by M. Ullrich
“I hate running.” Imogene sat back with a look of concentration on her face. “The last time I ran was over the summer when it started to rain on my way back from the deli three blocks away after picking up lunch. It was the worst.” An adorable cringe overtook her features. She looked again at Catherine and smiled.
Not really knowing where to take the conversation and not daring to acknowledge just how charming Imogene was, Catherine returned their attention to the business at hand. “I have to ask, why the name Cowboy Fran’s?”
“I named it in memory of my dad. He was born and raised in Texas, overflowing with Houston pride. He was all about the Cowboys, the Longhorns, and the Alamo. He’d bring home a bouquet of bluebonnets for my mom every holiday, even after we moved.”
“Bluebonnets?” Catherine asked. She wondered how she had never noticed Imogene’s slight Southern accent before.
“The Texas state flower. Anyway, I wanted to name it after him, but I knew very few women would shop at a clothing boutique called Frank’s, so I took his birth name, Francis, cut it down and added a nickname some knew him by. Cowboy Fran’s was born on the spot.”
“It definitely adds intrigue.” Catherine smiled at her, happy to receive one back, the dimple in Imogene’s right cheek fascinating her.
“So where do we start?” Imogene seemed eager, and Catherine appreciated that.
“Where do you keep your records?” Imogene pointed to an old, rickety file cabinet against the wall. The forest green metal monstrosity stood about four feet tall and housed four separate drawers all labeled “paperwork.”
“Payroll and employee information is in the top drawer, invoices are in the second, and the third and fourth are dedicated to miscellaneous papers I didn’t really know what to do with but seemed important.” Catherine sat stunned. “Listen, I may have opened this place with money I didn’t earn, but I kept the doors open for ten years. Ten years. That was all me.” Her tone was growing more defensive and louder with every word. It occurred to Catherine that Imogene mistook her silence for an insult. “So don’t look at me like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Actually,” Catherine looked to Imogene to make sure the tirade was over, “I wasn’t doubting your ability to run this place. Like you said, you’ve kept it open this long. I’m not here to fix what’s not broken.” Catherine was sure Imogene recognized her own words the moment she said them. “I’m here to help what you already have grown and hopefully ensure a comfortable future for you and your family.” This wasn’t the first time Catherine had to calm a balking client, but it was the first time she cared about whether the client believed her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I know what it’s like to be underestimated, I get it. It’s just a lot to go through. Receipts?” It was a quick topic change, one that Imogene seemed grateful for as well.
“On top of the filing cabinet.” When she looked again, Catherine notice three shoeboxes stacked there. She looked at her curiously. “It’s my system,” Imogene said.
“Your system needs help,” Catherine said with a tilt of her head.
“Isn’t that why we’re together?”
The question played over and over in Catherine’s mind. Why else would two very different women be together? She hadn’t even realized how nice the thought of Imogene being interested in her was until it was no longer there. The reality sobered her immediately.
“Right.” Catherine rose and walked over to the files. “I guess we’ll start with taxes. Where’s last year’s paperwork?”
“Top drawer. My mother does all my filing for me, and I also took a night course in tax preparation. We try to keep everything in house, it’s another way I try to limit output.”
“Great.” She couldn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice, which immediately caused Imogene to stiffen. “I’m sorry.” She followed her grimace with a sympathetic smile before getting back to work.
Catherine admired the way Imogene kept an eye on her expenses, but she was frightened by the potential mess self-filing could cause. With a deep breath, she opened each drawer in turn and removed all the necessary files. Catherine then did the same with the boxes of receipts and payroll information. They spoke casually, but very little. Catherine was reluctant to share anything more than business knowledge, and Imogene seemed content with just observing. It took over an hour for the two women to collect everything needed, but once Catherine was satisfied, she stepped back and took a breath.
“Here’s the plan.” She looked up to make sure Imogene was listening and noticed that she looked tired. “I’m going to take this back to my office and look everything over. I’d like to get an idea of what last year looked like for Cowboy Fran’s so I can make sure everything will be in good shape for this year. If it’s all right with you and your mother,” Catherine added with a wink, “I’d like to take over your taxes for last year. I’m assuming that you haven’t filed yet?” Imogene nodded. “Good. Then after I get all of this sorted, we can talk about your inheritance. Would you like to hear the idea I’m working with now?” Again, Imogene nodded. Catherine frowned at Imogene’s silence. She was normally so talkative and inquisitive. “I’d like a fair amount of that money to sit right where it is in order to support this business. Whatever is in stocks will remain there, and the rest I’d like for you to invest further in any way you feel most comfortable. My main goal, however, is to make sure Cowboy Fran’s and your father’s memory are around for as long as possible.”
Imogene looked up at Catherine with shining eyes. “Thank you.” Her normally strong voice crackled.
When the urge to wrap the emotional woman in a warm embrace became too strong, Catherine cleared her throat and shrugged off the thanks. She was here because Alice asked her to help out a friend of a friend. Her desire to do her job the best she could had nothing to do with the glimmering blue eyes looking up at her at that moment.
“I’ll be in touch soon.” Catherine put on her jacket and collected the many boxes she had put together. After a few trips out to the car, she finally had everything she needed as she closed her trunk, or at least she thought she did.
“Last one.” Imogene ran outside and handed over a blue file before they said their final good-byes on the sidewalk. She watched as Catherine climbed into her car and drove off, her red taillights disappearing before Imogene made her way back inside.
Once she locked up for the night, Imogene sat behind her desk once more. She stared into space as she wondered about her behavior throughout the night. She’d unabashedly checked Catherine out several times, but when Catherine tried to call her out on it, she feigned nonchalance and brushed it off. Every time Catherine put another tempting body part on display—whether she was reaching deep within the filing cabinet for a particularly stubborn folder or bending to fill an empty box—Imogene averted her gaze for fear of being caught staring again. She was never one to hide her intentions or attractions, so what was it about Catherine Carter that startled her?
Imogene stood and started to make her way out. She picked up her cell phone and dialed Sophia. Maybe she had some sort of advice to clear her frazzled mind.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sophia, it’s not too late to talk, is it? Did I wake you or Chris up?” She suddenly felt silly for calling her friend so spontaneously.
“Sweetie, it’s barely nine o’clock. I’m not that old yet.” A comforting chuckle traveled through the phone. “What’s up?”
“Catherine Carter just left.”
“Oh?”
“She came by to talk about the business.”
“How did it go?”
“I’m not sure. I mean, it went good, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“She had some good ideas. She seems like she has good intentions, but I get such an odd vibe from her.” Imogene fought to make sense of her own scattered thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
“We were together for over two hours,
and she still feels like a complete stranger to me.” She paused long enough to unlock the door to her apartment.
“So she’s not much of a conversationalist?”
“She’s great at conversation, but it was all incredibly superficial or about the store. After a while, I just stopped talking because I felt like I was assaulting her.”
“And…” Sophia encouraged.
“And nothing.” Imogene kept the details to herself. She wasn’t ready to tell Sophia about the easy conversation or flirtation she resisted, and she definitely wasn’t ready to tell Sophia she was undeniably attracted to Catherine. “I’m just hesitant to trust a complete stranger with something that means so much to me.” She shucked off her shoes and gave Vixen a scratch from head to tail, smiling fondly at the purr she received.
“I think you should give her a chance. Catherine could be good for you.”
“Good for me?” Imogene guffawed. “Not only are we complete opposites in every way, but she’s so black-and-white, judgmental, and incredibly square! Sure she’s attractive, but that will only take a relationship so far before—”
“I was talking about your business, Imogene. Catherine could be good for your business.” Imogene was glad Sophia wasn’t there to witness the many shades of red she was turning. “It sounds to me like you’re being a bit judgmental as well.”
“Are you meddling?”
“Excuse me?” Sophia said, obviously offended.
“Did you read something? Did you see something?”
“I promised you years ago that I’d never read you without your permission, and I intend on keeping that promise until I die.”
Imogene couldn’t believe she’d accused her. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. She’s really got you out of sorts, doesn’t she?”
“I hate not knowing someone I’m working with! It drives me crazy! Does Chris know anything about her?”
“Not really. All he knows is that she and Alice have been friends since college or earlier. Unfortunately, I don’t know Alice well enough to ask personal details about her best friend. I could try to take a peek next time I’m around, you know.”
“No thank you, but I appreciate the offer. I’m just usually so good at getting people to open up and feel comfortable around me, but she’s all business most of the time. I offered little random tidbits about myself, and she’d respond with a question about the store. It’s so frustrating!”
“I’m sure she has her reasons.”
“I can’t even tell if she’s a lesbian.”
“And that matters because…?”
“It doesn’t,” Imogene barely whispered. She sighed as she slumped into her worn sofa and brought her feet up to rest on the coffee table.
“I do know she’s single.”
Imogene sat silently on the other end of the phone, fighting a smile. “She’s calling me soon so we can meet up and talk business. I guess we’ll see what happens. If I can’t trust her, if she doesn’t open up a little to me, I can’t work with her.”
“That’s understandable.”
“I should let you go. I don’t want to keep you from Chris.” Her eyes were growing heavy and Imogene stifled a yawn. Talking about money for hours was exhausting.
“He’s a big boy. He’ll understand my best friend needs me.”
“You truly are the best, Sophia.”
“I know. Have a good night, Imogene.”
“Good night.”
“Oh, and Imogene?”
“Yeah?”
“That new cashmere sweater you got in the boutique would look fantastic on you. Especially in blue. It’d be perfect for a business meeting.” Sophia hung up before Imogene could question her suggestion.
Chapter Eight
Sunday lunch seemed like the perfect place for Catherine to discuss business. She’d be able to eat and keep a time limit on her interaction with her client. She sat quietly in one of three chairs at the round table and stirred the carefully measured dash of sweetener into her unsweetened iced tea. A large box of files was on the chair across from her, leaving the spot beside her open for Imogene. When she breezed through the front door, Catherine stared for a moment before waving her over.
Imogene approached slowly and removed her brown leather jacket along the way. Catherine appraised her cobalt blue sweater, woven of what looked to be the softest yarn, with a scoop neck low enough to hint at the perfect amount of cleavage. The top hugged her slim abdomen tightly, cut high enough to accentuate the swell of her beautifully rounded hips, hips that held Catherine’s attention for longer than appropriate.
But Catherine wasn’t thinking about Imogene’s hips. Nor was she thinking about how they’d feel under her palms or just how decadent it would be to sink her short nails into them. Those thoughts were off-limits, as were the thoughts of counting each perfect freckle on her pale chest with her lips. Catherine shook her head and buried those feelings. This is business, she reminded herself.
“Hi.”
“Hey. Please, sit.” Catherine rose and indicated the spot next to her.
“I was so happy when you mentioned this place, it’s one of my favorites.” Imogene placed her jacket on the back of her cushioned chair and relaxed into it.
“Mine as well. If I’m not getting takeout for dinner on my way home, I’m usually sitting here for lunch on the weekends. Alone.” Why did I feel the need to specify alone? Now she probably thinks I’m pathetic. Imogene looked at her with sad eyes. Yup. She thinks I’m pathetic.
“I usually get takeout and bring it back to the store.” Imogene opened her menu and started to read, a relief to Catherine, who was ready to drown in her sympathetic gaze. Something about it was so soft, emotional and yet feral.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Their waiter approached quietly, startling both women.
“Thai iced tea, please,” Imogene said. “I’m ready to order if you are.” Catherine nodded. “I’ll have the Pad Kee Mao, please.”
“And for you?” The waiter smiled at Catherine.
“I’ll have the coconut rice salad with shrimp. Thank you.” Catherine handed her menu over and turned her attention back to Imogene. “How was the rest of your week?”
“Busy. I was actually quite shocked to hear from you so soon. I thought for sure that this,” she pointed her thumb in the direction of the overflowing box, “would have taken you a lot longer.”
“I pride myself on being quick, efficient, and thorough.” Catherine sat back with a cocky grin on her face, one Imogene didn’t look away from. “I was recommended for a reason.”
“I never doubted that. Speaking of all the work you’re doing for me, we never discussed your rates.” Catherine raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure how this goes. I’ve never worked with a consultant of any kind. Do you get paid hourly, per meeting, or at the completion of the job?”
Catherine took a long sip of her iced tea, chewing on her straw for a moment while she collected her thoughts and formulated an answer. Imogene looked back at her with innocent curiosity and lightness. “I’m not taking your money.”
“What?”
“I’m not taking your money,” Catherine repeated. She sat back and folded her arms across her chest, shoulders squared. “I’m doing this as a favor. Alice asked me to help out, and I want to do just that. This isn’t about money for me, it’s about doing what I’m good at and helping a friend in the process.” Catherine watched as Imogene looked from her face down to her toned arms. Subconsciously, she flexed.
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Sure you can. I’ll tell you what, buy me a cup of coffee sometime, and we’ll call it even.”
“I’ll do you one better. Lunch is on me.” Before the innocent argument could go any farther, the waiter brought their food, providing the perfect distraction.
“Enjoy.” Catherine fluffed her rice in order to make sure the dressing as well as the ingredients were evenly distributed throughout the whole
bowl. Before she had the chance to indulge in her first bite, Catherine saw a look of pain and mild disgust on Imogene’s face.
“Are you all right?” She placed a gentle hand on Imogene’s shoulder. That sweater was just as soft as she thought it would be.
“Yeah.” Imogene coughed. “I just hate spicy food.”
“Did the menu not specify it was spicy?” Catherine looked around for their waiter, but Imogene stopped her with a gentle hand. Catherine immediately dismissed the slight jolt she felt.
“Yes, it did. I just really want to like spicy food. I keep ordering it in hopes of changing my mind. No such luck.” Catherine eased back into her chair at Imogene’s crooked smile.
Just when I thought she couldn’t be any more charming! “Well, I know you like shrimp, so why don’t you have some of mine.” It wasn’t a question or suggestion. Catherine dished some of her rice salad onto a small plate and pushed it in front of Imogene.
“I can’t take your lunch from you!”
“You’re not, I’m sharing. Besides, I never finish the whole thing anyway.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking a bite. “Oh my God. This is divine.” She nearly grunted.
“I know, that’s why I order it at least two times a week.” An odd sense of pride wedged its way into Catherine’s chest at knowing Imogene enjoyed one of her favorite things.
“How is it possible that I’ve never ordered this? How do you not eat it all? Are you on a diet or something?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m not dieting, but I do believe in portion control and plenty of exercise to stay healthy.”
“It shows.” When Catherine blushed, Imogene added, “I don’t believe in either, obviously.”
Catherine’s eyes grew wide, and she spoke without thinking. “You have a perfect body.” Silence fell over the table as they both reddened and stared at one another. Catherine was sure she could hear herself blink.
“Thank you,” Imogene replied breathily.
Catherine changed the subject quickly. “Let’s talk numbers, shall we?” Nearly an hour had passed, and they had yet to discuss business.