Winner Takes All

by Judy Kentrus

  “Do you know if the organization ever experienced money problems in the past?”

  “If it did, I’m sure my brother would have mentioned it to me.”

  Preston scrolled through a few more spreadsheets and stopped. “What is this numbered account? 4-15-12-16-8-9-14.”

  Cindi had just bitten into a cookie and chewed quickly. “Every year we receive a stipend from a secret benefactor. A number of kids live in foster care and wouldn’t be able to participate without this person’s donation. The money covers the cost of their cars, transportation to the event—basically all of their expenses.”

  “So you don’t know the identity of this person?”

  “Don’t have a clue. I do know it isn’t Lincoln.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out about your mysterious philanthropist. Who can sign off on expenditures?”

  “Two signatures are required on all checks—the president of the board and the treasurer who just resigned. And now me.”

  He momentarily glanced away from the figures, and his eyes were drawn to a pair of beautiful slender legs. She’d crossed her knees and the edge of her skirt had ridden up, exposing shapely thighs. How would they feel wreathed around his hips? Stop torturing yourself, he told himself and forced his attention back to the problem at hand. “As part of my investigation, I’ll need to look into the financial status of all the board members.”

  “I was afraid you were going to say that. I’ve got nothing to hide and neither does my brother, but I am very uncomfortable invading the other members’ privacy. Let’s see what you can uncover going over the accounts.”

  “It’s against procedure, but we’ll try it your way, for now.”

  The silence lingered in the office, and Cindi savored this time with Preston, appreciating how his green eyes, shielded by his nerdy glasses, seem to absorb the figures on the spreadsheets. Every once in a while, he would make a note on the yellow pad on his desk and then return to the accounts. The growl from her stomach broke the silence. “Pardon me,” she said, clamping an arm about her waist. “I never did get to eat dinner.”

  Preston shifted away from the wall screen and gave her a small smile of understanding. “Me either. I finished the Morgan investigation. The insurance company is going to love us when then don’t have to pay out all that money. I’ll work on your project tomorrow after I get back from Manhattan.” He looked at his watch. “It’s after ten, and I have to be back here at seven to meet the company helicopter.”

  “I forgot that you are helping the boss interview applicants for your counterpart in the Manhattan office. I know Lincoln will be flying with you, but please don’t mention this situation. Let’s see if we can find out what happened to the money first.”

  Preston arched a brow at her request. One did not hold back from their boss. He copied the files to his laptop and passed the drive back to Cindi.

  “Thanks” she said and returned it to her pocket. “How can I repay you for helping?”

  Sometimes luck just fell into one’s lap, like now. He raised his eyes to the ceiling and offered a silent thank-you. He’d debated approaching Cindi to help him with a problem he was facing later in the week. He needed a date, and she would understand things wouldn’t go any further than a friendly evening. “Have dinner with me.”

  Cindi never expected him to ask her out, not after the other night. “I’d love to. What night did you have in mind?” she quickly asked. Pushy, pushy, slow down girl. Other than her volunteering obligations, her calendar was wide open.

  He’d heard the eagerness in her voice, and tried to let her down gently. “I’d better explain. My sister Jennifer is coming to Laurel Heights to interview for the directorship of the new community center. It won’t be up and running until next year, but they are already looking for staff. I’d like you to join us for dinner.”

  Her fluttering heart slowed from disappointment. She should have known the invitation was too good to be true. “When was the last time you saw your sister?”

  “A year ago, when I went home to visit my parents in Oregon for their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. Jennifer has her own place a few minutes from them.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather meet with her alone?”

  “Not really.” He picked up the pen and started to write a nonsensical formula on the yellow pad. Stop stalling. Tell her the real reason you are inviting her to dinner. “I better explain. My parents and sister are worried that I am no longer interested in women. Jennifer actually came out and asked if I was gay.” Now came the hard part. “I’d like to introduce you as my girlfriend and give her the impression we are lovers.”

  His words exploded in her brain. Girlfriend! Lover! Is he out of his mind! Cindi tugged on the hem of her dress and hopped off the desk, unaware of the nearby garbage can. The heel of her right shoe penetrated the top of a Styrofoam container that contained a half-eaten egg salad sandwich.

  She put a hand to the side of the desk to steady herself and screwed up her face at her klutzy blunder. When she lifted her foot out of the can, the container was still attached to her heel. “Oh, yuck!”

  Preston knew enough not to laugh. “Let me help you.” He grasped the back of her bare leg to give her support, but his fingers encountered lovely, soft skin. The silky, smooth surface had to be the result of body lotion. Of their own free will, his fingertips slowly caressed the length of her calf and slipped off her white toeless shoe.

  Cindi melted the moment he touched the back of her knee, and she forced herself to remain still when his fingers brushed her skin with warm heat. Her entire leg tingled, and spread throughout the rest of her body, from his enticing touch. She could always claim sexual harassment, but she enjoyed it too much.

  He purposely turned his back, not wanting her to see his obvious arousal. “Sorry about that,” he said, and used his own white handkerchief to clean off her shoe. “I mean the mess in the can,” he quickly added and passed her the now clean shoe. He didn’t dare pull a glass slipper move. Touching her once was all he could handle.

  I’m not, she silently noted as her heartbeat returned to normal. “I’m a klutz. Now, what were you saying about giving your sister the impression we are lovers?” Cindi surprised herself by not getting tongue tied over the word “lover.”

  “There isn’t any other woman I could trust to pull this off. You are a good friend and won’t get the wrong idea if I start putting the moves on you in public. I just want to be up-front.”

  His common sense explanation threw a bucket of ice water on her happiness. She jammed her hands on her hips at the insult. “So I’m just a good ole boy—I mean, girl—you need to pass off as your lover just to prove you aren’t into guys!”

  “I didn’t mean it quite that way. You are a beautiful, warm, sensitive woman any man would be lucky to call his girlfriend or lover.” I would make love to you in a heartbeat, but it’s impossible, he silently added.

  Now she was getting angry. “Just so I understand your deceitful, half-ass invitation. If you get touchy-feely and plant a few kisses during dinner, I should react like it’s perfectly normal since we’re lovers. It would all be for show.”

  “Absolutely.” God forgive me for lying.

  Cindi tipped her head to the side and decided to toss out a challenge. “You know, it works both ways. I might want to take a few liberties, you know, to make our relationship more convincing. Like you said, it would all be for show.”

  “No problem. I’ll do my part.” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, he thought, but it was too late now to take back his invitation.

  “Have you considered what might happen if your sister gets the job and comes to live in Laurel Heights?”

  “I’ll worry about that when and if it happens. We can always say things didn’t work out.”

  Not if I can help it. Momma didn’t raise a dummy. She needed to give this situation a little more thought, but held out a hand. “We have a deal. You clean up my financial mess and I’ll pretend to b
e your lover.”

  Preston wondered at the designing gleam in her eyes, but then decided it was just his imagination. He could trust sweet, sensible Cindi Pearl.

  Cindi walked into the back door of the Spoonful Café at seven the following morning. Sleep had been sporadic. The times she did sink into slumber, her dreams were filled with a deliciously naked Preston romping between the paved lanes of a racetrack, holding up a sign that read “Catch me if you can.”

  The smell of frying bacon permeated the kitchen of the restaurant, which was already hopping since it was the only place open in Laurel Heights serving a down-home breakfast. The sleepy community in the Laurel Highlands of Pennsylvania was currently experiencing a growth spurt. Thanks to Lincoln Adams, a fully equipped community center was under construction. Sam Morlock owned and oversaw the conversion of two old brick warehouses into spacious condos. His family heritage was in railroading, so he rehabbed the adjacent train station and leased the space to specialty shops. A fourth building was being converted into a train museum. The town was also buzzing with workers putting in natural gas wells on numerous farm properties owned by the town and Lincoln Adams. Previously vacant stores on Main Street had drawn a variety of new retailers.

  “You got home late. Was he hot?” asked Samantha Kingsley, Cindi’s best friend. Sam plated a Mexican omelet, grilled tomatoes, home fries and bacon and set the oval dish on the shelf next to her workstation and tapped the pickup bell.

  He is. “No such luck.” Cindi gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from Samantha. Sam was also another newbie to Laurel Heights and had purchased the farmhouse where Cindi lived. A white butcher’s apron camouflaged the body of a tall, svelte woman who could pass for a runway model. She’d plaited her champagne-blond hair into a long braid and wrapped her head with a scarf in jewel tones. Until recently, she’d worked for Adams Security. After ten years as an undercover agent, Sam had resigned to fulfill her dream. Tea in Time, a Victorian-themed tea shop and small bakery, would open in a few months.

  Cindi accepted a warm carrot-raisin muffin from Samantha, already slathered with honey butter. “I fed the critters. Brownie, Pound Cake’s calf, is really thriving. I’m concerned about my pygmy goat. Donut is very attached to the ducks. When Cupcake and Muffin go for a swim in the pond, he jumps in after them. I think of them as the three amigos.”

  “I love it that our menagerie gets along.” Sam grabbed another order sheet from the clips and cracked two eggs on the grill. “So, what had you working late?”

  “Soap box derby stuff.”

  Samantha didn’t need a crystal ball to sense there was something off with her friend, who was normally upbeat and full of life. Unfortunately, Cindi Pearl was always in hurry and had a tendency to walk into things. “Do I need a crowbar to pry it out of you? We’ve known each other for ten years, and you’ve got trouble written all over your face.” Sam raised a dark blond brow. “You’re not even wearing something purple.”

  Lifting the weight of this problem off her shoulders would help, and Sam could be trusted. “This is between us. It’s about—” Cindi stopped when the kitchen door opened. Sallie Mae Whipper, owner of the Spoonful Café, walked in, carrying a round tray of dirty dishes. She was in her usual black-and-white check pants and pristine white blouse. The ties on her scalloped red apron barely reached around her full form to create a neat bow. White swirls blended with her corkscrew black hair. Her chocolate-brown skin glowed with vitality, but she admitted her bones were getting tired.

  “It’s so busy out there, you would think we are giving the food away. Morn’n, Cindi Pearl,” Sallie Mae greeted her, setting the tray on the stainless steel shelf next to the commercial dishwasher. “My, you look pretty in pink. Lose your way to Lincoln’s new building?”

  Cindi accepted the warm hug. “Just wanted to check in with Sam.”

  “I hear Preston Reynolds’s sister is interviewing for the directorship of the community center.”

  “You know about Jennifer already? I only found out last night.” If anyone knew what was going on in Laurel Heights, it was Sallie Mae. She was also known as the keeper of secrets.

  “Lincoln asked me to sit on the board for the new community center, so I’m fully aware of the candidates. I’d better get out there and spell my servers. Don’t want to miss any gossip.” Sallie grinned.

  Three waitresses hurried in and attached their slips to the clips before picking up their food orders. Cindi’s chance to have a private talk with Samantha wasn’t about to happen. “I’ll talk to you this evening.”

  She barely had time to think when she got to work. Lincoln had intended to gradually build up their security installation and design division in the rural area, but they had more business than they could handle due to his stellar reputation in the industry. She was disappointed there wasn’t a note or e-mail from Preston. He’d never told her what evening his sister would be in town.

  She was just about to leave the office for the day when Lincoln sent a priority e-mail listing what to expect in his absence and video meetings he would be conducting the next two days with their offices in Chicago and Los Angeles. She shook her head and laughed. It was the same information she’d sent him that morning. Ever since he’d found out Jessie was going to have a baby, he’d taken on the persona of a very nervous expectant father.

  After dinner, Cindi relaxed in one of the rocking chairs on the side porch with her iPad in her lap. The midsummer sky was filled with thousands of stars, and the sweet scent from the French lilacs that framed the roofline perfumed the air. A slight breeze ruffled the tall cornstalks in the neighboring fields, and the humid heat clung to her skin. She liked the sound that the crickets made when they rubbed their back legs together.

  Her heart beat a little faster when she read the e-mail from Preston. Cindi, due to follow-up interviews, I’ll be in the New York office another two days. Jennie’s meeting with the board of directors is on Friday afternoon and dinner will be Friday evening. Please make a seven o’clock reservation at the Laurel Bistro. Thank you, Preston. “Wow, you are going all out.” New owners had purchased the double storefront and turned it into a popular five-star restaurant. The married couple adhered to the town’s strict guidelines to keep the antique integrity on the interior. The down-home citizens had suffered culture shock from the pricey fare, but rumor had it the cuisine was outstanding. Getting a reservation was going to be a challenge.

  Samantha nudged the screen door open with her hip and set a small tray on the table between the rockers. “I thought you might like a glass of sweet tea. Chores are done and critters are down for the night. While you are telling me what’s bothering you, try out those mini scones. It’s a new recipe. I’ve laced them with cinnamon bits, apples and cranberries.”

  Cindi had just placed her iPad on the table when a firefly landed on the back of her hand. “Hi there,” she laughed, watching his yellow flashing glow. “When I was a little girl, my brother and I would collect lightning bugs and put them in a jar. My dad punched holes in the lids so they could breathe. We left them in the jar when we went to bed. In the morning, the bugs were gone and we always believed lightning bugs had magic powers. It wasn’t until we were a little older that my mother admitted to setting them free.”

  “I love hearing about your childhood, but you’re stalling.”

  Cindi reached for a scone and placed it on a lacy white napkin. “All right, here it is. I took over the books for our local soap box derby chapter, and there is a hundred and fifty thousand dollars missing. Preston asked me out to dinner with his sister, but wants me to pretend to be his lover because his parents and sister think he’s gay.”

  Samantha’s mouth dropped. “Oh shit!”

  Chapter 3

  “How do you get into these things? That is a lot of missing money. Stealing from kids is just plain evil. As for Preston’s dinner invitation, who does he think he is, using you that way?”

  Cindi bit into the scone and shrugged a shoulder.
“We have an agreement. He helps me with my money problem, and I go to dinner with him, pretending to be his lover.” She took another bite, chewed slowly and nodded. “These are a winner. I like the sugar coating on the outside. You don’t even need clotted cream.”

  “So noted. I’m glad you like them. As for your problem, it’s a bullshit agreement. You are deceiving his sister, and it’s a personal insult to you.” Sam grabbed her braid and twirled around the paintbrush end like a feather boa. Merriment filled her eyes. “It would serve him right if you showed up doing your ditzy blonde impersonation.”

  Cindi’s eyes widened at the horrible suggestion. “I couldn’t do that. Suppose he gets pissed and changes his mind about helping me? I could be arrested for embezzlement. On top of that, his sister might think I’m a real dingbat.”

  “You would definitely shake up his boring self, but I don’t think he’d go back on his word. He’s too stiff and honorable.” Samantha studied the indecision on Cindi’s face. “What else haven’t you told me? Better yet, how do you really feel about Preston Reynolds?”

  Donut, Cupcake and Muffin chose that moment to escape the barn and join the party on the porch. The ducks quacked twice and circled Samantha’s chair before settling at her feet. Donut hopped up on Cindi’s lap and nuzzled his way into her arms.

  “Party crashers,” Cindi laughed softly and hugged him closer, nuzzling his black-and-white furry neck. “I love Preston, but he doesn’t love himself. He’s personable and friendly to everyone, but inside, I sense he’s given up and retreats from the world he knew before he got hurt. I want to shake him and make him realize it’s not the end. He is alive and life is worth living.”

  “I’m sorry I missed the fiasco the other night. You had already left the party when I arrived. The room was abuzz with you and Preston.”