She crossed her arms. “Because that’s what it sounds like, Reese. So if that’s where this is leading, you should tell me right now, because then I can have my resignation letter on your desk tomorrow morning.”
“That’s it,” he said. “That’s what you do. You get challenged the least little bit, and you want to quit.”
“Me? That’s a good one. I’m not the one—”
“Mom?”
Both of them turned toward the lanky blonde girl standing in the doorway with a curious look on her face. She had Corinne’s eyes. Shit. The daughter.
“What’s up, Peyton?” Corinne’s tone had changed. Lighter, sweeter. Concerned. She didn’t look at Reese.
“Are the cupcakes ready?”
“Yeah, honey. I’ll put them in the container for you and make sure they’re in the car for when I drop you off at school after the dentist.”
“Okay, good. I wanted to be sure you didn’t forget.” Peyton looked at Reese, then her mother.
“This is Mr. Ebersole. He bought the company I work for. He’s here to go over some paperwork.”
Peyton nodded, assessing him frankly in a way that reminded him so much of Corinne that he wanted to laugh, but didn’t. With a backward glance, she left the kitchen. Corinne looked at him.
“My oldest. She volunteered me for the bake sale.”
“You hate to bake,” he said.
Corinne’s brow furrowed. “You remember.”
“I remember a lot of things.”
“Yeah,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Me too.”
Chapter Fourteen
“You really think he came all the way to your house on a Sunday night just to talk to you about discrepancies in the files? C’mon, Corinne. There’s no way.” Caitlyn spread a thick layer of port wine cheese on a cracker and crunched it messily. Mouth full, she went on. “The guy buys and sells companies like trading cards. You think he can’t really tell when something is funky or not? Also, isn’t that what his assistant is supposed to do?”
Corinne stretched out her toes, wiggling them as she admired the polish. It had been a long, stressful week. Reese had not fired any of the current barn or production plant staff, but he’d had her start interviewing potentials for the positions she’d let go over the past year, as well as some others that had been formerly been filled by the board members. All of them had taken the payout she was beginning to wish she’d been offered.
“Maybe he’s trying to make you his new assistant,” Caitlyn said in a half-horrified voice.
Though it was Corinne’s weekend with the kids, Douglas had taken them to his nephew’s bar mitzvah. Corinne and her sister had planned to spend the entire Saturday giving themselves manicures and pedicures, drinking wine, and eating snacks while watching as many hours of their favorite TV show, Runner, as possible.
“Let’s watch season eight,” Corinne said, ignoring her sister.
“Eight? No. Eight’s the season we pretend didn’t happen.” Caitlyn shook her head. “That’s the season when the writers went on strike and they came up with that alternate timeline! How can you want to watch eight?”
Corinne laughed. “Okay, five.”
“Five’s good. Get that queued up; I’ll fill our glasses.”
Back in minutes with full wineglasses and some more snacks, Caitlyn settled into the couch next to Corinne. Both of them sang along to the opening theme song, which had no words, so they made up the lyrics randomly. They’d both seen most of these episodes at least three times already, so there was plenty of time to talk.
Caitlyn, Corinne knew, was going to keep circling back around to the subject of Reese unless she did the big sister thing and cut off baby sis at the pass. “So. What’s up with the new job? Any luck?”
“Ugh. Did Mom tell you to ask me that?”
“No. I just wondered how it was that you were able to make it out here for such an extended visit, that’s all. What happened with the last one, anyway?” Corinne sipped the wine, a Cabernet she’d picked up because the label had featured a mermaid with a sugar skull face. The empty bottle would join the others in a row along the top of her kitchen cabinets.
Caitlyn’s mouth twisted. “I got fired.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. Go ahead, you can say it. ‘Again?’”
“Again?” Corinne imitated her sister’s snide tone, then softened her voice. “Kid, what happened?”
“I got caught three times without covering up my piercing.” Caitlyn pointed to the delicate jewel in her nostril. “It was against corporate policy. I didn’t want to take it out, so they had me wearing these little round adhesive bandages that were always falling off. That’s all.”
“Sucks.” Corinne shrugged. “So, you’re looking for something else?”
Caitlyn took a long, slow sip of wine and then bent forward to riffle through the plastic bin of nail polishes. She plucked out a bottle of sparkly crimson and held it up. “Yeah. Of course. Sure. Eventually.”