Embezzled Love (23 page)

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Authors: Ginger Simpson

BOOK: Embezzled Love
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Weaving in and out of traffic, Cassie drove a little faster than normal, anxious to get home and get things off her chest. Experts claimed communication was key to problem solving, so maybe the burdens she carried would lose some weight. The first thing she noticed when she pulled in the drive—the absence of Evan's truck. She wanted to scream. As usual, he wasn't around at a critical moment.

She went inside, dropped her commuter bag next to her desk, and eyed the new stack of mail. The piece on top was from a Las Vegas hotel. Curiosity forced her to open it. Inside was a confirmation for tickets to a concert and reservations for a suite. She shuddered, remembering their last trip, but maybe this one would be better. They'd come a long way since then, and another trip might be the key to solving some of their issues.

Evan's old pickup rumbled into the garage. She pushed aside the unpleasant memories and wrapped herself in visions of an upcoming romantic getaway. What a great follow-up to the serious discussion she planned to have with him.

He walked inside and she waved the letter in the air, flashing her best smile. "Look what I found in the mail."

Evan snatched the paper, scanned it, then glanced up. "Great. Bud and I are all set for the weekend."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

Bud and I? Evan's words cut through her like a knife. He and his buddy were the couple going to Vegas. So much for romantic getaways and together time. Her shoulders sagged and a frown tugged away her smile.

"Baby girl, are you all right? All of a sudden you look like someone stole your puppy." As if a light bulb went on over his head, his eyes widened. "Oh, you thought…."

"Yeah, silly me for thinking the reservations were for the two us. I feel like a fool."

A breath fluttered his lips. "I'm so sorry. It's not too late if you want to go. I can still call and change things around."

Her jaw dropped at his absurd suggestion. "Certainly not, I'd feel like the afterthought I am. I'm hurt that you didn't think to include me, but not surprised."

He closed the gap between them and attempted to embrace her. She planted her palm in the middle of his chest and stiffened her arm. "Oh, no, hugs aren't going to get it, this time. Just leave me alone." She spun on her heel, glancing back. "You and Bud have a wonderful time."

Cassie stormed up stairs and slammed her bedroom door. The wall shook. She plopped on her bed, sticking out her bottom lip like a pouting child. She hadn't meant to let her anger get the best of her, but how would he react if she invited a friend on a mini-vacation and didn't include him? Having heard that blowing air upward toward one's eyes staunched tears, she tried it. He wasn't going to see her cry.

The air trick worked. Her eyes cleared, and she took slow, even breaths to calm herself. The sound of someone coming upstairs sounded, and she supposed it could only be Evan. Hurrying to the vanity, she pretended to be straightening her makeup drawer. The door inched open, and she glimpsed his reflection behind her. She continued her pretense, moving things around, keeping her gaze trained on the drawer, and ignoring him.

A subtle peek through her lashes monitored his movements. Her heart pounded as he moved closer. She felt his breath.

"Baby, I'm really sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. My excitement about getting Star Strung going must have killed off some brain cells. When Bud found out about B.B. King, and I have a replica of his guitar, I…."

She spun and held up her hand to stop his rambling. "Believe it or not, I understand, but that doesn't keep me from feeling hurt that you'd rather go with Bud than me."

"Well, I can…"

She shook her head. "Don't bother. Inviting me now is like a slap in the face. You go ahead and do what you need to do."

His moustache twitched as he bit his bottom lip. He hung his head. "I'm such a dunce. What can I do to make it up to you?"

She walked to the bed and perched on the edge. "You can sit next to me. I have some other things I need to discuss with you and now seems like a pretty good time."

Evan looked sheepish as he joined her, and took a deep breath. "Okay, what other idiotic things have I done?"

She swiveled around, pulling one leg up on the bed. "I'm going to come right to the point. Do you have a drinking problem?"

His head jerked around, and he locked gazes with her. "Whoa, where did that come from?"

"I'm assuming the bottles of whiskey in the gardening shed belong to you."

His brows rose, but he didn't answer.

"Well, do they?"

His Adam's apple bobbed with a swallow. "Uh, yeah. They're mine. How did you happen across 'em?"

"I went looking for something in the shed and found them," she lied. "If a person hides liquor, that usually means they have a drinking problem."

He covered her hand with his. "I don't. I promise. I like to have a shot now and then, but I only put my stash in the shed because of your mom. When we were at Cal and Gloria's, I got the impression she didn't approve of alcohol. Honest."

"Why do you need to drink?"

"When I've had a tough day, I have a little nip to help me relax, but if it's going to cause a problem, I won't do it anymore. In fact, I'll go out there right now and dump the stuff on the ground. I don't want to do anything to lose you, babe. I love you, and you can bank on that. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you."

The sincerity in his eyes made him very believable, but she wanted a little more assurance. "That's some pretty costly booze. You're telling me you'll just pour it out and be done with it?"

"Absolutely. You mean more to me than anything."

Her heart softened like melting wax, but she wanted everything out in the open. She rested her hand on his knee. "I love you, too, and I do believe you. We can't hide things from one another if we want to build trust, and that brings me to another topic—money."

"What about it?" He rolled his eyes.

"You have to do more to help me keep the books in order. We have to file an adequate accounting with the IRS, and as things stand…quite frankly, your recordkeeping sucks. I've made a folder for each contracted job and assigned a number. I need you to put that number on all the receipts for each particular job, and more importantly, I'd appreciate if you checked in with me before spending large sums of money. We have to have cash in the coffers to cover unexpected expenses. No more surprises, please."

"Is that it?" Agitation edged his voice.

"I believe so."

He stood and stared down his nose at her. "Let me tell you something, lady. I'll pour out the booze, and I'll do my best to keep better records, but if I have to be monitored like a little kid and ask you about every dime I spend, then we may as well close up shop right now. There is no way I'm gonna come beggin' for money to run these businesses. Like I told you before, you're either gonna trust me or you're not. If you don't or can't, then tell me now and I'm outta here." His fists turned white from being so tightly balled.

Panic welled in her throat and threatened to choke her. She never expected him to be this upset. God, she didn't want to lose him. This was supposed to be one of those communication breakthroughs, not a relationship breakup. Blinking back tears, she grabbed his hand and peered up at him.

"I don't expect to monitor you, and I do trust you, but it's nearly impossible to keep track of things when you're so free with money and don't keep me informed. We're supposed to be partners, but I feel like your personal paper pusher. Can't we work something out?"

The furrow in his brow smoothed. "I don't want to be treated like a child. I've been my own boss for a long time and I don't see myself changing."

"I don't consider you a child, honest. We're equal partners in love and business. If we work on keeping each other informed about everything…business, our feelings, our needs, our relationship can only get stronger."

"I can sure try to do better."

She stood and circled his waist with her arms. "You scared me for a minute there. I thought I was going to lose you. Promise me whatever happens, we'll always try to talk it out."

"Evan held up two fingers. "Boy Scout's honor."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty

 

Amidst grocery bags and cans, boxes and frozen goods covering the counter, Cassie stared at the wall calendar in the kitchen. Hard to believe Thanksgiving was just a day away. Evan and Bud had made their trip to Vegas and returned with signed guitars and pictures as documentation. She had framed one of a smiling Evan with his arm around B.B. King, and hung it over Evan's desk. The stock of instruments continued to grow, but Cassie had been aware of every purchase.

Her talk with Evan had made a difference. He spent a lot of time on job sites and seeking new clients, but at the end of each day, any receipts or notes made appeared in her basket and properly numbered.

She'd taken a few days off work for the holidays. Despite the time of year, the landscape business bustled. Billy stayed busy with his crew, now officially a supervisor. Star Strung was still in the fledgling stages, but Bud had finished the website, signed up for local advertising, and returned to Texas. All that remained was waiting for customers to start clamoring for personally autographed guitars.

Cal and Gloria would be arriving tomorrow and when everything was put away, the pantry would be well-stocked. She and Mom had just returned from shopping for the holiday feast. The car's trunk had bulged with grocery bags. Of course, the glorious task of carrying them all inside fell to Cassie since the men were nowhere to be found. When she'd insisted Mom go inside and get some rest, she'd met some serious resistance.

"Just because I'm eighty doesn't mean I need a nap. I'm quite capable of helping you get the groceries inside. After all, who do you think is going to get up early and put the turkey in the oven?"

Cass had shrugged. "Okay, mother dear. I was just trying to be nice." When would she learn that arguing with her elders was never a good idea?

When the last sack was on the counter, Cassie tried again to get her mother to rest. "Okay, you've helped bring the bags inside, but let me put the stuff away. We'll just be in each other's way if we're both in the pantry."

The logic must have rung true, her mother relented. "My favorite TV program is about to start anyhow." Carrying a bag of cookies, she'd ambled off to her room.

The enormous love Cassie felt for her mother stemmed from the woman's feistiness and spunk. Living together was easy, and the house had been a great find, as it afforded the opportunity to have her mom under the same roof, know she was safe, but still maintain separate living space. The situation was perfect. Almost.

Her resentment toward her ex-husband resurfaced and brought an overwhelming emptiness with it. He was the reason she never had a child of her own. She bit her lip and fought tears. Who would take care of her in her old age?

Squaring her shoulders, she reminded herself how much better life had been since the divorce. Thanks to Greg, she found Evan and the path to true happiness. She might not have children but she had the next best thing—a man who loved her.

She blotted thoughts of her previous life from her mind and continued carrying things to the pantry. Tomorrow, the house would be filled with wonderful smells of Mom's cooking and they'd all eat until they were ready to bust. A pretty picture, but one shrouded by a dark cloud. She emptied an armful of cans onto the shelves, closed the door and returned to fold the empty sacks.

Frank and Alaine wouldn't be coming. This would be the first holiday without them. She'd hoped they would call, but they didn't. Her eyes clouded. She didn't fight the welling, rather allowed her sorrow the release it sought. Tears trickled down her cheeks and fell to the counter, splattering the grocery bags and marking them with dark brown polka dots.

 

* * *

 

Cassie stood on her front porch, sipping coffee and enjoying the beautiful winter morning one could only enjoy in Southern California. The crispness of the evening had cooled the air enough to keep the smog at bay, and now puffs of white, cottony clouds floated lazily in a sea of blue sky.

Her gaze rested on the metal clips nailed to the eaves where festive lights had hung not long ago. Thanksgiving and Christmas had come and gone without a word from Frank and Alaine. Although Cassie's heart ached for her mother, the more time that passed, the more the pain numbed. Evidently, she wasn't a priority to them.

Mom didn't complain. She still made weekly trips to share meals at their homes, but they couldn't even swallow their pride enough to visit her. She had her own entrance, for heaven sakes. They wouldn't even have to interact with Cassie or Evan.

At least Gloria and Cal had flown in for both holidays, lifting Mom's spirit and making the season a little brighter. The day the three had left her behind to exchange gifts with Frank and Alaine had been a little tough, but she survived because of the very reason that brought about the rift—Evan. Without warning, Billy had moved back to Texas before Christmas, and they hadn't heard a word from him since he left.

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