Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge (11 page)

He reached up and ran his hands through the
thick dark locks of his hair. “This is exactly what I mean.
Everyone comes first. Hell, Laura, that's not how to run a
business. If you don't think of yourself first, there won't be a
business.”

She stared at him, an ugly heaviness weighing
her heart. “I was wrong about you. I thought you simply had a cold
heart, now I realize you just don't have one.”

She turned away, disgusted. “Let's get this
over with.”

She thought she heard him sigh before
following her down the corridor.

When they entered his office, Bridget stood
up from the chair behind his desk, bringing them both to a halt.
The woman had been completely forgotten the moment Laura said the
word money. Dexter grimaced as he approached the blonde model.

“You'll have to leave Bridget, I've got
business to deal with.”

For the first time, Laura approved of the
crude tone of voice. There was an instant dislike for the woman who
flaunted herself across Dexter's desk, and from the look she was
now giving Laura, the feeling was mutual.

“Pooh, Dexter!” She pouted, producing full
red lips. “I've been looking so forward to spending some time with
you. Can't you cancel?”

“Goodbye Bridget.” Then, only because Laura
was watching intently, he added, “I'll call you.”

He immediately regretted it though as the
woman's face lit up tenfold. “Really? When?”

Sounding more aggravated than he pleased, he
growled, “When I've got the time.”

This seemed to appease the woman who smiled
happily and came over and planted a long wet kiss on his mouth.
Laura looked away, not sure why the sight was so unsettling.

At last the kiss ended and Bridget stalked
off proudly, angling Laura a look from the corner of her eye as she
left. Laura watched her leave, then turned her attention back to
his desk. Across from it, Dexter had put on his business armor once
more before dropping down into the oversized office chair behind
him. She couldn't help but smirk; a bright red smudge smeared his
otherwise perfect upper lip.

He noticed the glee in her eye. “What?”

Instead of answering, she reached over and
retrieved a tissue from a box on his desk. Her intention was too
simply hand it to him, but found herself instead leaning across the
polished wooden surface. Perplexed, he watched her movements
skeptically.

Then, unexpectedly, she reached up and wiped
the smear of lipstick from his startled lip. His reaction was
surprising, full of deride and disgust. With a jerk, his head
snapped back as if she had literally shocked him with an electric
current, his features scarred in revulsion.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Offended, she dropped her hand. “Your
girlfriend left a smear of lipstick.”

“She's not—” he snapped, then caught himself,
“—going to get away with that.”

Laura frowned, then sat back in her seat.
“For a girlfriend, you sure don’t treat her nicely.”

“And I suppose you are an expert in the field
of dating?” When she only made a face, he continued, “Too bad you
couldn't make a business out of it.”

“I happen to be very good at what I do. The
girls trust me, that's very important.” A thought occurred to her.
“Is that why you won't invest in my shelter. You think I can't do
the job?”

“Only where it comes to the financial
aspects.” Vividly relieved they were back on a subject he felt a
hundred percent more comfortable, he reached up and wiped
annoyingly at the smudge of lipstick. More so to rub away the feel
of Laura’s touch.

“I think I managed quite well at Bingo Night,
even if you won't admit it.”

“I have my doubts you could pull it off
again,” he mumbled more to himself, as he began concentrating on
the small book containing the inapt expenditures of her daily
accounts.

“Isn't coming here today a good financial
move?” Why was the need to have his approval so important?

He stopped reading long enough to look over
at her. “I'll give you that. It's about the only sane move you've
made.”

She sighed, giving up. What was the use? He
simply would not give her credit where credit was due. Instead she
sat back in her seat and observed him as he swiveled his oversized
chair around and faced a computer perched behind him. His dark
brooding face was immersed in the complicated program flickering
onto the monitor, leaving Laura an inconspicuous chance to study
his profile.

His scowl deepened as he stared in confusion
at the screen.

“What’s wrong? Is it that bad?”

He grunted, “Yes, but that isn’t the problem.
We had a new computer program installed on the mainframes
throughout the building and I’m still trying to get a grasp on
it.”

He reached for the phone and pressed the
intercom button. “Cara, I think I locked up my screen again. Can
you have Daniel come up?”

Meanwhile, without thinking, Laura
immediately got up and came around his desk to help. It was a
natural reaction. Whenever someone needed something, she
instinctively wanted to do anything in her power to help. Which was
why she probably chose psychology as a major back in
university.

He looked startled at her unexpected
presence, so close when she kneeled next to his chair and narrowed
her eyes at the unfamiliar looking program on the screen. Her brain
went into automatic processing mode, trying to identify and
execute. Regardless of the fact she knew zero about computers.

“Hmm, what if you select the proem icon?” She
pointed to one of the many small squares on the screen with the
word LAUNCH on it.

“Do you know anything about computer
programs?”

Abashed, she admitted, “No, not really—”

“Then I suggest you don’t touch anything.
These programs are highly complex and expensive.”

Chastised, she backed away the same moment
the door to his office opened. Laura glanced over her shoulder and
was surprised to see Daniel Keller enter. A smile immediately
crossed her lips. “Hello, Daniel, what a surprise!”

He glanced at her taken aback, confusion
slightly creasing the corners of his eyes.

“Laura Witherow,” she offered. “From the
bingo charity event last night.”

His stance immediately relaxed and he
returned her smile. “Of course. I trust you had a successful
night?”

“Yes, as a matter-of-fact, I was just having
Dexter—” She glanced at him and noticed a look of alarm in his
eyes, before quickly suppressing it from Laura’s gaze.

Snapping, he said, “Let’s get on with this. I
have a mountain of workload backed up.”

She frowned. What was that all about?

“I’m certain this won’t take long,” Daniel
assured him and approached the computer. As he bent over the
monitor, he shot over his shoulder to Laura, “By the way, I’m not
sure who donated the blueberry pie, but I took a piece home last
night and it was divine.”

Laura beamed, pleased. “Really? That was my
contribution.”

He stood up, pushing his glasses into place,
momentarily abandoning his task. “Is that right? Well you did a
fantastic job. I so rarely get a blueberry pie made with real
berries so it was a real nice treat.”

Chuckling, she agreed. “Those canned fruit
pies can’t, in all sincerity, call themselves pies. Not to mention,
nine out of ten of those pies also use frozen pie crusts. It’s
disgraceful.”

His eyes lit up. “You made the crust from
scratch as well? It really had a real nice taste to it. Some kind
of kick to it—”

“You noticed!” she exclaimed excited. “That’s
because I decided to add a pinch of mint extract—”

“Ok, look here, we are here to fix a computer
glitch, not exchange recipes,” Dexter’s irate voice interrupted
them.

Daniel made an apologetic face then quickly
turned back to the computer. “No harm, Dex, you’re just on the
preface screen. Just hit the LAUNCH icon and that will bring you
back to the main page.”

Startled, Laura beamed inwardly but couldn’t
help shooting a smug brow at Dexter who only scowled in return.
“I’ll remember for next time. Thanks Daniel.”

“Sure thing.”

When Daniel didn’t make for the door as
pronto as Dexter would have preferred, he glanced up at the
computer engineer and said, “That’s all. You can go now.”

Daniel shot his brows high, grinned, then
sauntered for the door. “Nice meeting you, Laura!”

“You too, Daniel.”

When he left, she turned her amiable face
back to the scowling man opposite her and sighed. Right, she
reminded herself, time to switch gears. Daniel was so pleasant and
refreshing, she almost forgot she had to be on her guard around
Dexter’s brooding self.

Repressing her smile, she returned to her
chair and presented him with her best somber persona. He shot her
one more annoyed look, before returning to the computer program.
Her eyes involuntarily shifted back to his face and sighed
silently. A fresh grimace appeared on his face while staring at the
screen, and Laura feared this time had more to do with her finances
than the new computer program.

The habitual firm tautness of his jaw had her
suddenly pandering how he would appear if he allowed himself to
smile. If she were an artist she would take his likeness to the
canvas and capture the image that disturbingly came to mind. A
fiery little warmth unexpectedly shot down the arch of her back and
had Laura instantly sweeping the image aside. Something about him
she couldn’t quite put her finger on, aroused a sensation she was
too ignorant to name. True, she plainly discerned his animosity,
however, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what those long
sinewy fingers pounding away at the keyboard would feel stroking
her skin. She blushed heatedly at the unexpected vision,

“I'm creating a budget report based on the
figures in your account book.” He glanced at her, paused, and then
asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yes, why?”

“Your cheeks are all red.”

Of course this observation only made her
cheeks grow even more flushed. “I’m fine. It’s just warm in
here.”

“The air conditioning is on.”

Irritated, she sighed and gestured toward the
screen, wanting to change the subject. “You created a budget
report, you were saying?”

He studied her curiously for a brief second,
then shifted his gaze toward the door Daniel had earlier exited.
His eyes appeared to darken momentarily before he squared his
shoulders, then turned his attention back to the screen and shifted
all at once into his business persona.

“In the report, I’ve listed both your income
and expenses. Of course, this does not include the donations you
received at your charity event, but at the moment I entirely
suggest you don't spend that money, instead invest the funds and
produce as much return on the dollar as long as possible.”

His professional demeanor was quite effective
in cooling Laura’s cheeks, for which she was grateful. It was
humiliating at being caught fantasizing about the man. Drawing
herself out of her musings, she focused on the importance of
properly maintaining her accounting records.

From a nearby printer, he retrieved the
complex document simply by selecting a key. Laura silently marveled
at the intricate processing of the technical apparatus. Apart from
the programs that were a requirement in university along with a
Facebook page she hardly used, she knew very little about
computers. Selecting the right icon for Dexter had been a fluke.
They just had never been her strong suit. But in today’s day and
age, with the use of the internet and instant access to data and
facts, she knew really ought to. Maybe she could get him to teach
her. Then she scoffed at herself. Right, he begrudgingly was
teaching her how to administer her own bookkeeping, she doubted he
could care whether she knew the intricate details of operating a
computer.

He dropped a colored sheet in front of her,
followed by another. “Here is a balance sheet summarizing both your
assets and your liabilities. In other words, what you owe and what
you own. To get a better understanding of your net worth, I
designed this pie chart which will show you the percentage
breakdown of your assets and liabilities.” He shuffled in his chair
so she could get a better view. “As you can see, the difference
isn't that great now. But I can guarantee you in a years’ time,
tops, this red portion, which represents the liabilities to the
house, will increase.”

“Unless I do something about it?”

He sat back in his chair and stared hard
across at her. “You won't give up this absurd idea and close the
shelter?”

“No.”

“You're going to lose your home—your father's
home.”

“I won't. I'll never let that happen,” she
boldly stated, entrusting the care entirely upon herself. There was
no one else. She was alone in this world, and she better not forget
it.

Dexter shook his head, obviously in
disagreement, however he pushed himself back into an upright
sitting position and said, “Then we shall continue. You'll need to
keep track both of your accounts payable, accounts receivable, as
well as any job, projects, or client costs you endure. Keep
up-to-date income statements and balance sheets. This is very
important, you must be monitoring the bottom dollar at the end of
each month. If you're careful, you'll be able to break even before
you declare bankrupt. Now, you don't have any employees down at the
shelter do you? No payroll records to keep track of?”

She shook her head. “Of course not.”

“Okay, good, let's move on.” He pulled out
some brochures and flyers and laid them out in display for her.
“These are our best investments. I highly suggest anyone of them,
but it is up to the customer entirely. If you want your money in a
high-risk stock than I suggest this one, if you want semi-risk,
non-risk, it goes on down the line from there. You make the
choice.”