Page 8 of His Wisconsin Wallflower
Her lips twitched as if she were suppressing a grin. “Fresh ingredients, mostly. Mint, hibiscus, citrus… and lots of patience and love.”
Quinten couldn’t help but grin back. “Patience and love, huh? Sounds like a secret weapon.”
“Maybe,” she replied, her tone light, but there was a hint of whimsy in her expression. “It’s not as complicated as people think. You only have to let the flavors steep properly and not rush the process.”
Quinten leaned a little closer, his smile widening. “I like that.” He let his gaze linger on her for a moment before he added, almost impulsively, “You know, speaking of flavors… how about dinner?”
Raisa blinked, unmistakably surprised. “Dinner?”
“Yeah. I’d like to have a meal with you.”
“Unless you count the diner, there aren’t many options around here.” Her brow arched as if in challenge. “You know a place?”
Gauntlet thrown and taken!“I do.” He puffed up his chest. “There’s a spot that serves the best beer cheese soup and bratwurst you’ll find in Wisconsin.”
Raisa hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “All right. Dinner it is.”
Quinten straightened, pleased. “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.” As he turned to leave, he caught her shaking her head almost unperceptively, her smile still lingering. Quinten slapped his forehead with a sheepish grin. “Almost forgot to order. Let’s see…” He leaned closer to the menu, scanning the options. “I’ll take a meat lover’s sandwich with all the fixings, a Reuben on rye, and two iced teas.”
Raisa nodded, as she jotted down the order. When she turned back to him, Quinten reached for his wallet and handed her a crisp fifty-dollar bill. Their fingers touched, and againa small, not-so-unexpected jolt sparked between them. He couldn’t help the small flicker of satisfaction when she met his gaze, her eyes momentarily soft before she turned back to prepare the order.
For the first time in a long while, Quinten felt like something was starting to fall into place.
Chapter Six
After lunch with his mom, which now included Raisa’s iced tea on his to-die-for beverages list, Quinten worked through the early afternoon, sorting the previous year’s finances and making a call to the IRS to explain the mess and request time to resolve it. He managed to buy a small window of reprieve, and by late afternoon, took his mom home and called in a family discussion.
Quinten leaned back in his chair, glancing around the small living room where the Carrington family’s impromptu meeting had gathered. His father sat in the recliner by the window, his once-broad shoulders slumped, and his face lined with worry. At sixty-three, he looked more like seventy. The sight hit Quinten harder than he expected. His dad wasn’t invincible. He was aging and fading. And damn it, Quinten wanted his parents to have a few happy years together without working themselves into the ground.
Thinking of his mother, he stole a glance at her. She looked effortlessly put together, her blouse unwrinkled, her smile calm, like the day hadn’t touched her at all. How did she do that?
She perched on the edge of the couch with a cup of tea in her hand, her posture straight and her expression calm but alert.Corbin sat cross-legged on the floor, a notepad balanced on his knee, ready to take notes. Across from him, their foreman and cousin, Gavin, leaned forward on the arm of a chair, flicking his sharp gaze between them all.
“All right,” Quinten began, then paused to clear his throat before squaring up like it was fourth and long. “I have some bad news and good news to share with you. To start with the bad: the books are a mess.”
“How bad?” Corbin poised his pen above the notepad, looking like an eager schoolboy.
Quinten sighed. “Bad. Things aren’t adding up for the last sixteen months or so. Payments are late, balances don’t make sense, and it’s obvious things haven’t been reconciled properly.”
His father let out an irritated grumble. “Vanessa Clark was supposed to handle that. Damn girl’s been doing it for years.”
“I know Vanessa,” Quinten said, leaning forward. “I’ve known her since high school. She has a good reputation, but right now? She’s not answering her phone. I’ve left more voicemails than I can count, and I even went by her house.”
“And?” Gavin raised an eyebrow.
“Her car’s gone, the house is dark and empty. I don’t know where she is, and frankly, it’s making me nervous.”
“Could she be on vacation?” Corbin sounded skeptical.
“Maybe.” Quinten ran a hand through his hair. “But she’s not exactly the type to take off without warning. Something is off. I don’t know…”
The room fell silent for a moment as they all processed the information.
“I can ask around town,” Gavin offered. “See if anyone knows where she went or if they’ve heard anything. She’s close with a couple of women. They should know where Vanessa is.”
Quinten nodded. “Good idea. Thank you. We need to figure this out. The longer this drags on, the harder it’s going to be to fix.”
“You said you have bad news and good news.” Corbin tapped his pen on the notepad. “What’s the good news?”
