Page 3 of Reclaimed
Stephan’s kisses usually soothed my nerves, but something about this whole situation felt off. I wrapped my arms around myself and hurried back out to the back porch.
“What’s going on?” Cassidy asked. She darted away from the group of shifters she was talking to and pulled me into the backyard. “Are the cops here? Should we be making a run for it?”
“We’re not in high school anymore, Cass,” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah, but I’m still not supposed to be drinking this!” She dumped the rest of her drink off the porch.
“Steph said it’s probably a noise complaint. I’m sure he’ll send the cops on his way, then we can get out of here.”
“I don’t know,” Cassidy said. “This feels kind of serious.”
It did to me, too… I just didn’t want to admit it.
“Maybe we should go back to your mom’s,” Cassidy said.
The back door slid open, and Blakely stepped out onto the porch. “Hey, Harley? Can I talk to you? Privately?”
“Huh?” Blakely had never spoken so nicely to me—hell, I don’t think she’d talked to me at all over the summer. But now, her eyes were soft, and her brows were pulled together with concern. I glanced at Cassidy, and she shrugged.
“It’s important,” Blakely said. “It’s about Ace.”
I took a step back. “What?”
“Harley… Ace has been lying to you.”
1
HARLEY
“So, if you’ll take a look at these graphs here, you’ll see that despite the major dip last year, our profits have been climbing pretty consistently…”
I sighed and leaned forward to look at the wrinkled printouts the client was pushing across my desk. If I were in his position, gunning for an increased loan for a ceramics business that was clearly failing, I wouldn’t have opened with these numbers. Couldn’t tell him that, though—not without my boss’s permission. I had a pretty high-ranking job at the bank, hence the corner office with the window, but that unfortunately put me in the position of handling clients like these.
“I’d love to see a copy of your most recent annual report,” I said.
“Annual report?” The guy scowled. “What for? I’ve provided you with enough information already. It never used to be this difficult to get an increase on my credit line!”
Bzz. Bzz.My personal phone vibrated from its hidden place in my top drawer. I glanced toward it. There were only a few numbers programmed to bypass my phone’s do-not-disturb mode.
“Well, that was before you increased it three times in a row,” I said with a smile.
My phone stopped buzzing. The client began rifling through his briefcase, grumbling to himself. Moments later, the buzzing started again. With the client still digging around, I opened my top drawer and glanced at the screen. Cassidy. She knew I always had back-to-back meetings on Tuesdays. If she was trying to reach me, it had to be really important.
“If you don’t have a copy of the report on hand, I’d be happy to continue this meeting via email,” I said.
“What? Email?” he sputtered. “These kinds of conversations should always be done face-to-face?—”
“And you’re more than welcome to make an appointment once you have the proper documentation,” I said kindly. “Now, I apologize, but I have another meeting to prepare for.”
“Now, Miss”—he glanced at the nameplate on my desk—“Harley, that’s not acceptable. I need that increase today.”
“I’m sorry,” I said with a sweet smile. I hated it when clients used my first name so casually. I’d dealt with demanding small business owners like this guy for the bulk of my career. At this point, it was like managing pouty toddlers. “Once we get that documentation, we’ll continue the conversation. Thank you so much for coming in.” I stood and walked around my desk. I shook his hand, and used the handshake to guide the protesting man out the door.
With the door closed and my office blissfully quiet, I dropped back into my desk chair and pulled my phone out. Cassidy wasn’t the only call I’d received. The other number was, unfortunately, a little too familiar. Dylan’s school.
Massaging my temples, I called the school back.
“Miss Founty?”
