“Jen’s insistence that I’ll be robbed blind without your help is insulting,” Rebecca muttered. “I’ve managed to keep the lights on all by myself for some time.”
“Sure, but now you’re going to be a juicier target.” Will grimaced. Juicier wasn’t a word he should use in conversation with a client.
“I guess.” Rebecca sighed. “And even if I want to give it all away, I would like to make sure the money has an impact.”
Will didn’t understand Rebecca’s urge to donate that much money, but he could still help Holly Heights’s lottery winners make good decisions. “If we use some of your winnings to make more money, that means more help to spread around.” As well as a solid payday for him.
“You and Jen, you’re stuck in the same loop. But I agree. All of us together, we’re going to make Holly Heights better and change the world. This is about more than finding places with the best financial returns. You’re sure you know what I want?”
He wasn’t sure he agreed with her, but the client was always right at Barnes Financial.
Unless he couldn’t stomach how wrong they were.
“How about I present you with some options? I know you’ve already earmarked funds for the hospital’s mentoring program, and I’ve made donations in your name to the short list of causes you gave me when we started. Now we can talk investments and other programs closer to home. You let me know what works with your schedule, and I’ll have a few things to show all three of you.”
“Sounds good. Stephanie passed along the check I wrote to HealthyAmericas, but we might want to send another donation. Daniel’s identified five students to sponsor through the university in Lima, so he’ll need funds for tuition. Please add them to your list,” Rebecca said.
“Okay.” Will jotted a reminder to study the financials of the medical charity Rebecca’s brother, Daniel, worked with in South America. Researching not-for-profits was going to be a new direction, but the process should be similar.
Not that it mattered. Rebecca’s brother and her best friend, Stephanie, were doing good things in Peru. Stephanie’s blog was a record of how money and dedicated, passionate people could make amazing progress that would impact generations.
It would take some serious mismanagement to turn Rebecca and Stephanie away from HealthyAmericas. His gut said it wasn’t a problem.
“We’ll have a dinner party to send the lovebirds back to Lima. I’ll give them the check before they go.” Rebecca sighed happily. “By then, my new kitchen will be finished. And you’re coming.” The long pause indicated she was waiting for his answer.
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Almost everyone he knew in Holly Heights was a part of Rebecca’s crowd, but there might be a few networking opportunities.
“You need to call your sister,” Rebecca said. “She’s making some big decisions. It would be nice if she had some advice.”
He’d tried that once. She’d ordered him to go shove his head in the lake. Loudly.
They’d always mixed like orange juice and toothpaste.
“I will call her. I promise.” But not today. Tomorrow, definitely.
“I’m going to hold you to that. Aunt Jen would like to know your Chloe.” She hung up and he wondered if this would be the way he and Jen communicated now that he was in town. Rebecca would get tired of being the middleman sooner or later.
And Chloe and Jen and Brenda—his stepmother—together were the reason he was taking this risk in the first place.
But his plate was pretty full at the moment.
First, he needed some leads on organizations Rebecca would love. Jen and Stephanie were mainly along for the ride.
“Who could I call to find out about local organizations? Somebody at the chamber of commerce?” He scrolled through his list of business contacts, saw the name of his leasing agent and decided that was a good place to start. Real estate agents should have plenty of inside information on all the businesses in town.
Before he could dial the number, he heard the front door open, thanks to the chime he’d had installed after his first secretary left him in the lurch. The how-to binder had been much smaller then. He’d learned a lot from that three-week stretch.
Had Chloe even tried to follow his orders?
He put the phone down and rolled the chair back, ready to either lecture his daughter on safety or explain to his visitor that he wasn’t seeing clients that morning, but he’d be happy to make an appointment, when he heard a dog bark.
Inside his office. There was a dog inside his office.
He hurried around his desk and paused in the doorway to the reception area. His ears hadn’t deceived him. There, standing on the rug he’d bought because it matched the room’s tone of somber wealth, was...a dog. Big. Brown. Hairy. And happy, if the lolling tongue could be construed as an emotional display. The dog barked again and the woman—who had absolutely no hope of stopping it if the creature decided to make a break for it—shushed him. “Bub, be quiet. Use your inside manners.”
“Or better yet, take whatever manners you do or don’t have right back outside and away from the very expensive furnishings.” As soon as Will spoke, the woman and the dog both turned to stare at him. And both of them made it pretty clear what they thought of his directive.
The dog sat. The woman propped one hand on her hip. Will waited.
“Bub is well-trained, an obedience school graduate.” She ran a hand over the dog’s head, and Will was pretty sure he saw the dog wink.
Of course the dog didn’t wink. They didn’t teach winking in obedience school.
Did they?
Will shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. This is a place of business, so unless he’s a service animal, please take him out.”
“You were chased by a dog as a child, weren’t you?” the woman asked. Then Will realized who was invading his office with a canine in tow as if she had every right to do so. Sarah Hillman, homecoming queen and queen of mean to every outcast at Holly Heights High. He should’ve known—his junior year he’d developed a sixth sense to warn him when she was in the vicinity. Obviously, if he didn’t use his Hillman radar for more than a decade, he lost it.
“I’m not accepting any new clients at this point,” he said. Not even if she was the daughter of the richest man in town and he could use the business. Will walked a wide circle around the dog, who hadn’t moved a single inch, and held the door open for them. “And I’m too busy to make small talk.”
Sarah put her hand on the dog’s head and looked down at him for a minute. Will was pretty sure he was going to win this encounter. It was a weird feeling. At seventeen, he’d been happy to escape her notice. Now he wanted her to look right at him while she digested that bit of information.
Then she straightened her shoulders, smoothed the skirt of her red dress and shifted in the sky-high heels that made her legs look as if they belonged on the silver screen. The brands weren’t important. If Sarah Hillman was wearing it, it was expensive. And now that Will wasn’t afraid of social suicide, he could see the way her face changed when she was about to hit him with the full force of her personality.
Her red lips curved up and she tilted her chin. He watched her lick her lips and run a red nail around the curved neck of her dress. “Come on, Will, won’t you even give me a chance to tell you how much I need your help?”
For