by Liz Isaacson
Paul had an office on the third floor, and she knocked when she arrived. Without waiting for him to invite her in, she strode forward and shook his hand. “Morning, Paul.” She perched on the edge of the straight-backed chair available across from him. “Tell me about this audit.”
“Wow, look at you.” He leaned back in his chair and surveyed her, stalling on her ridiculous dark hair and light eyebrows. He blinked, which apparently allowed him to speak again. “You have a master’s degree in accounting?”
“I do.” She’d taken most of her classes online, right here in Brush Creek while she did the bookkeeping for the family business. She’d left town for a couple of years to finish in Colorado Springs, on-site, and then she’d promptly come back. She liked things that lined up, and numbers that added up, and life to be simple and uncomplicated.
“The City Council would like to hire you to do the financial audit.”
“Don’t they have their own internal auditor?” she asked.
“They do, but it’s been proposed and accepted that there be an independent audit, done by someone with no interest in the outcomes. We just need someone to do the job and give us the report.” He tilted his head and steepled his fingers. “Can you do that?”
“Of course.” She’d participated in an audit of a huge insurance firm while in her last year of college. It had been nightmarish work, though, and she didn’t want to do another audit, ever. Especially of her hometown police department. “Perhaps, though—”
“Great.” Paul leaned forward and tossed a card on his desk. “There’s Chief Fairbanks’s personal line. Call his secretary and set up an appointment to see him. He should be able to help you with everything you need.”
Berlin blinked, her muscles, bones, and blood turning numb. “Chief Fairbanks,” she repeated. He could most certainly not help her with everything she needed, as evidenced by yesterday’s disastrous afternoon.
Fifty-four minutes, her brain whispered. And twenty of those had been spent driving. She picked up the card and slipped it into her hollow briefcase. “How long do I have?”
“Ninety days,” he said. “And we’d like you to come to all the City Council meetings between now and then for updates.”
“Every week?” Berlin couldn’t keep the horror out of her voice. She’d lived through her father being on the Council, and sometimes the Tuesday night meetings went until midnight. Everything in her rebelled at the idea of attending the City Council meetings, because not only did she crave her free time in the evenings, but she knew the Chief of Police also went.
Auditing the police department and going to Council meetings was not the way to avoid seeing him.
But Paul stood, the meeting clearly over, and said, “As often as you can. Obviously not tomorrow, as you’ll have just started. I’ll report that you’ve taken the assignment. There’s a budget and all the paperwork for you to get paid. Let’s see….” He rummaged around on his desk for a moment, finally coming up with a manila folder. “Here you go. Let me know if you have any questions.”
He sat down and picked up the phone, her cue to take the folder and go. Back in the privacy and safety of her own office, she pulled out the papers and examined them. The budget for her to complete the audit was huge—easily twice her yearly salary here at A Jack of All Trades.
A smile slipped across her face. Maybe this much money was worth having to face the surly Chief of Police a few more times. How hard could it be? She probably wouldn’t even have to talk to him. Surely he had a secretary, and Berlin could likely get what she needed for the audit from that person.
Still, she put off calling over to the police department for a couple of days. Mostly because she really did have a ton of paperwork and reports to finish for her own business, but partly because she held a blip of fear at dialing the Chief’s personal number and demanding all their financial documents for the past five years.
Thursday afternoon, Wren poked her head into Berlin’s office and said, “I’m taking off early. See you tomorrow.”
With the office quiet, and Berlin mostly caught up on the quarterly reports, she summoned the courage she needed to make the phone call.
“Chief Fairbanks,” Cole barked into the line after only one ring.
“Oh.” Berlin had been expecting the secretary to answer, and she had no idea what to say now.
A squeak came through the line, like he’d leaned back in his desk chair and it was protesting. “Can I help you?” He’d asked her the same thing at the summer fair, almost a week ago.
“It’s Berlin,” she said, making her voice as brusque as his. “Berlin Fuller? I’m performing the independent audit of your department, and I’m wondering what your schedule looks like? I need to meet with you.”
Chapter Four
Cole’s mood went from sour to downright dangerous with Berlin’s words. I need to meet with you.
So he hadn’t asked her out again. Hadn’t called. Or texted. The date had been awful, if he was being honest with himself. He felt something move through his blood when he looked at Berlin, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Perhaps simple attraction.
He’d appreciated her casual attire on Sunday, and she’d carried the conversation. Truth was, Cole didn’t know how to date. Didn’t know how to make a woman feel at ease. He’d spent his whole life learning how to get people to tell him the truth, and that usually made people squirm a bit.
“Are you there?” she asked. “Did I lose you?” Even her voice sent shockwaves through him.
“I’m here,” he said. “I’m looking at my schedule.” He clicked on his computer so he wouldn’t be a liar and pulled up his calendar.
“You don’t have a secretary that manages things for you?” she asked.
Of course he did. But Lesli was on vacation this week and most of next, and he could look at a calendar as well as she could anyway. He grunted, which could’ve meant yes or no. “I have some time tomorrow morning, first thing, or next Tuesday right after lunch.”
Berlin exhaled like neither of those times would work. He could juggle a few things, move a meeting if he had to. But he waited for her to speak. She’d told him she was the accountant for her family’s business, and while he knew the City Council would be performing an independent audit of the department’s finances, he’d had no idea who they’d hire to do it. Guess he knew now.
“Might as well get it over with,” she said. “What time tomorrow morning?”
He scowled though she wasn’t in the room and couldn’t see him. Might as well get it over with. Like seeing him was such a chore. He supposed he hadn’t been super nice or charming on Sunday, but he couldn’t fix it now.
“I come in at seven-thirty,” he said. “I have another appointment at nine-thirty. So those two hours are yours, if you want them.”
“Do you think we’ll need two hours?”
“How would I know?” Cole took a deep breath and schooled his voice into civility. “I’m at your mercy, Miss Fuller. I’ve never been through a department audit. I’ll leave it up to you to decide how long we need to meet.”
A healthy pause came through the line, and then she said. “I’ll see you at seven-thirty. Do you drink coffee?”
“Yes,” he said, wondering what that had to do with anything.
“What about doughnuts? Do you eat those?”
“Is this a bad cop joke?” He narrowed his eyes at his closed door, wishing he’d been nicer, better, something during their date. In a town the size of Brush Creek, he should’ve known he’d have to see her again.
She laughed, the sound magical and making his bad mood dry up instantly. “No, Chief. I’m wondering if I can bring coffee and pastries in the morning to, uh, make the meeting go smoother.” She gave another low laugh. “You seem like a black coffee kind of guy, who…probably gets up at five to work out. Run ten miles or something. So maybe a simple croissant?”
“Black coffee is fine,” he said. He had his own supply of specialty sugars and fa
ncy creams, but she didn’t need to know that. He could doctor up the coffee in the building’s kitchen while she looked through some boring paperwork. “And I’ll take one of those bear claws from Erin’s.”
“Oh, a bear claw. Chocolate or cinnamon? Wait, let me guess.”
If Cole didn’t know better—if he hadn’t completely blundered their date a few days ago—he’d have said Berlin was flirting with him.
“Chocolate,” they said together, and that finally elicited a chuckle from Cole. “See you tomorrow, Miss Fuller.”
“Oh, come on, Chief,” she said. “You can call me Berlin.”
“Then you can call me Cole.” Did he have another chance with her? He hadn’t gone out with anyone else this week, as Jordan and Mason liked to remind him each morning when they popped their heads in to say “Eighty-five days left, Chief. One date,” the countdown apparently switching between the two of them.
“See you tomorrow…Cole.” Berlin hung up, and Cole wondered if a business meeting where someone brought coffee and doughnuts for the other could be considered a date.
When Cole pulled up to the station at seven twenty-five the next morning, Berlin was already there, standing beside her car. A brown pastry box sat on the top, as did a single to-go cup of coffee. She held hers in her hand, sipping it as she leaned against her car and watched him.
She wore a pair of black slacks, black heels, and a blouse the color of lemons. It made her skin seem darker than it was, and her hair shone like black gold under the morning sunlight. So Cole found her beautiful. Exotic, almost, like he’d never seen anyone like her before.
The spark that had first attracted him to her flared to life again, and he took an extra moment pretending to gather what he needed from the car to pray for strength. While he hadn’t darkened the doorway of a church in several years, his mama had taught him to believe in God and love the Lord. So if he threw up a few prayers here and there, Cole at least felt like he wasn’t too bad of a son.
He finally got out of the car and approached her. She looked at her phone, her eyes flitting right past his. “Seven twenty-seven. Right on time.”
“You’re early.” He accepted the coffee cup she handed him, but he didn’t take a sip. Her keen gaze didn’t miss a single thing and she nodded toward the pastry box. He collected it and she bent to retrieve her briefcase, which she’d set at her feet.
“I don’t like to be late,” she said. “And I really dislike it when others are late.”
“Me too.” He seized onto this tidbit of information, so glad they had something else in common. It seemed like everything they’d talked about was surface stuff or only proved to him how opposite they were. And while opposites definitely attracted, he didn’t want to spend his life seeking out restaurants with vegetarian options.
Don’t be a beast. Mason’s words from last night, when Cole had told him Berlin was coming in the morning for the audit, haunted him. It wasn’t like Cole liked appraising every person who approached him, every situation presented to him. It was simply what he’d spent his life doing.
He opened the door for her and waited for Berlin to pass him. He caught a whiff of her perfume, getting a nose full of flowers and sugar. She’d obviously already consumed a doughnut, and he wondered how long she’d been waiting in the parking lot.
He liked the way she carried herself with confidence, her shoulders square and her head held high. She’d piled her hair on top of her head in some sort of up-do that could’ve been worn to prom. Cole wondered how old she was. He obviously knew she was younger than him, but the difference was important.
“How old are you?” he blurted.
She slowed and stopped, turned and quirked one eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?” Her grip tightened on her briefcase, and Cole wasn’t sure if he was glad he noticed every little detail or not.
“I’m sorry. Never mind.” He could just look her up in the system. She had a driver’s license. She turned and kept walking toward his corner office, almost like she’d been there before.
He mentally kicked himself and told himself to talk softer. Ask more roundabout questions. Or none at all. This wasn’t a date, and if the independent auditor were anyone but Berlin Fuller, he’d have left the cases of files on the front step and told the guy to stop by and pick them up.
Sighing, he eased himself into the room with her, coaching himself to be nice. Be nice. Be nice.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk. “Please,” he added as an afterthought.
Berlin flashed him a tight smile and sat, pulling out a sheet of paper from her briefcase. “Okay.” She exhaled slowly, like air leaking from a balloon. “I’m not here to audit internal investigations, police shootings, in-custody deaths, or complaints.” She glanced up. “I assume you have an in-house auditor for those things?”
Cole shifted in his seat. “It’s on my to-do list.” He’d only been in this job for a couple of years, and it was a small town. An in-house auditor required money, and budget approval, and Cole hadn’t gotten to it yet.
“Oh, well, it’s not required.” Berlin spoke with an air of nonchalance, though it was clear she thought he should have an in-house auditor for those things. It wasn’t a bad idea, though he hadn’t experienced any police shootings or in-custody deaths since he’d been here. Brush Creek PD hadn’t in the last eight years, in fact. So he’d had a hard time adding it to the department budget.
“I’m just here for the financials,” she said. “So I need ledgers for revenue and expenses, payroll accounts, including all overtime reports, and grant activity, billing procedures, and charity fund accounting.” She met his eye. “There’s more.” She handed him the paper, and he took it without taking his eyes off of her.
Could she feel that current between them? Or was the room just too small?
Berlin cleared her throat and shifted on the seat, crossing her legs and looking straight into his eyes again. “I’m sure you know what I need.”
“Indeed I do.” It wasn’t his first audit, though it was the first where he sat at the helm of the whole department. Even though he’d only been here for a couple of years, it would still be his name at the top of the report when it was published.
He cocked his head at her. “Tell me I’m not crazy.”
“Pardon?” She folded her arms across her chest, and Cole’s attraction to her doubled.
He leaned forward, the air practically crackling between them. “Let’s try again,” he said. “And I’ll not be in such a…bad mood.”
“Try what again, exactly?”
So she was going to make him say it. “Dating. Me and you. What’s your schedule like tonight?”
Her eyes widened, and she leaned toward him again. “You’re kind of intimidating. Did you know that?”
“I’ve heard that before,” he said coolly. “But I swear I don’t mean to come off that way. It’s just…I’m just….”
“Tall,” she said. “Dark.” She didn’t blink, and her mouth barely moved when she added, “Handsome,” to the list.
So he wasn’t imagining things. He hadn’t truly thought he was, but it was nice to know. As a cop, he was trained to take what he believed and forget about it. Search for the truth instead.
He hated the wide desk between them. “Would you like to go to dinner tonight?” He gave her the smile his last crush had told him made her entire chest melt. Cole couldn’t help it if he had a dazzling smile. He had to have something to offset his prickly personality.
Berlin’s fingers flitted around her throat and a beautiful blush climbed into her face. “Dinner would be fine. But I don’t like that crepe place.”
“It was pretty bad, wasn’t it?” He chuckled. “Mine wasn’t even cooked all the way and it only had about three strawberries inside.”
She laughed, the sound getting trapped up in the corners. Cole basked in it, his heart softening toward this woman.
When she quieted, he said, “So tell me where to
go. I want the food to be good, and the atmosphere to be awesome, and I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“Teddy’s?” she suggested. “It’s this great place on the highway up by Maple Mountain. They have live music on the weekends and great food.” Her eyes positively sparkled when she said, “Lots of red meat.”
Cole laughed this time and he stood. “Are you going to eat the meat?”
“I get the pulled pork sandwich there,” she said, looking up at him. “But I’m willing to branch out.”
It felt like they weren’t talking about the menu anymore, and Cole cleared his throat. “Let me get you the files you need for the audit. If we don’t get started on it, we might not make it to dinner tonight.”
A look of panic crossed Berlin’s beautiful face. “That much stuff, huh?”
“It’s been five years since this department has had a financial audit,” he said. “I hope they gave you a decent chunk of time to do this. Don’t you have a full-time job already?”
“Yeah.” She sighed and scraped a few errant strands of hair off the side of her face. “They gave me ninety days.”
Cole whistled. “That’s gonna be a tight race.” He stepped over to the door and opened it. “I’ll help you with the boxes.”
Chapter Five
Berlin immensely enjoyed watching Cole bend and flex and lift box after box. She was not overly excited about the number of them. They took up the entire backseat of her sedan, the whole trunk, and he stacked three in the front passenger seat too.
Ninety days was definitely not long enough to get this audit completed, and she’d need to talk to the City Controller about getting more time. Paul hadn’t seemed like he was willing to accept any compromise from her, but she’d insist based on her full-time employment outside the scope of this audit.