“Not at all. A lot of people use them illegally, because it’s relatively easy to do. But they’re not only completely legal, they’re a financially smart decision. Especially for someone like me who invests internationally. You just have to report any earnings over ten thousand on your taxes.”
“Do you do all your own taxes?”
“Yes.” He did everything on his own, for the most part. He didn’t like giving others the chance to make a mistake for which he’d be held accountable. “I meet with an accountant before I submit them, though,” he added, “because the laws change every year.”
Such a bizarre conversation. In a lot of ways, more intimate to him than sex.
And he’d started it.
“I’m sitting at the pool having a beer.” He felt bad about that, considering his baby girl had sent Tamara running to work. “I wish you were here, enjoying it with me.”
“I don’t like beer.”
“I have wine.” It wasn’t quite an invitation—he wouldn’t do that to her, since there were no guarantees he could avoid a replay of this afternoon—but he had to open the door.
“Will it keep a few days?”
“Absolutely.”
He asked her if she was free for lunch early in the week. They settled on Tuesday and Flint was grinning as he hung up the phone.
Chapter Fourteen
Sunday was about as bad a day as she’d had in a while. First with the aborted visit at Flint’s in the afternoon and then with the confirmation that he not only had an offshore account but that he did his own taxes. Things that someone with something to hide might do.
Neither fact made him a thief. But the circumstantial evidence pointing in his direction, along with a lack of anything pointing in anyone else’s, was certainly enough to lead her father to that conclusion.
Over the next week and a half, she worked like a fiend as an efficiency expert, finding several ways her father’s company could save money. She also searched for any discrepancy that could place doubt or lay suspicion on anyone other than Flint. She found a few. She always did. But nothing that wasn’t easily explainable or a product of human error or laziness. Someone cutting corners, but not for nefarious reasons.
She lunched with Flint twice that week. Spoke on the phone with him several times. Getting to know the boy he’d been, who’d grown to become the man he was. Sharing more of herself than she had in a long while. She talked about how—although she now loved her job—when she’d been younger, she’d really wanted to be a stay-at-home wife and mother. Old-fashioned though that might be, she’d thought that, having grown up with a wonderfully successful career mother and an equally successful businessman father, the ideal would be a home with someone always there. Protecting everything they all worked for. She wanted to add the personal touches to her own home that her parents’ place had gained at the hands of hired help. But then, she worked a job that could largely be done from home, if she wanted it to be, so maybe that’s why staying home seemed doable. All of the records scouring, the line by line accounts she studied, she could do that while the baby slept...
And she told him about her job, too. How she’d entered the efficiency field due to years of learning to live a focused life. How the career fit her, fulfilled her. How great she felt when she found bottom-line savings for her clients.
He’d asked, once, if she’d ever thought about trying one more time to have a family of her own. Her answer had been an unequivocal no.
She didn’t see that changing.
Her heart had closed up at his question.
As the days passed, her father was getting more worried. He’d talked about calling Flint in, confronting him. But he knew that could be professional suicide. If the meeting backfired and Flint set out to prove he was innocent before Howard could prove he wasn’t, any actions her father might take would expose the fraud at Owens.
He’d risk having everyone in the company finding out they had a thief among them. He’d not only tip the thief’s hand, but he’d jeopardize the company’s overall security. Once word reached the investment world that Owens had an unsolved fraudulent situation in-house, it could be the end of everything her father had spent a lifetime working toward.
Howard needed the matter solved quietly. And quickly.
Tamara went to Flint’s for dinner the following Saturday night, more intent than ever on learning whatever she could to help her father. But she got so distracted worrying about the baby waking up—and then, when she did, Tamara made herself sit out by the pool for the twenty minutes it took Flint to change and feed her—that she was of little use to Owens Investments that night.
Flint had been pleased for her, though, saying she’d done well, staying put instead of running out. She’d wanted so badly to be in there with him. Changing that baby. Watching him feed her.
And that unexpected desire had scared her to death.
She’d warmed under his emotionally intimate look.
And run out. Sort of. She’d had one more glass of wine—her second—and left before anything truly intimate could happen between them.
She dreamed about him that night. It was a change from her usual dreams about crowds of people holding babies, with only her arms empty. Or the vacant house she’d walk into to find every room a nursery that had been abandoned. Or the one where she’d gotten to hold Ryan for a few minutes and then he’d had to leave.
Dreaming about Flint was a welcome reprieve. And yet a problem, too.
One she figured she knew how to solve.
Calling Mallory Harris, she arranged to meet her friend for dinner the Monday night before Thanksgiving. They had a favorite spot not far from the Bouncing Ball—one that Mallory’s ex-husband, who owned and worked in the office complex that housed the Bouncing Ball, didn’t like. The food was all organic and salad-based. According to Mallory, Braden preferred full plates of food that stuck to his ribs.
Tamara had never met him. She was part of the life Mallory didn’t share with her ex-husband.
“What’s up?” Mallory asked as soon as they had glasses of Chardonnay in front of them.
“It’s been a while since we hung out and—”
Mallory was shaking her head. With her dark hair trimmed to fall stylishly around her face and over her shoulders, Mallory was softly beautiful, even in clothes as plain as the Bouncing Ball jacket and jeans she’d worn to work that day. “I could tell when you called that something was up. Now, out with it. Did you run into Steve?”
“No.” Mallory knew about Howard Owens’s suspicions regarding Flint. Tamara had told her when she’d asked her friend to take on Diamond Rose. But there was so much more her friend didn’t know, that she needed to know.
Mallory was just right for Flint. And he was right for her, too. Tamara really needed them to get together.
She’d almost kissed him the other night. Had been thinking about him sexually more and more over the past several days.
In spite of the baby who was part of his life.
He was making it too easy for her to be involved with him. The way he’d taken on full responsibility for Diamond impressed her. Plus the fact that he expected nothing from Tamara but distance where the baby was concerned.
She was getting in too deep. And, because of her father, she couldn’t get out. Or not yet, anyway.
She was even starting to think she might not want to get out at all. Which wasn’t fair to anyone. That baby girl of his deserved—and needed—a full-time mother. Not one who stayed in other parts of the house or in doorways when Diamond was around.
She had to admit that Flint hadn’t, in any way, intimated that he saw Tamara as anything more than a friend. Perhaps one with momentary fringe benefits.
He wanted her, too.
That was part of her problem. He was going to be asking. She’d managed to put him off without ac
tually saying anything so far, but things were escalating between them. At some point he’d ask.
She didn’t trust herself to say no.
Unless she thought her friend wanted him...
“It’s Flint,” she said. “He’s such a great guy and I’m worried about him,” she said, looking straight into Mallory’s pretty blue eyes. “He’s in that big house all alone, keeping up an eighteen-hour-a-day workload, being mother and father to that baby girl and—”
“You’ve been to his house?”
Yeah, she’d forgotten she hadn’t mentioned that.
She nodded, but continued. “His girlfriend ditched him when he refused to give Diamond Rose up for adoption.”
“Why were you at his house?”
Was Mallory jealous? That would be a good thing, right?
“I just... My father told me he’s not going to press charges if it turns out that Flint’s the one who’s been stealing from him. And while I’m not excusing theft or fraud, I’ve seen another side to the man and—”
“When were you at his house?”
“I think you should ask him out, Mal.”
Mallory sat back. “Me? Why? I thought you were going to tell me you were falling for him.”
“He’s got a baby.”
“Yeah.”
“You think I’m kidding about not going down that road again?” Tamara quipped.
“I think sometimes love is stronger than the things we believe.”
“I can’t even be in the same room with her for more than a few minutes without getting a cramped feeling.”
“Exactly how many times have you been at his house?” Malory asked.
“You need to go out with him, Mal. You’ll see what I mean. He’s perfect for you.”
“You really want me to ask him out?”
“I really do.”
Mallory nodded. “He and I—we’ve talked some.”
“And he’s gorgeous.”
Neither one of them was the type who fell for looks first, but looks didn’t hurt.
“But I can’t seem to draw him into any kind of conversation beyond caring for his daughter,” Mallory said.
Sister. Technically, she was his sister.
Who’d grow up as his daughter.
And she assumed he’d told Mallory that. Probably had to present guardianship papers. None of which changed the fact that, for practical purposes, Flint was Diamond’s father.
“He mentioned that he’s planning to attend your Thanksgiving dinner at the Bouncing Ball. Said he’s always gone out for dinner on Thanksgiving, usually invited clients, but with the baby... He doesn’t want Diamond Rose to spend any holidays without family.”
Tamara would be at her parents’. She’d told him that when he’d invited her to accompany him to Mallory’s dinner—since she and Mallory were friends and all.
Things were just getting too complicated. She couldn’t not go to her parents. And she absolutely could not take Flint there with her, Diamond Rose aside, even if she wanted to.
“You’re thirty-three, Mal. You want a family of your own. And there’s no reason you can’t have ten children if you want them. But you need to get started.”
“You seriously want me to ask him out?” Mallory asked again.
“At least try to spend some time with him at dinner on Thanksgiving. Ask him to help. He’s a great cook.”
“He’s cooked for you?”
Tamara ignored that. “I think the two of you are perfect for each other.”
“Seriously?” Mallory repeated, leaning forward, looking her in the eye.
“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. This was the right thing to do. “Unless... I mean, depending on... My dad is still afraid that he’s the one who stole from him.”
“What do you think?”
Shrugging, Tamara took a sip of her wine. “The whole way he is with the baby and all, which has nothing to do with this, but... I don’t see it,” she said. “At the same time, there’s absolutely nothing popping up on anyone else.”
“So what do you do now? Hire a detective?”
“I tried to get my dad to do that. He’s adamantly against bringing in anyone else. The thief, whoever it is, hasn’t done anything in over a month. Dad had some special notification put on one of his passwords, and the second anyone signs in as him, he’ll know. But he’s hoping it doesn’t come to that.”
“How much longer are you going to be at the company?”
“I’m about done there.” Which was another reason she had to get Flint and Mallory together.
“So you won’t be seeing Flint anymore.”
“I don’t see him much at the office anyway. We’re on different floors.”
“Do you see him outside the office?”
“Only as a kind of informant,” she said, confessing what bothered her the most. “I ask him questions about the business, in my efficiency expert role.”
“But he thinks it’s more than that.”
“Just friends.” Tamara sat back and drank some of her wine. Thought maybe they should look at their menus so their waitress would realize they’d be ready to order soon. They’d sent her off the first time she’d asked. “I swear. Nothing’s happened between us. I’m not kidding. I’ve been thinking all along that you and he belong together. You’d love him if you got to know him. And you already love his little girl.”
Which Tamara could never do.
Even if she wanted to try, she knew she’d go into emotional shutdown.
“You’re falling for him.”
“I am not! How could I? I only met him a few weeks ago.”
“I knew I was in love with Braden the first night I met him.”
A love that had been blown apart, for both of them, by the death of their five-month-old son. They’d been divorced for three years and had found a way to build a good, solid friendship between them.
“And now it’s time for you to find someone else to love,” Tamara said. “To share your life with.”
“Maybe the one it’s time for is you.”
Mallory just wasn’t getting it. “Are you not listening to me?”
“Actually I think that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“You want me to open myself to possible feelings for a man who might be stealing from my father? And who has a newborn?” How could Mallory suggest such a thing?
“I want you to be honest with yourself.” Mallory’s words fell gently between them.
“I am,” she insisted. “It’s not like I can bring him home to dinner with the folks, Mal. And even if I could, I can’t take on his baby. He already had a woman leave him because of Diamond Rose and he just doesn’t deserve another kick in the teeth.”
She started to tear up, took a deep breath and then said, “His whole life, Flint has done nothing but try, and give, and work hard. And his whole life, people have done nothing but desert him. It’s not even like he lets that get to him. He’s the least victimized person I’ve ever met. He’d doesn’t get bitter. Or lay blame. He just picks up the pieces and keeps trying. Giving one hundred percent to whatever he does.”
“It sounds to me like you know him pretty well.”
“I’ve been...investigating him.” At work. At lunch. In his home. On the phone. She’d spent more time with him than any other person since she’d been home.
“Really? Is that all?”
It had to be all.
For so many reasons.
But there was one that could convince Mallory...
“How do you suppose he’s going to feel when he finds out that I’m Howard Owens’s daughter? And that I’ve been spying on him because my father, his one-time mentor and current boss, thinks he’s a thief?”
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
“I’ve never even kissed the man!”
“You want to.”
“I imagine half the women he meets want to.”
“Maybe two-thirds.” Mallory smiled. And then immediately sobered.
“I wish I knew what to tell you, Tamara. I just know that you don’t get to choose love. It chooses you.”
“It chose you and you’re alone.”
Tamara realized how cruel that sounded but Mallory didn’t seem offended.
“I am,” Mallory said. “Because human beings are fallible. Love gave Braden and me a chance. We failed it. But you’re right. More than anything, I want to be married again, to have a family. And yes, I’m thirty-three. If I’m going to have a houseful of kids, I have to get moving on that. And here I sit. You know why? Because I can’t choose to fall in love. I have to keep my heart open and wait for it to find me.”
“You could go out more.”
“I’ve been dating.”
“Ask Flint out. Like I said, maybe love will choose the two of you.”
If it was half as powerful as Mallory believed, it would choose her and Flint. It should! The match was obvious.
“I’m not doing anything with Flint Collins with you feeling the way you do about him.”
“I don’t feel any way about him except for horrible. I’m deceiving him, and he’s such a great guy.”
“Aside from possibly stealing from your father.”
“Aside from that,” she said. In spite of the number of times she kept reminding herself of the facts, such as they were, she just couldn’t believe Flint was a thief.
Not considering everything he’d told her. Everything she’d seen in him over the past few weeks.
And as far as Stella went, Flint had seemed fully over her a week after they’d parted. He’d chosen Diamond Rose rather than her without looking back.
He’d changed his entire life for that baby. Because that was the kind of man he was.
And because it had been his mother’s dying wish.
Because the baby was his only flesh and blood.
But what about before that? Maybe the Flint she’d gotten to know over the past weeks wasn’t the man he’d been a month ago.
An Unexpected Christmas Baby Page 13