Heart's Refuge (Lucky Numbers)

by Cheryl Harper

  “You need to figure out why you’d ask us that.” Rebecca sighed. “She’ll come around.”

  “Sarah doesn’t need to come around. We work together.” Will shook his head. “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten to keep my distance.” Though distance had been the furthest thing from his mind during the kisses. Closer had been his focus.

  “I was talking about Jen,” Rebecca said. “Sarah’s all on you.”

  She and Stephanie shared another meaningful look and Will turned to stare out the side window.

  “How’s business?” Rebecca asked. “Lots of new clients?”

  He nodded firmly. “Next week, I want to talk to you guys about a new investment opportunity, one with solid return-on-investment potential. Now that we’re spending money.”

  “Okay.” Rebecca nodded. “We’re in. And we’ll have a nice check. For you.”

  “Fine,” Will said.

  Stephanie gave Will a thumbs-up and she and Rebecca slid out of the truck. He took a deep breath.

  Kissing Sarah Hillman—in full view of his clients—hadn’t been his best move. He’d made Rebecca, Stephanie and Jen happy and they’d all helped a worthy cause. But right now, Will couldn’t enjoy the day’s successes because panic, of the what-did-I-do variety, was clanging in his brain.

  “Not what did I do?” Will muttered as he backed out of Rebecca’s driveway. “Why did I do it?”

  Chloe rolled her eyes in a flawless impersonation of her aunt. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

  He shot her a look, bumped against a curb and decided he’d better watch where he was going. “Sorry about that.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, it’s weird, but you should see the way Mom and Charles kiss.” Her gag would have been cute if they’d been talking about anything else.

  He’d been so careful not to drag Chloe into one relationship after another. He remembered the awful feeling of being an outsider after every single one of his father’s marriages. “What do you think about Charles and the wedding?”

  Chloe studied him before saying anything. Whatever the answer was, it would be a doozy. “I’m in favor. He’s nice enough and I’ll have a brother or sister soon. I’m ready.” Then she straightened her ponytail. “But he’ll never be the guy who gave me Jelly, Dad. Once you settle down, find yourself a nice girl, everything will be back on track.” Will’s mouth dropped open. He could hear Brenda’s words in his daughter’s voice.

  At least she hadn’t mentioned Sarah. Her reputation in Holly Heights, his job, Jen’s high school resentments—all were solid reasons that the “nice girl” wouldn’t be Sarah. Stopping this attraction before it got too painful to end was the only option.

  As he drove home, Will was afraid that his simple solution was going to take some real work.

  * * *

  PRESSING HER FOREHEAD to the desk was not exactly professional.

  But her relief at having the cool wood against her heated cheeks made it impossible to care.

  Sarah closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence. As soon as Jen left, she’d tell Shelly and Les she needed a break, close the door, turn out the lights and unscramble her brain.

  Then she’d make a to-do list for Monday.

  And in ten seconds, she’d straighten up and go help with Hope.

  But for nine seconds, she was going to remember the most successful meeting ever, the most satisfying rescue and the sweetest kisses in the history of kissing.

  Nine seconds of celebration.

  Two seconds in, her cell rang. She debated declining the call, but then she realized it was the same number her father had used to text. “Daddy, is that you?”

  “Be ready, sweet Sarah. Talk soon.”

  That was it. Nothing more. The phone beeped and the call had ended.

  Sarah put her head back down on the desk and wondered why, after all the emotion of the day, the near-certainty that the hero she’d been waiting for was guilty of stealing money from friends and neighbors only left her numb.

  The crashing realization that she’d never be going back to her old life really deserved a tear.

  But she’d cry tomorrow. At this point, she was all cried out.

  “This is no time for a nap, princess. Les wants to wait on the collar. Says he can cut out the prongs at the same time he spays Hope. That’s five days away.” Jen braced both hands on the desk. “Are you okay with that?”

  The jut of her chin indicated she wasn’t. Jen wanted immediate action.

  Sarah swiped her fingers under her eyelids to wipe away stray mascara and remembered she hadn’t put any on. Facing a worn-out ghost woman didn’t put any hesitation in Jen’s step.

  “I trust Les. He’s got decades of experience.” Sarah scooted back in her ragged chair. “Sorry. I know how you feel.”

  Jen raised an eyebrow. “About Hope? I might believe that.”

  “It’s hard to be patient when animals are hurt. We want to do everything all at once for every animal that comes in the door.” Sarah had started to learn patience. That was going to be a lifetime lesson, though. “Les makes sure we don’t harm them while we try to help them, you know?”

  Jen gripped the arms of her chair and exhaled noisily. “Right. Good.”

  “You could stay, help us get her settled in her new home.” Sarah opened her soon-to-be-organized desk drawer and pulled out the file for adoption paperwork. “And if you’re serious about taking Hope, you could read this. I can’t let you adopt her until the waiting period is over, and you can’t take her until she’s been spayed. But...” Sarah shrugged. “I know you want to do something.”

  “You aren’t going to give me grief?” Jen pinched pleats in her jeans. “You could. I deserve it. A dog was the last thing on my mind before I was tricked into driving over here today.”

  “The same way adopting a cat had to be the loose crumb stuck under the last thing in Will’s brain.” Sarah sighed. “If you’re caught, you’re caught. I don’t know how it works, but these furry babies, they have some magic.” She tilted her head sadly. “For the right people, I guess. Not everyone feels that way.”

  “Some people are wrong. There’s no way around that.” Jen pressed her lips together and stopped there. Why? Not out of consideration for Sarah’s feelings or even polite rules of behavior.

  “I don’t know anything about having a dog,” Jen said. “But I’m about to buy a house. And I’ll take a class or something. There’s no reason not to give her to me.”

  Sarah held up both hands. “Hey, when I tumbled for Bub, I didn’t have that much. No job. No yard.” Her lips were twitching. “You have all the right stuff. Money really can buy happiness sometimes.”

  “But I still have to wait.” Jen’s eyebrows formed an ominous V. “Even with all that money to throw around.”

  Sarah wondered if she was going to have to call in reinforcements. Rules were rules, and the adoption guidelines applied to rich people just the same. “Yes. Every rule is in place to protect the animals. A little time and she’s all yours. That’s it.”

  Then Jen ran a hand through her hair. “Long as I get what I want, I can live with it. There’s a lot to learn about being the rich jerk, you know?”

  Sarah pursed her lips. “Some of us have natural skills, but I see real progress in you. You’ll make it.”

  Jen’s lip curled up. “Insulting so well that the person doesn’t know whether to be mad or gratified. Another rich-guy talent. You could teach classes.”

  “I might need to.” She couldn’t put off finding a real, permanent job anymore.

  Sarah pushed aside her suitcase to reach the small, cramped bookshelf. “Here. This will help.”

  “I’m not much of a reader.” Jen held the book out at arm’s length. “Raising Puppy, The First Year.” As she glanced at Sarah, her doubts were easy to see. “Hope’s not a puppy. And is this book for kids?”

  “Buy another one, then. Since I decided Bub’s mine, I’ve felt a little like you. I never had a dog, but I want to do things
right. And I think unwanted chewing and peeing can last long past the puppy years.” Sarah folded the adoption forms into a neat package. “Hope might have some of the same issues. Anyway, it’s quick, gives you some basics. And I’ll send you home with the food we use, paperwork that tells you about her next shots, any medicine. After that, all you have to do is love her.” Sarah pressed both hands to the desk. “And house-train her. That’s important. Make that pretty high on your priority list.”

  Jen turned the book over and over in her hands. “Okay. I’ll read it.”

  Sarah nodded. “And after the hold is up, we’ll fill out paperwork. And you’ll write me a check.”

  Jen stood slowly. She held up two fingers. “Fine. But first, this doesn’t make us friends. And second, leave my brother alone. He’s got enough to handle right now without adding a needy, rich girlfriend to the mix.”

  Had Jen actually seen the kiss? Or was Sarah’s guilty conscience transmitting a signal?

  “Needy? Okay. I can’t argue with that.” Sarah waved a hand to indicate her clothing. “Rich? Not hardly.” And girlfriend she couldn’t even repeat.

  “Rich is a smell that sticks with you, Horrible Hillman.” Even though Jen had used the old nickname, her tone didn’t have the usual sting. “And a third thing, you can’t live here.”

  She pointed at the suitcase. “I know you need a space, but now that the funds will start again...” Jen shrugged. “You need to come up with a new solution. Surely there’s a legal something or other to rule this out.”

  Rubbing the crease on her forehead didn’t do much to ease her tension, but Sarah would do whatever she could to chase the inevitable wrinkle away. “It will be hard to give up all this luxury and space, but I’ll see what I can do. Bub’s ready to go home.”

  Jen laughed. “Sarcasm. I speak the same language.”

  “I’m not as fluent, but it’s a beautiful dialect.” Neither one of them was happy, but something had changed between her and Jen. Sarah was almost certain that whatever Jen still hated about her, at least now she could see some redeeming qualities.

  That was all anyone could ask for after the world’s longest day.

  “Next week, I’ll figure out the rest. And I’ll definitely be out of here by the open house.” Sarah sighed. “In case there is a legal something or other I don’t know about.”

  “And we wouldn’t want all your friends to see how far you’ve fallen.” The trace of sympathy was gone from Jen’s face.

  “Oh, don’t worry. They know. You don’t have to spread the word. I’ve already begged for every favor I could. They’re about as fond of the Hillman name as you are.” Sarah studied the hole in her knit shirt to avoid Jen’s stare.

  “Except they enjoyed the connection while they could.” Jen tsked. “Then ignored you when you needed help. You were awful, don’t get me wrong, but being dropped by hypocrites who’d fawn all over you while you were buying drinks is no fair. Not even for you.”

  Sarah tightened her lips. There wasn’t much to say to that. Defending them would make her seem out of touch. Weak. And agreeing... Well, she might still seem out of touch and weak but for a slightly different reason.

  In the beginning, she honestly hadn’t understood the rejections. Now she got it.

  “This time around, I’m going to make a better class of friend. Even if they can’t write me a big check, they can help me when I need some support. That’s the kind of friend I want.” The sting of tears for the horrifying millionth time that day was too much.

  Jen nodded, although her eyebrows were a disapproving line. “Absolutely. Of course you do.” She didn’t say, “Duh, you idiot,” but it was close enough that Sarah had to chuckle.

  “Go see Hope. And know that if you come back tomorrow, you’ll be scooping poop. It’s inevitable.” A sudden bolt of inspiration had Sarah straightening in her chair. “Bring in some volunteers, students who need...volunteer hours or extra credit or college recommendation letters or...something, but if we have more volunteers, everyone’s job gets easier. More time to cuddle Hope, see?”

  Jen grunted. “School hasn’t started yet, genius.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “My last summer-school class is this week.” Then the frown disappeared. “But I see where you’re going with this. Clever.” She shrugged. “And I’ll be back to do whatever I can. Make sure we get an invitation to the open house. You’ve never seen anyone work a room of donors like Rebecca and Stephanie. Seriously. In the middle of a glitzy ballroom, I watched the head of Austin’s biggest tech firm empty all the change out of his fancy suit pockets because he was concerned the four-zeros check he wrote for HealthyAmericas wasn’t big enough.” Jen shook her head at that and left Sarah’s office.

  After that, Sarah didn’t care who was still here, who needed her, what crisis was coming. As soon as she found Bub, she led him back to the office and closed the door. Sarah sat with her sixty-pound dog sprawled across her lap, shut her eyes and pressed her nose into his neck.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  HALF AN HOUR late and rattled over the changes his new cat had made to the morning routine, Will struggled to find the right words to apologize for the delay. Sarah was outside the office in her usual spot, and the effects of the emotional Saturday had been erased by cool clothes, a smooth updo and bright red lipstick.

  Sarah did not look like a person who’d spent entirely too much time thinking about a kiss that should never have been.

  Since she’d started the whole thing, that seemed unfair.

  After he’d unlocked the door and held it open for Chloe to march through, Sarah said, “Let me take this...castle?”

  But he was too slow to stop her from struggling to fit the monstrosity through the doorway. Will shook his head. “I should have handed you the cat instead.”

  “I can’t believe you brought Jelly in after your look of horror when I invaded with Bub.” Sarah dumped the castle on the lobby rug and reached to take Jelly’s carrier.

  “You should have warned me I’d completely lose my mind if I adopted a cat. Chloe was worried about leaving her home alone and that made me worry, so we’re going to give this a try.” Will motioned at Jelly’s carrier on the empty receptionist’s desk. “As much as I’ve already invested in the finest food and toys, I’m afraid someone will break in to steal my luxury cat.”

  Chloe was already clicking away on the keyboard, so he pulled his cell phone out and slid it across to her. “Sarah needs to work, Chloe.”

  His daughter studied his phone, and for half a second it looked as if she was going to make some comment about how all teenagers deserved their own phones, especially if they didn’t have tablets.

  She’d come up with that one on Sunday evening. After he’d explained that just-turned-twelve was not a teenager and that saying something dramatically didn’t make it true, she’d resumed brushing Jelly.

  He was still convinced that wasn’t the end of the conversation.

  “I’m going to check on Brenda,” Chloe said. “See what the tip jar looks like.”

  Will nodded and held the door open for her, then watched her skip down the sidewalk to the diner. “Guess I’ll have to add ‘must like cats’ to my help-wanted ad.”

  But Sarah was already gone. He could hear the unmistakable and welcome sounds of coffee being made.

  Get to work, Barnes. Burning daylight here.

  Sarah didn’t say two words to him as she bustled into his office to slide a cup across his desk and walked right back out. Jelly? Oh, Jelly had gotten quite a cheerful one-sided conversation before she’d drifted into his office and hopped up on his desk.

  He knew because he was listening intently, hoping to be prepared for...whatever conversation Sarah might want to have.

  Listening had turned to brooding, one hand scratching his cat behind the ears while he studied his inbox. “Lots to do today, Jelly.” And he needed both hands to do it. Will shifted the cat castle closer to his desk and set Jelly inside the highest tu
rret.

  Head in the game.

  Two clients wanted to increase their retirement investments, three of the doctors he’d met last week had asked for one-on-one consultations and Doug Grant was ready to discuss the boilerplate contract.

  Apparently, Cece had dropped her demands or her husband was prepared to move forward, anyway.

  Business was picking up.

  And the résumés were coming in. He had four from the newspaper ads and the employment agency had emailed two promising candidates.

  The days of carefully navigating his relationship with Sarah were coming to a close.

  At least, here in his office.

  “And that’s a good thing.” Jelly’s gentle meow made it seem as if she agreed. “Although we’ll still have to weed out the non-cat lovers.”

  Otherwise, his next secretary would quit because he talked to Jelly as if she would answer back.

  Only animal people would get that.

  “It would be nice if every animal hater came with a warning.” Sarah leaned against the door frame.

  Will sipped his coffee. “Well, some people would be mistaken about not liking pets. They just haven’t found the right one to fall in love with yet.” Love. Had he lost every single brain cell over the weekend? “I bet you’d like some money.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say no, that’s for sure.” Sarah sat down across from him. “I’ve already scheduled the fence guy and the roofing company. Both are certain they’ll finish before the open house.”

  Will nodded as he opened the locked drawer where he was storing the check signed by Rebecca.

  “Should I have waited until after the open house?” Sarah shifted in her seat. “People might understand how much help the shelter needs with the leaky roof and falling-down fence.”

  Will tapped his finger on the check.

  “Seems like...” He weighed the options. “Having donors already on board—people who are committed to the continued success of Paws for Love—will make it easier to find more donations.” He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never been the charitable sort. With my money, for sure.”