For the Love of Summer

Chapter 10

Gail, Peter’s office manager, had been difficult to pin down but Erica had finally convinced her to meet by bribing her with a free facial. Or, as Erica had put it, “We have some new products we’re using. I’d love to get your thoughts. Any interest in being a beta tester for us? Of course the facial will be complimentary.”

Gail had gone for it and was now seated in the small conference room at the back of the Bellevue store. The space was generally used for vendor meetings or discussions between management and employees. Or in this case, finding out what had happened at Peter’s office.

“You’re not working for Peter anymore?” she asked, pouring the other woman tea from a lovely porcelain pot she’d picked up at a charity auction. “When Allison went to the office, no one was there.”

“What’s the point of anyone going in? The feds took all the computers and trashed the place.” Gail, a fiftysomething with graying hair and absolutely no sense of style, sniffed. “I hear Hillary is trying to do some work from home, but she’s the only one. Everyone else left. I walked out the day they arrested him. I left a letter of resignation on his desk.”

“Which he never saw,” Erica murmured, wondering about the timing.

“That’s not my problem. He’s the one who broke the law. If you ask me, he got what was coming to him.”

Erica had always thought of Gail as efficient and hardworking. If she had to guess, she would have said the other woman respected her boss. Obviously she would have been wrong on that account.

“It was a shock to find out he’s in jail,” she said, her tone neutral. “At least to me. Were you surprised?”

Gail’s thin lips pressed together. “I had my suspicions about what he was doing. People would come to the office. They didn’t look right.”

“In what way?”

“They weren’t regular clients. They’d ask to see him, but wouldn’t give anyone the name of their business. They looked—” she leaned forward “—shady.”

Gail was starting to get on her nerves, but Erica told herself to be patient. She needed information and as of right now, Gail was her best option.

“That must have made you uncomfortable. You understand the business world.” Erica offered a warm smile. “You’ve been Peter’s right-hand person for over a decade. He’d be lost without you.”

Gail shifted on her seat. “Thank you. I always tried my best. I’ve been handling people’s books for over thirty years. I know what’s legal and what isn’t. He got into some things.” There was another pause. “It’s her fault.”

Her? What her? “Excuse me?”

“The wife. Everything changed when he married her. I don’t know what he sees in her. She’s useless. Did you know she works in a grocery store?”

There was something in Gail’s tone that set Erica’s teeth on edge. What was wrong with working in a grocery store? People needed jobs and it was honest work.

“She has no ambitions, no training for anything, but he didn’t care about that. She was young and pretty enough, if you like the type. One second he’d met her, the next they were married and she was popping out babies. That’s when it all changed. He got into things.”

Erica was still wrestling with Gail’s assessment of Allison. Erica didn’t know Peter’s wife very well, but from what she’d seen, she was handling an incredibly difficult situation with a lot of grace. Gail seemed to be looking for the worst.

“Illegal things?” Erica asked, striving for a normal, friendly talk-to-me tone.

Gail nodded. “That’s when I found he was keeping two sets of books on certain clients. Plus, I saw him putting lots of cash into a safe he’d had installed. We don’t handle cash—not ever. He got nervous and snapped at everyone. I knew something was up.”

Erica suddenly understood what had happened. “You’re the one who turned him in.”

Gail stiffened, color rising on her cheeks. “What? Why would you think that?”

“Oh, I’m not saying I disagree with your decision,” Erica lied, wanting to get to the truth. “If Peter started down a dark path, you’d be the one to know.” She feigned concern. “How hard this must have been for you. You’d known him for years, trusted him, enjoyed working with him. Then he turned on you.”

Gail nodded vigorously. “It was exactly like that. I felt so betrayed. And to do it for her! He told me once he wanted to give her a better life. A big house and fancy cars. I wanted to say that wasn’t the important part of life, but it wasn’t my place.”

She picked up her tea. “And I didn’t state the obvious—that you were the only reason he had those things in his other life. You’d owned the house before you two married and there was a prenup on Twisted. You convinced him to start his own business, then paid all the up-front costs. He owes you everything, and then he left. Just like a man.”

Erica was more caught up in the fact that Gail knew so many personal details about her marriage. Had Peter told the other woman or had Gail used her trusted position to snoop into their private files?

Questions she wasn’t likely to get answered, she told herself. And they weren’t the point of the conversation.

“You mentioned Hillary was still doing some of the accounting work? Do you have her contact information?”

“I do.” Gail’s tone was grudging. “With the computers gone and the office shut down, there’s not much she can do.”

“Isn’t everything in the cloud? She can access it from there.”

“I suppose but I don’t know why she’d bother.”

Erica felt Gail was being difficult on purpose, but there was nothing to be done about her attitude. Erica needed to get in touch with Hillary and Gail was her best option.

“You and me both,” she said with a smile as she picked up her phone. “Her number?”

Gail gave it to her. “She’s not going to work for free, you know. The bank accounts are all frozen. There’s no way to get any money.”

“We’ll figure something out.” She rose. “Thank you, Gail. You’ve been very helpful. I look forward to your feedback on the facial.”

“I’m sure it will be nice.”

Erica walked her to the reception desk and checked her in, then excused herself. Once back in her office, she quickly called Hillary.

“Hello?”

“Hillary, this is Erica Sawyer, Peter’s first wife. I was hoping I could talk to you.”

“About what?”

Erica couldn’t read her tone, so had no idea what the other woman was thinking. Did she like Peter? Hate him? Hate her for reasons that had nothing to do with reality?

“As you know, there’s been some trouble at the office. I was told you’re still trying to work with clients, which is just amazing. Thank you for that. Peter has asked me to step in and help with the business as best I can.”

“Peter wants your help?” Her tone turned a little more friendly. “I didn’t know. Actually I don’t know anything. One second we were working, the next, the police were everywhere. They took everything, then they searched the place. I was afraid they wouldn’t let me leave with my handbag. I had to empty it and show them.”

“They were probably making sure you didn’t take a thumb drive with you.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Are you able to access the business accounts remotely?”

“Yes. I’m doing that from home. My little laptop is old, but I’m doing my best. It’s hard with the kids around, but I’m making it work.”

Her voice cracked. “I have to. Not just because I need the job, but also for Peter and Allison. They’re such good people. When my mom died, Peter let me take off as much time as I needed and Allison brought a few dinners. They don’t deserve this.”

Allison didn’t, Erica thought. But from all she’d heard, Peter had totally screwed up and was getting exactly what he’d earned.

She thought about all the accounting that needed to be done to keep his business running. One person couldn’t possibly do it by herself, and she doubted Hillary was a CPA, so there were legal limitations on some of the reports and filings. But she could do some things and right now that was better than nothing.

“Where do you live?” she asked.

“North Bend.”

A town just a few miles east. That could work, Erica thought.

“I can give you an office in my Issaquah salon. It’s not fancy, but it’s quiet and we can get you a direct phone line for clients to call. I’ll text you my IT person’s number. Tell her what you need. A new computer, probably a printer and scanner. She’ll have it waiting for you. In the meantime, email me the hours you’ve worked since Peter was arrested and I’ll cut you a paycheck. Moving forward, report your hours and I’ll cover you until—” Erica realized she didn’t have any idea how this would play out “—until we get the situation straightened out.”

Hillary’s breath caught. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. You have children to feed. Plus, Peter and Allison are family.”

She half expected to be struck by lightning for saying that, but fortunately the powers that be were busy elsewhere.

Hillary took down Erica’s email address, along with the info for her IT person. Erica gave the other woman her work cell number and the call quickly wrapped up. That done, she sent an email to her office manager in Issaquah to tell her what was happening. There were at least a couple of small empty offices that Hillary could use. As for paying her, well, that was annoying but inevitable. Plus now she could tell Summer how much she was handling. Maybe that would calm down her daughter.

Wishful thinking, she knew. Without someone in charge, Peter’s business would quickly spiral into disaster. Clients would find out their CPA was in jail and move elsewhere. Even if the charges were dropped, his firm would be significantly diminished and his income reduced. It would take years for him to recover, assuming he could.

She leaned back and thought about what Gail had said about his illegal activities. She had trouble reconciling that with the man she’d known. Or did she? After they’d split, she’d moved her accounting business to another firm. Within a couple of weeks, they’d discovered Peter had been skimming money from Twisted. No single amount had been huge but it had added up to over a hundred thousand dollars.

She’d been shocked and hurt by the revelation. That pain had quickly been followed by anger at her soon-to-be ex. She’d considered talking to a lawyer, but hadn’t wanted the mess that would create. At the time she’d assumed he was acting out of spite—trying to hurt her in a passive-aggressive way rather than confronting their problems head-on. Once she took her business away, he couldn’t get access to any accounts, so she hadn’t been worried about future theft.

But maybe she’d been wrong to think of his actions as a one-time thing. Maybe instead they’d been a statement of his character. Something she hadn’t seen in him at all. She wasn’t sure what that said about her judgment and she didn’t know what would happen next. But one thing she knew for sure—it was going to be one wild ride.

At this point in her pregnancy, pain was a constant companion. The longer shifts at the grocery store didn’t help. Worse, Allison knew she couldn’t keep them up much longer. Not when every day she got bigger and bigger. Standing put so much pressure on her joints and her back. But she needed the money.

She tried to shut down the familiar litany of worry and fear, but her brain refused to cooperate. Adding to her sense of discomfort was guilt. She felt awful for walking out on Peter when she’d visited him. They could have had a full two hours together, but she’d gotten upset and once she’d left, she hadn’t been allowed back in. Now she had to make another appointment and wait to be approved again. Not only did she miss Peter, she needed answers.

She sat across from Jackson on the living room floor, playing with several stuffed animals. In a few minutes she would start dinner, then wait for Peter’s call. At least she’d arranged for a calling card through a vendor that served the prison. She wouldn’t have to deal with the expense of a collect call every time.

“I’m thinking spaghetti,” she said, hoping it wouldn’t trigger too much heartburn. She had leftover chicken she could throw in, along with some steamed vegetables. It was a meal Jackson would eat and it was relatively healthy. These days she had to force herself to eat—for the sake of baby Bethany.

Someone knocked on the front door. Both she and Jackson looked up. Allison half waited for Summer to burst in, calling her happy “It’s me!” Only her stepdaughter had a game that day.

“Ugh.”

She tried to get to her feet, which was tough going. She grabbed the sofa arm and used that as leverage, then lumbered to a standing position.

“Can I help—”

Allison stared at the man standing on her porch. She’d never seen him before and, given a choice, she never wanted to see him again. He was big and mean-looking, with too many muscles and tattoos, and an air of menace. He had a big knife sticking out of his right boot.

“You Peter’s wife?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“I, ah, yes.”

He thrust a brown envelope at her. “He asked me to give this to you. It’s all there. You need to remember that. Tell him Cappy gave you every penny.”

As he spoke, he stared with such intensity that she instinctively stepped back. “Okay.”

He shook the envelope again. “Here. Take it. It’s for you.”

She took the thick package. “Thank you.”

He nodded and turned away. Only then did she notice the battered truck parked behind her Subaru. Seconds later, he drove down the street. She was shaking when she closed and locked the door.

Her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing was ragged. How could Peter know a man like that? Okay, maybe he was nicer than he looked, but he’d scared her. Worse, he knew who she was and where she lived.

She glanced down at the envelope in her hand. When she lifted the flap, she saw hundred-dollar bills. Lots of them. She hurried to the kitchen table, where she dumped them out and began to count.

Seconds later, she was ten thousand dollars richer than she’d been five minutes before. Ten thousand dollars! She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t know where the money had come from and despite everything, couldn’t bring herself to care. While she still didn’t have proof of income for an apartment, this covered all her other expenses. She could pay the minimum on the credit card and keep that going. She could pay for medical insurance through Bethany’s birth. She could afford diapers and gas and still have money for any emergency.

She sank into a chair and gave in to tears. Jackson walked over. She pulled him close and hugged him.

“It’s okay,” she said, doing her best to smile. “I’m just tired. Everything is going to be okay.”

She had resources—at least for the moment, and as long as she didn’t think about the fact that in less than two months she would be homeless, then she had a lot to be grateful for.

Summer’s game had been called on account of weather, but not before everyone got soaked. Erica peeled off her wet jeans and hung them over the tub in her bathroom. She was damp and shivering. It felt like one of those nights when she would never get warm.

She replaced her wet underwear with dry panties, then slipped on thick leggings and a pair of Uggs. The fleece lining would eventually warm her feet. She’d already put on a cashmere sweater over a long-sleeved T-shirt. She didn’t bother with her hair. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight—it could dry as weird as it wanted. She was about to walk out of the bathroom when she heard music over the house’s sound system. The opening beats of Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust” made her smile.

“Oh, Mom, you do have your fantasies.”

Practical Magicwas one of her mother’s favorite movies and she was forever trying to recreate the scene where the adult characters all danced together in the kitchen. Their song of choice had been something about a lime and a coconut. Mara had chosen the Queen song for their dance party. So far only she and Erica were drinking the margaritas, but Mara was counting the days until Summer could join them.

Erica found her mother and daughter dancing together by the kitchen island. She joined them, laughing and singing along. The ingredients for margaritas were by the blender and burger fixings were on the island.

This was good, she thought, clapping her hands. This life with her family. Summer, cleaned up from her game, spun in a circle, her damp ponytail swinging out behind her. Erica stared at it.

“You cut your hair!”

The words came out louder and more forceful than she’d intended. It didn’t help that the song ended at that exact moment, leaving the kitchen silent.

Mara avoided her gaze while her daughter put her hands on her hips. “Oh, Mom, please. I asked Reese to cut off a few inches. It was getting too long. Don’t make a big deal about it. Come on. It’s just hair.”

Erica ignored the sense of rejection and dismissal that came with every conversation about her daughter’s appearance. Summer was basically a good kid, but she did seem to go out of her way to diss what Erica did for a living.

“You could have asked me or your grandmother,” she said, going for the judgment-free, conciliatory tone and falling a little short. “I’m sure Reese meant well, but the edges are uneven and you could use some layers.”

Summer rolled her eyes. “Really? Layers? I don’t do layers. I don’t care about my appearance. I’m not like you. I care about important things.”

The slap came out of nowhere. Erica stiffened. Before she could think what to say, her mother stepped between them.

“No,” Mara said sharply to her granddaughter. “Neither of us is willing to accept that kind of disrespectful attitude. If it makes you happy to not care about how you look, then go for it, but insulting your mother will not be allowed.”

Mara pointed at Summer. “It’s just hair? Is that what you said? It’s just hair? Well, young lady, the ‘just hair’ you dismiss is the reason you live in a nice house and have a car you didn’t have to pay for. It’s the reason you don’t worry about paying for college. It covers all the fees so you can be on your softball team. Your mother is a gifted businesswoman who built what she has from almost nothing. You claim you’re not interested in the beauty industry, that you want to study business. I’m not sure I believe a word you say. You have a living example right here in your own home and instead of appreciating that and trying to learn from her, you act like a rude little brat. I’m very disappointed in you.”

Erica blinked at her mother. For the most part, Mara didn’t get involved in disciplining her granddaughter, but every now and then she took charge. Today was yet one more excellent example of why you didn’t want to ever cross Mara Sawyer.

Summer seemed to crumple. “Grandma, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Tell the truth? Am I wrong about any of it?”

Summer’s lower lip quivered. “You were so mean.”

“So were you.”

Erica had to consciously keep herself from comforting her daughter. But she knew that would dilute the message.

“Grandma!”

Mara stared at her. “You’re welcome to run to your room and pout, or you can apologize and we can move on.”

Erica looked at her daughter. “I’d like you to stay.”

Summer rushed toward her. “Mommy, I’m sorry.”

Erica held her, smoothing her hand over her head. “For real?”

“Yes. I’m sorry for what I said. Grandma’s right. I was being a brat.”

Erica fingered the edges of Summer’s uneven hair. “Why do you hate layers?”

Her daughter laughed. “I don’t know but I do.” She raised her head. “I am sorry.”

“Then I forgive you. Ready for burgers?”

Summer smiled. “I’m starving.” She stepped back. “Can I help with the grill?”

Mara moved to the cooktop and ignited the burners. “Go wash your hands, please.”

Summer hurried down the hall to the half bath. Erica watched her go, then moved close to her mom.

“Thanks for coming to my defense.”

“I don’t usually, but every now and then she pisses me off and I can’t hold back.”

Erica smiled. “That’s a good flaw. When you’re on a tear, you scare us all.”

“I’m happy to know I still have it in me.”

Erica collected sliced cheese for the burgers, along with condiments. Summer returned and, under her grandmother’s supervision, lowered the burgers onto the heated grill.

Order had been restored, Erica thought. At least for now. But even with the apology, her daughter’s comments still stung.

When her daughter had been little, she’d assumed that Summer would grow up and join her in the business. She’d loved playing with her daughter’s hair and dressing her like a princess. But that wasn’t who Summer was, and she was the antithesis of being interested in Twisted. Something that would make Peter happy. He’d won that battle.

Given that he was still in jail, it was unlikely he was enjoying the victory and she was just petty enough to take a little pleasure in that.