Dr. Madison glided toward the door. “I would hope so. Until that time, I should inform you I’ll be discussing alternative firms with our Board of Directors. Or maybe just different accountants.” She headed down the hallway toward the elevator.
“Ignore her,” Dr. Phillips whispered with a wink. “She should be returning to DC any day.” He shook Josie’s hand in a warm grip.
Josie walked him to the elevator. If Dan had just stolen her client, she’d beat him senseless. He’d get the promotion for sure if that had just happened. Doubt swirled in her brain. There was no doubt most of them would lose clients now… everyone except Daniel. She shook her head at the bizarre thought. Now she was seeing conspiracies everywhere.
With a huff, she returned to her office, where Vicki still attempted to put everything into order.
“Josie,” Tom said, striding from the reception area to grab her arms. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She looked up to his frowning face. “I’m fine. They destroyed the entire floor, though.” And she may have just lost her biggest client to his basketball buddy.
He stepped back, running a rough hand through his thick brown hair. “I just heard. The police are on my floor asking if anyone noticed anything.” His sigh stirred the air with mint. “You worked late last night, and I was afraid—”
“No, no.” She reached out to grab his strong arms. “I was long gone. Really. I’m fine.” He was such a good guy. Why couldn’t she have felt more for him? “I appreciate the concern, though.”
He nodded, his eyes narrowing. “How did you get to work? Did the police bring you?”
“No.” She hated lying to him. “The police found my car and returned it to me.”
He stepped back. “Did you say a while ago that Dean stole your car?”
A blush crept up her face, heating her skin. “No. I said I let him borrow it.”
“Josie.” Tom shook his head, his lips tightening. “Dean’s dangerous. You know it. Break free now, before it’s too late.” Concern deepened the lines that bracketed his mouth.
Josie forced a smile. “I have. He’s gone.” The lie nearly stuck in her throat all the more now that she knew there was no possibility of a future with Tom. Right or wrong, she’d always love Shane.
Tom sighed, reaching out to run a finger down the side of her face. “I care about you. Let me help.”
Tom. So solid and strong. She stepped back this time. “I’m a big girl. Thanks for the concern, though. It really does mean the world to me.”
“Hey, boss,” Vicki interrupted from her perch by Josie’s phone. “You have about thirty messages. Word has gotten out, and clients need reassurance.”
Josie nodded. “I have to go, Tom.”
His smile was tinged with sadness. “I know. Bye, Josie.”
*
By seven that evening, Josie’s head pounded, her feet ached, and she’d bitten her nails to the quick. She needed a manicure, bad. She’d met with five clients and spent the rest of the time on the phone reassuring others that their financial information was safe. Hopefully.
She tightened her grip on the handset of the telephone. “I understand that, Mr. Larson.” First Billy screwed up their deductions and now this. “You need to understand, I had your file with me last night. The people who destroyed our offices didn’t get any of your information.”
“I have your assurance on this?” The man’s tone quickened in agitation.
“Of course.” She sighed. “We should probably meet next week and go through the documents.” There was a good chance Larson might sue the CPA firm once she brought Billy’s mistakes to his attention. He’d probably win. “I’ll call you soon to set something up.” She hung up after tense good-byes.
She grabbed the manila files to drop off at The Pound, a local bar she hoped would keep her as its accountant. The owner had been quite concerned about the breakin, and she’d spent fifteen minutes reassuring him via the phone. She’d also promised to drop by the notes she’d jotted down for creating a new benefits plan for his employees.
Her cell phone buzzed and she read the screen. Shane waited outside. Time to go. He’d assured her they’d only have to stay at the motel for a couple more nights, and then she could go home. Apparently he thought he’d be able to find out who was after him by then.
Would he want to stay at her home then? Did she want him to? The question really came down to whether or not she trusted him, and whether or not he wanted to try to make it work. How could they do either until his memories returned? Her head started to ache.
Grabbing her files and handbag, she hurried toward the elevator, waving at Johnston in his office as she passed. Man, he was angry. Nobody messed with his clients.
The elevator rode smoothly to the bottom floor. She dodged outside into the chill of dusk, and she tightened her coat, taking a deep breath. The scent of decaying leaves contrasted with the vibrant orange hue of leaves still on tree branches.