When she returned to the coolness of the air-conditioned diner, even with the lights off, there was plenty of sunlight streaming in through the plate glass window facing Main. Before Rose joined Cam at the table in the sunniest spot, she asked, “Want something to drink?”
“No.” Cam pulled off the bandanna and finger combed his mop of thick blond hair. “Look, Rose, I’m no accountant. I can only tell you what I see.”
“I understand.” He’d already gone above and beyond and was even now, off the clock helping her. “Whatever you teach me will be a big help and much appreciated.”
“Yeah? How much?” He grinned at her, teasing. It wasn’t the good-time look he’d first given her, but softer. More like the kind of smile a kid might follow up with What will you give me?
Rose laughed.
“I see you’re not taking me seriously.” Cam pulled the manila envelope close and emptied the contents, then he winked at her.
She ignored the erratic dance of her pulse and watched as he spread the stack of paperwork out and thumbed through the pages. Her heart sank when he didn’t say anything for quite some time. “Well?”
Cam leaned back and sighed. “The Grille has made a profit each of these three years, but the most recent one saw a slight increase.”
“And the bad news?”
Cam shrugged. “There isn’t any that I can see.”
Rose pulled the paperwork closer and zeroed in on the first page and a line called Ordinary Business Income. “It sure doesn’t look like that big a profit.”
“That’s not the whole picture.” Cam flipped further into the packet and pointed. “This schedule is pretty much a balance sheet. There’s no paper losses or depreciation deductions here. This shows real dollars. Cash at the beginning of the year, cash at the end, and how that cash is used. These payments by the business are more than likely rent paid to Linda.”
“But it was all hers. Why pay rent to herself?”
Cam chuckled. “In a nutshell, The Grille paid Linda rent to help decrease its taxable income.”
“Oh.” Amazed, Rose stared at him. “How come you know so much about this stuff if you’re a fisherman?”
He looked surprised, as if he wasn’t used to such a compliment. “Even though I have my taxes done, I still review both my personal and business returns to make sure they’re correct. I keep track of my income and expenses throughout the year and always have.”
“Smart.” Rose nodded. Considering the scope of not only owning the diner, but the building, too, she needed to hire an accountant and soon. “So, based on what you see, am I sitting on a gold mine?”
“Not quite, but I think you inherited a good business and, with the right people, you can increase profits.”
He was one of those right people. He not only made super-tasty food, but he was good with the customers. He welcomed the volume instead of cursing it like Chuck had. Having grown up here, Cam knew everybody and greeted them by name. The dining patrons loved seeing Cam at the grill, too.
“You’d really help me interview cooks?”
He gave her a slow smile. “And transition them, if I can.”
“But you’re only here for a few more days.”
“I won’t leave you hanging, Rose.”
She searched his gaze, wanting to believe him, not knowing how he could possibly deliver when he was leaving at the end of the week.
He pointed at the bottom of the first page, bringing her attention back to the books. “Based on profits, you can certainly afford to hire an accountant. This is the firm Linda used and as far as I know, they’re good.”
Rose hadn’t paid herself a salary other than her tips because she’d been afraid of the immediate bills, including the cook’s payroll, eating up profits and the modest business checking account she’d also inherited. She’d deposited all cash receipts until she figured out a budget.
“So, what do you think the Deans are after? I can’t see them running this diner.”
“No. I can’t, either,” Cam agreed. “Maybe the building? Rents are high on Main Street.”
“Show me more.” Rose scooted her chair closer to make it easier to see the pages. Staring at those pages, she hoped they’d uncover the motive for the Deans’ threat.
Maybe then she’d know how to stop them.
* * *
Sitting this close to Rose, Cam detected a delicate fragrance. Underneath the cloying aroma of French fries and bacon grease that clung to both of them, he inhaled her soft scent. Leaning closer, he breathed deep.
She was dangerously sweet.
He appreciated the way her short hair swirled to a point at the back of her slender neck. His fingers itched to trace that hairline and see if her skin felt as soft as it looked.
Rose leaned back. “Okay, so you were saying?”
What was he saying? “Ummm, yeah.”
“Earth to Cam.” She laughed, having no clue that he’d been checking her out.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Rose immediately looked repentant. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day and you’re tired. We can do this another time.”
He didn’t dare meet her eyes. He wasn’t that tired. “It’s fine. Let’s see. The balance sheet—”
Rose scooped up the paperwork and stuffed it in the envelope. “Nope, this is too much for today.”
He glanced at the clock reading 3:15. They’d been going over figures for nearly an hour. “How about we get some fresh air? We can walk to the beach and meet your son before the program lets out and see how he likes it. On a hot day like this, they’re probably there.”
“And if they’re not?” Rose looked like she relished the idea but wasn’t so sure of walking there with him.
“Leave a note for Greg that we’ll be back.”
She stared at him a moment longer and then agreed. “Okay, let me grab my keys.”
The public beach wasn’t far, only a couple short blocks across the street from the diner. Cam walked beside a quiet Rose. Outside the diner, she seemed tense and barely looked at him.
“Where’d you live before here?” Cam asked.
“Kalamazoo. It’s where my parents live.” Rose didn’t embellish. She was all business, as if this wasn’t a social outing.
Cam wanted to know more about her. He’d meant what he’d said about not leaving her hanging. He didn’t know how he’d manage that, but it would come to him. “How do you like it here?”
“So far so good.”
“It’s still new.” Cam chuckled. “But take a look at that lake and name a better view if you can.”
Maple Bay shone turquoise near the shoreline until it blurred into a band of deep blue that touched a sunny, cloudless sky. A couple small yachts were anchored offshore.
“Beautiful, although I prefer the simple sailboats ambling in the bay instead of those big yachts.”
“Crazy, isn’t it? A small town like this draws people from all over in summer. Some of these yachts come from Florida, up the coast then through the lock system in New York and the Great Lakes.”
“Crazy.”