Heart's Refuge. Cheryl Harper
as dangerous. Then he realized the unfamiliar feeling warming him from the inside was pleasure that she’d remembered his real name.
He shook his head and looked out the door. The dog stood up and peeked around the door frame as if to check on whatever Will was watching and then sat back down.
“Don’t you remember me? We went to high school together.” She reached over to tug on his sleeve. “You have time for an old friend, surely.”
Instead of jerking his arm away, Will snorted. That wasn’t the most elegant or dignified answer, but it was honest. And it surprised her. Another win.
“Sarah Hillman. I remember. What surprises me is that you can recall my real name. Beanpole Barnes would roll more naturally off your tongue.” She laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world and unbelievably Will wanted to laugh along with her. In high school, the nickname had been an embarrassing insult, but no one would think to use it now.
“I thought you’d go with Barn-door Barnes from that time you spent most of lunch with your zip...”
“Why are you still here?” Will asked. This walk down memory lane had already gone on for too long.
“We were kids. That’s what kids do.” She walked her fingers up his sleeve. “You’re no beanpole now. Time’s been good to you, Will Barnes.”
“Yeah, my sister’s doing pretty well, too. Maybe you remember her? Red hair? Lots of freckles? Cried more than once when you pointed them out?” He crossed his arms over his chest and the office was silent except for the chime of the door closing. “Raggedy Jen. Was that because of the red hair or her secondhand clothes, too?”
Sarah blinked and the calculations taking place in her brain showed in narrowed eyes and tightened lips. Then she ducked her head, folded her hands in front of her and said, “That was all in fun. You’ve got ten minutes. For me?” She stuck out her lower lip as she looked up at him.
“No.” The dog drooped to rest his chin on Will’s polished loafers. Two pairs of puppy dog eyes were nearly impossible to withstand. The second no was harder to get out, but he managed. Then he stepped around the dog. “Please leave.”
Will walked back into his office and closed the door firmly. He didn’t have to worry about Sarah Hillman running off with his carefully chosen knickknacks. He’d been trying to give the impression of good taste and old money. She had the old money.
He pressed his ear against the door to listen for the chime that would signal her defeat and retreat. Instead, he could hear angry muttering. He wanted to crack open the door to see her disappointment in living color but didn’t want to restart the conversation.
And he had work to do. Will had to admit, Sarah Hillman could probably help with that... Holly Heights was filled with signs saying Sponsored by Hillman Luxury Autos. Little League teams, the local stadium, the Fourth of July fireworks displays and every Christmas parade had been funded by Bobby Hillman. She’d be able to come up with a list of contacts.
But Will would go door-to-door through every street in the downtown area begging for recommendations before he asked for her help.
With a firm nod, he moved back around his desk and reached for his phone. Before he could dial the numbers, Sarah Hillman shoved open his door and followed her dog into his office.
His clean, orderly office now had a dog in it. And a beautiful brunette who was no longer begging in an attractive, manipulative sort of way. Now she was determined.
“Listen, I’m sure keeping track of Daddy’s money is exhausting, but I will not help you. Head over to Austin. There are lots of choices for portfolio management and you can add in lunch and a shopping trip. I’m sure there have to be spas somewhere.”
Instead of carefully considering the right face to try, Sarah marched over and planted her hand in the middle of his shiny desk.
“Don’t be that guy, Will. You have a chance to be the bigger person. Come on. Don’t you want to feel superior to me?” Nothing about her said she was faking or flirting or manipulating.
“If I wanted to feel superior, I wouldn’t have to try hard, Sarah.” Instead of the satisfaction he’d expected to feel at finally winning a verbal sparring match with her, he was almost instantly sorry for what he’d said, even if it was a pretty good last word.
“Well. You have done some growing up, haven’t you? Learned how to throw a punch.” She eased back. “Make sure you don’t go too far, kicking a girl when she’s down. Might make you a bully.”
He snorted. Again. He’d need to get a better handle on reactions like that.
“I’m sure you’re amazed that something isn’t going your way, but let’s call it my gift to humanity. You can take your dog and go. And I’ll get back to work.” He pointed at the computer. “You know what these are for, right?”
She pushed her shoulders back and propped a hand on her hip, using her curves and crazy-long legs to her advantage. It almost worked.
“Don’t bother. I can see through the manipulation now. That’s the gift of your high school education.”
Instead of turning away to stare at his computer screen as he wanted to, he watched her hands tighten into fists. “Fine. I heard about the lottery win and whoever is answering Rebecca’s phone refuses to let me talk to her. On the last call, they told me to come to you with any requests, so here I am. Could you please give me ten minutes to make a case for an appointment with Rebecca?”
“So, what? You want Rebecca to float you a loan until Daddy’s allowance arrives?” He swept a glance from the top of her shiny hair to the ridiculous shoes. “Doesn’t look like you need handouts.”
His inner nice guy was telling him he had ten minutes. That was the easiest way to get her out of his hair, pretend to listen.
Sarah ran her hand over Bub’s head. “No, but these guys do. Ten minutes, Will.”
Bub stretched forward to rest his chin on Will’s formerly spotless desk and sighed. Sarah had given up on manipulation to go for honesty, but Bub’s skill was impressive.
Will knew he was making a mistake, but sometimes mistakes were inevitable. “The clock is ticking. Make your case.”
SARAH COULD SEE the no on his face. Beanpole Barnes—Will—had grown into an attractive man. His starched dress shirt, silk tie and perfectly pressed slacks made it easy to believe he could be trusted with a fortune.
She couldn’t imagine what he thought of her own outfit. Only desperation could have convinced her to put on the best dress she had left, even if it was years out of fashion, to face someone who’d be happy to shoot her down while she held her hand out for money.
Begging. The sour taste in her mouth made it difficult to maintain her pageant smile.
But she had to do something or the animal shelter she’d funded for the past year would close, leaving innocent dogs and cats without a safe place.
Sarah could relate. As of this week, she’d moved her own suitcase into the shelter office.
The police had torn up her father’s house looking for evidence of embezzlement. Since she’d answered phones at Hillman Luxury Autos for years, and had seen no shady dealings, she knew they’d come up empty-handed.
But sneaking her father in—or herself out—while under the police’s watchful eye would be difficult. Until the Austin detective making her life miserable tracked her to the shelter, she had some breathing room.
And no one would care if the shelter was her home for a few days. After her father skipped town, the shelter’s manager had walked off the job. Donations had stopped. So had her paycheck and the payments her