Page 35 of Relinquish

“I won’t be in town for long, so I thought we could get together somewhere in private during the event. I’ll only be there until the day after the fundraiser. If needed, we can iron out the details in a more formal setting–say your office or house.” If he’s stealing the items, it’s unlikely he’s leaving things lying around in plain sight, but why not give it a shot. “I can always tell if something is going to be lucky for me by the vibe of the room. I know that might sound a smidge eccentric, but I’m in tune with my horoscope and psychic connections.” I stifle a giggle and roll my eyes.

“I understand. What about your father? Will he be meeting with us? I’m sure he’ll have some sound advice for your investments.”

“He won’t be involved. He cut me off a couple of months ago. I even had to move and get a job of all crazy things.” I pick up an ink pen and doodle on the top page of my notebook. “It’s not like I went to college for a career. All I know how to do is go on shopping sprees, and there are not a lot of opportunities for that as a vocation.”

“Won’t he have a problem with you attending if you’re fighting?”

Shit. Sweat pops out on my neck. Why didn’t I think of that? I need to plan these things out before I open my big fat mouth. I tap the pen, trying to think of something logical to say. “No. Even if we aren’t speaking to each other, he expects me to be there. With my father, everything is about appearances, and this is an election year. There won’t be a person in attendance who’ll sense we’re on the outs.”

After a short pause, Randall says, “I’ll see you Saturday night.”

Cha-ching. “I look forward to meeting you. Goodbye.” I click off without allowing him the opportunity to reply.

Everyone will be present for the big event. Let the games begin.

Chapter Nineteen

Lola

The next afternoon, I wait on the sofa outside of Mr. Truman’s office. His one o’clock meeting has now lasted until 2:15 p.m. Mr. Truman’s administrative assistant, Natalie Simms, had offered me a glass of ice water an hour ago. It’s sitting on the coffee table, half-consumed with pencil-eraser-sized ice cubes floating at the top. I’ve leafed through and discarded the only magazine that held my interest–a review of the upcoming football season. It’s several weeks old, but I love football, and it’s exciting to think about following a new team. The team’s quarterback, Gunner Sinclair, sounds like he’s the real deal.

As I sift through the rest of the magazines, I wrinkle my nose–hunting, men’s health, military gear, and car mechanics. The military magazine did have an advertisement for a good deal on a pair of night vision glasses. Those could come in handy.

“Have you run out of things to look at?” Natalie tucks her ink pen into the bun on top of her head. “I don’t think he’ll be much longer.” She’s a quiet, mid-thirties, divorced mother of two who’s known for her efficiency in keeping the entire operation running smoothly. Not quite a drill sergeant, but precariously close.

“Mr. Truman needs to come up with some personal interest or entertainment magazines for people who’re waiting. I shouldn’t have come up so early.” I frown. He’s been gone for close to a week, and his backlog is likely enormous.

After my phone call with Randall, I’d spent half the night making travel plans and considering different strategies to catch whoever is responsible for the robbery/theft ring. Waiting until the middle of the afternoon to discuss my plans has been torture.

I grab the men’s health magazine and flip through the pages. Once I’d gotten to Mr. Truman’s office, Natalie had taken pity on me and buzzed in to see when he’d have time to meet with me. He’s supposed to squeeze me in during a short break around 2:00 p.m., but the clock is inching precariously close to 2:30 p.m.

“I keep telling him he needs to order some different topics, but so far, he hasn’t.” She digs into her purse, drags out a thin paperback book, and waves it in my direction.

“It’s a word search puzzle. I have these for my kids. Do you want to borrow it?”

“I appreciate it, but I would hate to get paid to waste time.” What in the hell do you think you’ve been doing for the last hour? Heat flows over my face. “Can you call me when he gets a break?”

“Sure, no problem.” She glances down. “Speaking of the devil. Looks like he was listening.” She snatches the phone receiver up and lays it next to her ear. “Yes, Mr. Truman?”

After listening for a few moments, she replies, “Yes, Sir. Ms. Sutherland is waiting. I’ll send her in.” She hangs up. “He’ll see you now.”

I close the magazine and lay it back on the table. “Thank you for keeping me entertained. What should I do with the glass?”

“Just leave it. I’ll put it up in a bit.”

“Thank you.” I walk to Truman’s private entrance, and the door swings open. Cade. So, this is where he’s been hiding all day. He’s wearing a tight-fitting polo shirt that shows off his solid upper body and a pair of khaki pants. He’s a walking temptation. All I need is a can of spray-whipped topping and a couple of minutes alone with him. Yep, I’m adding Reddi-Wip to my grocery list.

“Hey, Lola.” Cade steps to the side and motions me inside. “Come on in.”

Mr. Truman stands behind his desk and motions me toward one of the chairs opposite him. “Have a seat. I’m sorry we kept you waiting so long.”

I tear my gaze away from Cade, settle into the seat, and wait as Mr. Truman eases back into the chair, relaxing against the back. He’s dressed like Cade, which is the standard wear for many men in the company. Business casual is much more common than expensive suits. His face and forearms possess a deep glow.

“I didn’t realize you were waiting, or I wouldn’t have taken up so much of his time.” Cade shuts the door and lowers into the other open chair next to mine.

“I’m sure you had a lot of catching up to do. I didn’t realize you were here today.” God, did that sound pouty? I’d expected him to stop by my cubicle this morning to discuss our upcoming date, but he’d never shown up. When he didn’t, I rang his office, but he didn’t answer.

Cade cringes. “I was running late this morning. Stella’s neighbor’s dog got away from him when he took him out for a walk. They were both out searching the neighborhood and couldn’t locate him. They were afraid he was going to get run over, so Stella phoned me in a panic. The dog is a Pomeranian, so he’s kind of easy to misplace. I didn’t get to work until close to noon.”

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