knowing Dom had heard it, seeing the hostility in his eyes… Shit, but it stung.
She heard Paul inhale sharply as he recognized Dom's name, and her face flushed impossibly hotter even as part of her wanted to laugh. Yeah, Paul, this is the guy.
"Uh… Jay Divris," the other man volunteered, when it appeared that no one was going to introduce him, and Dom's magnetic gaze finally shifted and freed her.
She felt a quick pulse of sorrow in her belly. Things had seemed so damn promising a few hours ago. She felt a momentary desire to just sit back down and follow Dom's lead, let him sort the whole mess out.
And it was that impulse that finally launched her to her feet. She hadn't gotten where she was by being sweet and submissive with her clients, and if that was the type of girl Dom needed, well… better to know that now.
She took a deep breath and extended her own hand.
"Heidi Morrow," she told Jay Divris with a firm handshake. "Why don't we sit down, gentlemen?"
As the men took their seats and shuffled their papers, Paul reached out and laid his hand on Heidi's wrist in a questioning gesture, an unspoken Are you okay? Heidi gave him a brief half-smile, and was surprised to see Paul's lips quirk in amusement. What the hell was funny?
Paul glanced pointedly across the table, and Heidi lifted her gaze to find Dom staring fixedly at Paul's hand on her wrist.
Without conscious thought, she pulled her wrist away from Paul and took her own seat.
"Ms. Morrow, Mr. Lozano," Jay began in a placating tone, almost before everyone had taken their seats. "I'm sorry for the conversation you overheard as we were walking in. It was very unprofessional."
Well, wasn't that an interesting opener? Heidi saw her surprise mirrored on Dom's face and felt like giggling. Clearly Dom didn't feel that he owed anyone an apology at all, the jerk.
As though he felt her looking at him, his expression blanked and he sat back in his seat with his arms folded.
She almost forgave Jay for his ball-buster comment. Almost. But then…
"But you have to know why we're a bit on-edge. I mean, your reputation is fairly well-known," he concluded, tossing Dom a smirk that said exactly what he thought of that reputation. "I think if we're going to start off on the right foot, we need to set some ground rules…"
Heidi gritted her teeth.
"Mr. Divris," she interrupted sweetly. "I've earned a reputation for helping clients find a path to fiscal solvency. Often, the path they choose requires hard choices. But those are not my choices. And since we…"
"You make them fire people!" Jay interrupted.
"Of course we don't," Paul returned calmly. "We don't have the authority to do that, for one thing."
Jay harrumphed.
"That's absolutely accurate," Heidi agreed. "We make recommendations. That's all. And, frankly…"
"That must be tough," Dom challenged, eyes focused somewhere behind her head.
These were the only words he'd spoken, besides his name, and they instantly captured everyone's attention.
"What must be tough?" Heidi clenched her hands under the table and struggled to keep her emotions in check. Some rational part of her brain knew that she'd lost control of this meeting—if she'd ever had it to begin with—and she needed to focus. But how could she when just hearing his voice, seeing his distant expression, wreaked havoc on her emotions?
"Working under someone else's authority," he explained, his green gaze meeting hers squarely.
Did Dom really just say that?
The sudden tension in Paul's body confirmed that indeed, he had.
"I imagine it would be much easier to just make all of your own decisions and keep all of your information to yourself, wouldn't it?" he mused.
Jay seemed ready to high-five him in thanks for his support.
Heidi's heart began to pound. Oh, no. He would not put this on her. Keeping her information to herself? When she had been the one to demand a reckoning and he had been the one to put it off?
Her temper flared.
"Not at all, Mr… I'm so sorry, what was your name again?" she pretended to scan the sheaf of papers in front of her.
"Dom."
A single word, spoken in a tone ringing with authority. Not just his name, but his essence. A happy accident when his mother filled out his birth certificate. Dom.
She inhaled sharply, and felt her anger evaporate. She spoke the truth as clearly as she could.
"I have no problem submitting to authority when that authority is clearly defined—when everyone's roles are clearly defined. I've been authorized to do a specific job, Dom. I'm going to do it."
There was no challenge in her statement, just a plea for understanding.
He nodded once, an acceptance, before looking away.
But God, what did that mean? Accepting that she needed to do this job, and that it was separate from what they shared? Or accepting that this was… the end?
She was angry with both of them suddenly. Why did it have to be the end? They were both mature adults. And she wanted this, wanted him, more than she could ever remember wanting anything.
"I can't make anyone do anything they don't want to do," she said softly, looking around the table, but speaking only to him. "I honestly don't want to. The final decision is yours. If anyone is going to lose their—position—it will be your decision, not mine."
Dom's eyes lifted to hers and held. She could see hope and caution warring in them.
"That's ridiculous!" Jay banged his fist on the table, commanding their attention and interrupting the moment. "My father and the board make those decisions, not us. And you give your recommendations to the board! Dom and I are the only ones at this table without any say in this process."
"Not true," Paul interjected, before Heidi could speak. He speared Jay with a hostile look. "We make many recommendations and propose several different solutions—that's what we're hired to do. But our recommendations are only as complete as the information you provide to us, which, thus far, has been almost nothing. Our goal is to work together with you, cooperatively, but in order to do that, you need to provide us with the information we've requested. If you can propose additional sources of revenue or budget cuts, we would be happy—no, thrilled!—to present those possible solutions to the board. Believe me, no one wants to see anyone lose a job over this, least of all Ms. Morrow and I."
Jay shook his head incredulously. "If there were additional sources of revenue, don't you think we'd have tapped them? If there were padding in the budget, don't you think we would have cut it?" he demanded. He looked to Dom for support, but Dom's eyes were fixed on Heidi.
"What I think," Heidi replied, "is that we are well-versed in looking for unusual sources of revenue, and uncommon ways of trimming budgets. Every situation is unique, Mr. Divris. What I hope is that we can work together to figure out solutions that will work for us in this particular situation."
Damn. Was she clear enough? Did Dom understand what she was trying to tell him? She shifted her gaze to his.
He understood.
He unclenched his arms and sat forward, hands on the table.
"What I know," he said, echoing Heidi's words, "And I think you'll agree, Jay, is that we have an untenable situation here."
Dom looked at Heidi speculatively. She nodded. They couldn't go on this way.
Jay reluctantly nodded too, though Dom didn't even glance in his direction.
"Trust is the key," Dom continued. "And right now there seems to be a lack of trust between us… I mean, between us and certain members of the board."
Jay snickered. "They act like we need babysitters. Which is pretty ironic, considering they are the ones who fucked the whole thing up."
Dom raised an eyebrow at Jay's language. So much for Jay's professionalism.
"Anyway," Dom continued, with another significant glance at Heidi. "It's difficult to have a relationship with the board, since they insist on withholding information from us. We didn't even know that they'd hired an independent consultant until last week."
Back to the whole withholding information thing? No way, buddy. That won't fly.
"Is that entirely the board's fault?" Heidi interjected smartly. "Seems as though information was withheld on both sides."
And that was true not only of her relationship with Dom, but of the information Easterbrook had withheld from Heidi.
"We just learned from Mr. Divris this morning that there must have been someone on staff—a member of the in-house review board—who approved these unqualified applications. And that you conducted an internal investigation, but that staff member has never been caught or disciplined. Trust is a two-way street."
Dom raised his chin to acknowledge her point and pursed his lips thoughtfully, though his eyes twinkled.
"I appreciate your desire to have the culprit caught and disciplined, Ms. Morrow. I think we'll work together very well."
This time it was Paul who smothered a laugh. Heidi was too busy squirming in her seat, gripped by an acute wave of lust brought on by the one-two punch of his words and the deep, smoky voice in which he said them. How had the entire table not caught on fire?
Jay sighed, clearly unable to read the particular variety of tension that charged the air, but understanding that Dom was no longer on his side.
"So," Dom continued softly, no doubt confirming Jay's fears. "While we might wish that this situation were different, we've got to solve this problem together. We will trust you to fulfill your role, and you can trust us to help you with whatever you need."
Heidi drew a sharp breath and stared at him.