by JoAnn Durgin
“Since when is that our problem, Caleb?”
“Not our problem that people are becoming addicted to tobacco products from something they buy at a Reidco station?”
Steve met his gaze. “That’s stretching it. You can’t be responsible for someone else.”
“That’s true, but if I can prevent one kid from getting addicted to cigarettes, or prevent one pregnant woman from inhaling nicotine, then I can sleep better at night.”
“Isn’t that being overdramatic?”
Caleb sat back in his chair. “Perhaps, but it’s called going with my gut, doing the right thing, following God’s leading, and keeping my conscience clean.”
Steve removed his glasses and cleaned them with the corner of his suit coat before speaking again. “Know what I think? You’re allowing a skirt to sway your business decisions. You’ve gone soft, and that’s not the Caleb Reid I’ve known and admired all these years.”
Tamping down his anger, Caleb forced calm into his tone. “This has nothing to do with Catherine Lewis if that’s what your lewd insinuation is meant to imply. I’ll ask you not to disrespect her, or me, by saying things like that. It’s enough that she forgave me for that ridiculous impersonation trick we pulled on her the first day she came to the office.”
Steve’s forehead creased, and his lips thinned. “Try to see it from my perspective. You’ve been in hiding since your wife died, and now all of a sudden you’re parading around with the Lewis woman like some stupid college kid in the throes of his first affair. And, as long as I’ve known you, you’ve rarely mentioned God, much less making him some kind of partner in Belac. It’s good to see you smile again, but all I’m saying is…don’t be blind and foolish.”
“First of all, I’m not having an affair with Catherine Lewis. If I hear anything to that effect, I’ll start eliminating people from the payroll. Is that understood?”
Steve held his gaze. “Yes, sir.”
“The decision to remove the tobacco sales has nothing to do with her.” Neither did he want to divulge anything regarding Lauren and the kidnapping threats. That was no one’s business but his. The less people who knew, the better. “Furthermore, Miss Lewis has nothing whatsoever to do with the ledger discrepancies. I’d stake my reputation on it.”
“Then be prepared to have that reputation sullied by your poor decisions and bad judgment.”
Caleb sighed. Lord, give me the words. Keep my patience in check. “Her work record has been excellent for the five years she’s worked for Belac and Reidco. As far as God being a partner in Belac, look at Him as a silent partner. He’s going to be around a lot more often. Steve, talk to me. We’ve worked together a long time. Tell me why you suspect her of falsifying records.”
“Because she has the ways and the means to do it. She has something to prove perhaps.”
Caleb stared at the other man, unwilling to believe what he’d heard between the lines of that statement. Caty was one of the few female accountants working for Belac, and the only woman in the Reidco division. “That’s all the proof you have? Because she’s a woman or for some other reason?”
The muscles in Steve’s jaws flexed. “Don’t accuse me of sexism.”
“I didn’t imply that. You did.” Caleb sat back in his chair. “This meeting is over. I’m having Cordelia schedule the quarterly board meeting for Thursday morning, and I plan to announce the withdrawal of tobacco sales. I’m pulling rank on this one, and I’ll expect you in the meeting. Thanks for your time.” Caleb turned his attention to the computer screen to indicate his dismissal.
Steve rose slowly from the chair. “You built this company by being smart, Caleb. Don’t tear it down by acting stupid over a woman and allowing your emotions and physical desires to take over your business decisions.”
Caleb looked at Steve and felt nothing but pity. “I don’t want to let you go at this stage of the game, but I will if your behavior warrants it, and if I feel it’s necessary. You’ve got one foot over the edge of the cliff as it is, Steve. I don’t want to hear you say—so much as hint of anything improper—about Miss Lewis again. Are we understood?”
Without another word, Steve left the office.
~~♥~~
In the breakroom, Caty stirred cream into her coffee. She smiled, thinking of Marta’s reaction to Lauren’s clue-solving ability.
“That girl is brilliant!” Marta proclaimed after she’d checked Barney’s collar. “Lauren was exactly right. Barney’s collar has a locket, and the second clue was written on a piece of paper folded up inside it. Here’s what it says: It’s not ticking, but it’s precious to the TeamWork crew.
Caty wondered if the answer to that clue could be as deceptively simple as Sam’s old, white Volvo station wagon, affectionately nicknamed by Lexa as “the bomb.” The car he’d driven for years for missions, including the 1997 mission in San Antonio where he’d met Lexa.
Sensing someone else had entered the breakroom, Caty glanced up and met the hard gaze of Steve Robison. “Good morning, Mr. Robison.” She’d managed a pleasant tone although she couldn’t quite muster a smile.
“Miss Lewis.” With his coffee mug in hand, he walked to the coffee maker. His appearance was a surprise since she assumed his assistant usually delivered coffee to him.
Stepping aside to make room for him at the counter, Caty debated whether to take her leave. What could she say? The man had worked for Caleb a long time, and he trusted him. Steve obviously didn’t trust her.
“I hope everything is going well for you.” She added a packet of sweetener to her coffee since her first sip had been stronger than the usual brew. Suma normally made the coffee, but someone else must have made it this morning.
“No, it’s not, as a matter of fact.” His voice was low, controlled, and could in no way be construed as friendly. His facial features were expressionless.
She looked up at him in surprise. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Brushing up beside her, he put one hand on her arm, applying firm pressure. “Caleb might be fooled by your charms, but I’m not.”
Caty swallowed her gasp, but Steve Robison had already departed.
~~♥~~
“Caleb, Miles Durand is here to see you.”
“Right.” Caleb sat back in his chair. What a day, and it was only ten a.m. He didn’t want to see Miles at the moment. He wanted to see Caty so she could reassure him that the world hadn’t indeed gone crazy. He was flying to Dallas with Lauren on Wednesday to see Lettie and staying overnight, then returning early on Thursday morning in time to drop off Lauren at Greenbriar-Browne. Shortly afterwards, he’d walk into his board meeting where he’d announce the decision to discontinue all tobacco sales in the Reidco convenience stores. He was still the one in control of his corporation, and he’d assert his authority for the decision. He would not accept a vote or a compromise. His decision was final.
“For what it’s worth, in my opinion, you’re doing the right thing regarding the tobacco sales,” Cordelia said, breaking into Caleb’s thoughts. She stepped closer to his desk. “Do you have any idea how much I admire you?”
Caleb glanced up at her with grateful eyes. “No, I guess not. Thanks for that. I already sent through the paperwork for your latest raise, by the way.” His assistant rarely got overly sentimental. Was she about to start now? Still, he appreciated her words.
Cordelia laughed. “That’s not why I said it, and you know it. Don’t let it get around, but I’d probably work for free. You’ve been very generous through the years, and my family has benefitted greatly from your generosity.”
“You deserve every bit of what I pay you and more. For the moral support if nothing else.”
“Caleb, not that this has anything to do with it, but I’m one of the few people other than your personal accountant who knows you pour the majority of your personal profits from the tobacco sales into the cancer center for Helena.”
“Let’s keep it that way. Ironic, though, isn’t it?” Sitting back in his chair
, Caleb stretched his arms high above his head. “I’m taking sales from cancer-inducing cigarettes and other tobacco products and donating them to a research hospital named after my late wife to prevent cancer and to treat cancer victims. Doesn’t matter what type of cancer, but the principle’s the same. That’s the reason I haven’t pulled the products from sale before now.” He lowered his arms and crossed them over his chest. “That’s a whole lot of funding.”
Cordelia’s expression softened. “Your motives have always been honorable, and I know how many other fundraisers you’ve done for cancer awareness, but I’m curious. Why now, Caleb? What finally prompted you to make this decision?”
He looked at her for a lingering moment. The answer was simple. “I’m finally learning to give it all to God and know He’ll take care of the details. That money was never mine in the first place, Cordelia. I’ll still pour money into the cancer center, but it’ll have to come from another source. My own pocket, if necessary. I’ll figure out something.”
She nodded. “You have other investors for the cancer center, of course, but it’s a good decision, Caleb. God will bless you for it, I have no doubt. Everything will work out. I’m glad you spoke with Eliot on Friday, and I’m relieved you and Lauren have Max. And”—Cordelia’s eyes sparkled as she started to take her leave—“I’m thankful you have Caty. She’s a wonderful young woman.”
“And I’m thankful I have you.” That was an understatement. “Don’t ever leave me.” He pushed up in his chair again. “Okay, now. Enough of this mutual admiration society. Please tell Miles to come in.”
“Of course. I’ll send him right in.” With a parting smile, Cordelia quietly left the room.
“Hey, Mr. Reid. Thanks for agreeing to meet with me, sir. I appreciate it.” Caleb suppressed his smile as the young guy practically bounded into the office. The kid had enthusiasm, he’d give him that much.
“Don’t mention it, Miles. Have a seat and tell me what’s on your mind.” He’d checked the personnel file. Miles was twenty-two, still lived at home, and he was taking business courses at night from one of the local universities. Made good grades and showed promise. Miles had worked for the Houston office for two years. Picking up the Rangers baseball, Caleb began to knead it with his fingers.
“I have some forward-thinking ideas for the corporation. I won’t take much of your time, but I’d like to discuss them with you.” Miles put a plain manila file folder on top of the desk and opened it. “I had to write them down to keep them straight and in some kind of order.”
Caleb’s mind wandered a bit as he listened to his young employee. In some ways, Miles reminded him of himself when he’d started the corporation—full of energy, eager to learn, lots of ideas, some valid and others ready for the garbage pile. This was a vastly different mentality than Steve Robison presented. Steve was old school. He needed fresh ideas like Miles presented. He needed positivity surrounding him, not negativity.
“In closing,” Miles said, recapturing Caleb’s full attention, “I’ll leave this folder with you to look over. If you have any questions, feel free to let me know.”
“I’ll be sure and do that.” Caleb opened the folder and perused it a moment. “I like your ingenuity and loyalty to Belac. I’m glad you came to see me today, Miles…” Wait a second.
“You bet.” As Miles rose to leave, Caleb quickly reread one entry.
“Hold on just a second. Can you tell me more about this entry?” Flipping the folder around on the desk, he pointed to one of the items on the list. “Explain this one to me, please.”
Miles leaned closer. “Oh, yes. I hope you don’t mind, but there are certain people in the company who seem to be using the company interoffice system to send personal gifts. I know I’m not in charge of the mailroom—and I don’t mean to overstep my bounds—but I can tell they’re sort of valuable. If anything got lost, misplaced, or God forbid, stolen, who do you think the first person would be to get the finger of blame for theft?” Miles jabbed a finger at his chest. “Me, that’s who. The low man on the seniority list, and the expendable one.”
“Sit down, Miles.” Caleb softened his tone when he saw the fear in the kid’s eyes. “You’re not in trouble, I assure you.”
“Okay then, sir.” He returned to his chair and fidgeted.
“Are multiple employees sending gifts to one another or would you say it’s mostly the same people?”
“One person, but he’s sent things to some of the women here in the office.”
“Did this start before or after I transferred here to the Houston office?”
“Before.” Miles lowered his gaze. “Although the envelopes came from the Dallas office.”
“I’m going to ask you to give me names, Miles. This information could be significant to me personally as well as the corporation. But this needs to remain between the two of us, and no one else. Do I have your word?”
Miles nodded and raised his right hand as though in a courtroom. “Yes, sir. I understand, and I solemnly swear, so help me God. You have my word.”
Chapter 36
As expected, Oliver arrived at Caty’s townhome on Tuesday evening. She felt silly giving him the password Scrappy, but he’d smiled and offered his arm before escorting her to a waiting black Cadillac Escalade. How many vehicles did Caleb own?
“Do you go by Oliver or do some call you Ollie? What should I call you?” Caty settled back into the plush leather backseat.
“Whatever you wish, Miss Lewis. I go by either name.”
“Hang on just a second, Ollie.” Opening the door, Caty hopped out, closed the door, and then scooted into the front passenger seat. “This is much better.” She blanched. “Unless you’d rather I not sit up here. I guess I should have asked first.” She was being forward, but she hated sitting in the back and being driven by someone paid to do it.
“Not at all.” A wide smile creased the older man’s smile. He was a rather large man, mid-sixties or so, she estimated, with a kind face and a calm demeanor. “It’s my honor to have your company.”
“Call me Caty, please. How long have you worked for Mr. Reid?”
“Ten years. I was originally hired as Mrs. Reid’s driver.”
“I see.” Caty didn’t feel comfortable asking questions about Helena. “I understand you drive Lauren to the academy?” Lauren had mentioned Oliver, calling him Ollie, during their shopping expedition. She knew he’d never married and lived in a guest cottage on the property. One of his hobbies was horticulture, and now he tended to the garden planted by the home’s previous owner.
“That’s right.” He hummed a tune under his breath and darted a glance her way. “Except when Miss Reid was suspended most recently.”
Caty nodded. “Lauren’s a very spirited girl, and I’m sure she keeps her father busy.”
“She’s got a good heart,” Oliver said. “As does Mr. Reid. I’ve enjoyed working for him.”
“How long will it take to reach the house? I have no idea where he lives.”
Oliver smiled. “That must be the grown-up version of are we there yet?”
“You caught me,” Caty admitted. “I’m nervous, Ollie. Going to the man’s home for dinner is a big step. Huge.” She hadn’t even told her parents although she’d told Sam and Marta.
“No reason to be nervous.” Oliver continued to hum as he turned onto the highway.
“Not to interrupt, but what is that tune you’re humming? It sounds familiar.”
“It’s called ‘Younger Than Springtime’ from South Pacific.”
“Aha! That explains it. My mom adores musicals. I think ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ was her favorite song from that movie. Do you know that one?”
“I do, as a matter of fact.” He punched a succession of buttons on the dashboard. The strains of the familiar song began to play, and Oliver began to sing in a quiet, smooth tenor. “…And somehow you know…somewhere you’ll see her again and again.”
Caty smiled. “There’s such a s
weet longing, an innocence, in that song, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “The song speaks to a simpler time, when love is fresh and new.”
Love is fresh and new indeed. The sentiment seemed fitting.
Glancing out the tinted side window as the music continued, Caty snapped mental snapshots of their surroundings. The traffic was moderate, and the surroundings grew increasingly more elite and upscale as they neared their destination.
Twenty minutes after they’d left her townhome, Oliver pulled through black wrought iron gates and parked in a circular driveway in front of a large, stately, three-story red brick home with a three-car garage.
After helping her from the Escalade and escorting her to the front door, Oliver turned to leave. “I’ll be around later to transport you back home.”
“You’re very kind. Thank you.” On a whim, she kissed his cheek.
“Enjoy your evening, Caty.”
“Thanks, Ollie.” Was that a twinkle in the man’s blue eyes?
Lauren answered the door wearing a bright green kimono. That was a surprise. Bowing low, she said something in Japanese before speaking in English. “Good evening. We’ve been expecting you.”
“Are we having Japanese tonight? I dressed for comfort and look more like I’m ready to go out and do some two-stepping.” Caty glanced down at her white eyelet skirt, red cotton blouse, and favorite denim jacket. Knowing Caleb liked her red cowgirl boots, she’d worn them, as well.
“No, I just wanted to see the look on your face,” Lauren said. “I told Dad we should make you eat liver with chopsticks.”
“Very funny. You don’t dislike me that much, do you?” Caty stepped inside the grand foyer and Lauren closed the front door behind her. She tried not to gape in awe at the luxurious home, one of the most elegant she’d ever been inside except for the home tours she’d taken. This was the kind of home that probably had a home theater and a popcorn machine. Maybe a pool in the backyard.
“Nope. I kind of love you.”