Unfinished Business. Cat Schield

me worry about anything,” Hailey complained. “Not how we were going to get by after Aunt Jesse took off, not paying for college, not anything.”

      “I’m your big sister. It’s my job to take care of you.”

      “I’m twenty-six years old,” Hailey asserted, her tone aggrieved. “I don’t need you to take care of me anymore. Why won’t you let me help?”

      “You already helped. You graduated from college with straight As and got a fabulous job at one of Houston’s top CPA firms. You pay for half the groceries, do almost all the cooking and even your own laundry.” Rachel grinned to hide the way her mind was already furiously working on a solution to the Brody problem. “I couldn’t ask for more. Besides, once I pay Brody the money, he’ll be out of our lives once and for all.”

      “But how are you going to come up with the money?”

      “I’ll try to get a bank loan. They might not have been willing to loan me money four years ago when I was starting up, but Lansing Employment Agency has a profitable track record now.”

      Perched on a guest chair in the loan officer’s small cubicle, Rachel knew from the expression on the man’s face what was coming.

      “Economic times have hit us hard, Ms. Lansing.” For the last four days she’d been listening to similar rhetoric, a broken record of no’s. “Our small business lending is down to nothing. I wish I had better news for you.”

      “Thank you, anyway.” She forced a smile and stood. A quick glance at her watch told her she’d run over her allotted hour lunch break.

      This morning she’d wired her twenty-five thousand dollar nest egg to her lawyer with instructions to give the money to Brody. For the last five years, she’d been paying him ten thousand a year, double what she’d agreed to in their divorce settlement. Reimbursement for a debt she didn’t owe. Punishment for divorcing him. No, Rachel amended, punishment for marrying him in the first place.

      Returning to the Case Consolidated Holding offices, she slid into her desk and shoved her purse into a bottom drawer a second before Max’s scowl peered at her from his office.

      “You’re late.”

      Rachel sighed. “Sorry. It won’t happen again. Did you need something?”

      “I need you to be at your desk for eight hours.”

      She tried again. “Something specific?”

      “Get Chuck Weaver on the phone. Tell him I needed his numbers three hours ago.”

      “Right away.”

      As she was dialing, her cell started to ring. Since Chuck wasn’t answering, she hung up without leaving a voice mail and answered her mobile phone.

      Brody’s voice rasped in her ear. “Did you get the money?”

      “I wired twenty-five thousand to my lawyer this morning.”

      “I said fifty.”

      Demanding bastard. “It’s all I could get.” She kept her voice low to keep from being overheard. “You’ll just have to be happy with that.”

      “Happy?” He chuckled, the sound low and forced. “You don’t seem to get it. I need the whole fifty thousand now.”

      “I get it,” she said. “You’ve been on a losing streak.”

      She hadn’t known about his gambling until the second year of their marriage. A shouting match between him and his father clued her in to his destination when he vanished on the weekends. Frankly, she’d been disappointed. She’d thought he was having an affair. Had hoped he’d fallen in love with someone else and would ask for a divorce.

      “That’s none of your business.”

      “You need to get some help.”

      “You need to get me the rest of my money.” He disconnected the call.

      Rachel blew out a breath and pushed back from her desk. She had to clear her head. It wasn’t until she stood up that she realized someone watched her. Max wore an inscrutable expression, but his shoulders bunched, tension riding him hard. He had the sexy overworked COO look going today. Coat off, shirt sleeves rolled up and baring muscled forearms. She stared at his gold watch to keep her gaze from wandering to his strong hands, and her mind from venturing into the memory of how gently he’d caressed her skin.

      “Chuck Weaver wasn’t in his office,” she said, burying her shaking hands in her pockets. “I’m going to run to the ladies room. I’ll have him paged when I get back.”

      Max shut off her torrent of words with a hard look. “Come into my office. We need to talk.”

      At his command, Rachel froze like an inexperienced driver facing her first spinout.

      “Just give me a second,” she protested, her eyes shifting away from him as if looking for an escape.

      “Now.” Max strode into his office and waited until she entered before he shut the door, blocking them from prying eyes. “Who was that on the phone?”

      “No one.”

      “It sure sounds as if you owe no one a great deal of money.” Her evasion irritated him.

      He didn’t want to care if she was in trouble, but couldn’t ignore the alarm bells that sounded while he listened to her side of the phone call. With ruthless determination, he shoved worry aside and focused on his annoyance. The fact that she was in a bad spot wasn’t his concern. Her ongoing distraction from her job was.

      “You had no right to eavesdrop on my private conversation,” she returned, belligerent where a moment earlier, she’d been desperate and scared.

      He anchored one hand on the wood door to keep from launching across the room and shaking her until her teeth rattled. “You seem to forget whose name is on the door.”

      Her stubborn little chin rose, but she wouldn’t make eye contact.

      “It’s none of your concern.”

      That was the wrong thing for her to say. “When they’re calling here it becomes my concern.”

      Her defiance and his determination stood toe to toe, neither giving ground.

      She broke first. Her gaze fell to his wingtips. “It won’t happen again.”

      “Can you guarantee that?”

      With her hands clenched to white-knuckle tightness at her side, she pressed her lips into a thin rosy line. Her nonanswer said more than words.

      Frustration locked his vocal cords, making speech impossible. He sucked in a calming breath, keenly aware he was venturing into something that was none of his business. If he had an ounce of sense, he’d back off and let her deal with whatever mess she’d stepped in. Unfortunately for him, below his irritation buzzed a hornet of disquiet. He ducked the pesky emotion the way he’d dodge the stinging insect, but it darted around with relentless persistence.

      “Do you need help?” He wrenched the offer free of his better judgment. The ramifications of involving himself in her troubles were bound to bite him in the …

      “No.” Her clipped response matched his offer in civility and warmth.

      They glared at each other. Two mules with their heels dug in.

      He should be glad she’d turned him down. Instead, her refusal made him all the more determined to interfere.

      “Stop being so stubborn. Let me help you. How much do you owe?”

      Her eyes never wavered from his, but she blinked twice in rapid succession. “I don’t need your help.”

      “But I need things to run smoothly. I can’t afford for you to be distracted by money problems. I assume that’s what you’ve been dealing with on your extended lunch