Devlin inhaled deeply and cocked his head. “That’s deep.”
Phillip snorted. “Tell me about it.” But that was his ongoing problem. He’d let her leave yesterday without forcing a conversation. In college, he should’ve chased after her instead of letting his pride keep him away. Even when he was a kid, Phillip was up to his eyeballs in everything he wasn’t supposed to do. That was what had landed him in wilderness camp. If he’d only behaved like the rest of the world wanted him to, his parents would still be alive.
An overbearing silence thundered as though his personal dark cloud threatened a storm over his head.
“We both know what that car means to me.” He swallowed hard and lowered his voice. “What I didn’t know”—he pressed the heel of his palm to the bat knob—“was what Ashley meant to me.”
***
There were few times that Ashley had been more appreciative of Mary Beth’s knack with numbers than that morning. One day, she would convince her best friend to take the big-shot job in DC, but for now, she appreciated Mary Beth doing her another countless favor.
“Hand me that one.” Mary Beth pointed with her fork.
“The syrup or the paperwork?”
“I have more than enough syrup.”
“That’s not possible.” Ashley eyed the mountain of paperwork stacked in neatly organized piles on the dining room table, thanks to Mary Beth. She passed the papers and watched her best friend polish off the last of her pancakes before paging through the pile.
“I never thought I’d be grateful for Bitsy.” Mary Beth highlighted several lines with a yellow marker. “But I am.”
Bitsy had provided everything Ashley needed for the meeting with The Laumet Society’s insurance agent, Mr. Van de Molen.
Deductibles? That had seemed easy enough. But then the nitty-gritty fine print turned to gibberish. Actual cost versus replacement costs, value versus price. Ashley had a fantastic education, but general nonprofit liability clauses and exceptions made her head spin.
Mary Beth, on the other hand, found that stuff fun. She inhaled what was covered, what was not, deductibles, caps, and more terms and conditions than Ashley could shake a pancake at.
“The Laumet Society has really great coverage,” Mary Beth added, handing Ashley a form. “This is going to be easy.”
“Uh-huh.” Ashley finished chewing and read the header.Itemized Donation List.“I suppose that’s relative.”
Mary Beth snorted. “Then we better get to work.”
Two hours, Ashley was as well-versed in what they’d lost as she could be, and Mary Beth had earned more favors than Ashley could ever pay back.
The doorbell rang, and her stomach dropped. She couldn’t figure out why her nerves had been so anxious—well, she had a small clue that she hadn’t voiced out loud yet. Insurance meant litigation. Litigation against the Blackthornes meant problems. Their lawyers had lawyers, and the pool of funds to pay monstrous hourly wages was never-ending. In theory, or at least in her imagination, the charity fund-raiser had the ability to bankrupt The Laumet Society, particularly since she’d run from the Blackthorne who seemed intent on pushing her buttons.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Vault should’ve been a safe place. Phillip had spent countless hours in the bar. It was an extension of his family, much like the distillery around back. But today, with a scheduled appointment in a public place with Ashley, the familiar dark-paneled walls lined with bottles offered no comfort. He scanned the room and saw her seated at a side table with a drink and notebook at hand. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, giving Phillip a look at her long neck. She had a sweet spot behind her ear and along her shoulder. Before he could stop the memory of conjuring goose bumps with the slide of his lips, he grinned.
But that wasn’t why they were there. He took a long breath and ambled across the Vault. His hand trailed the top of her high-back barstool chair as he offered a hello and took the chair across the small table. He’d resolved to have a professional meeting. Nothing would be awkward. His hands would stay on his side of the table. His mind would focus on the charity work. Phillip wouldn’t flirt or antagonize her. They wouldn’t bicker. And if he prayed hard enough, he wouldn’t think about giving her goose bumps for the remainder of their meeting.
“Thanks for meeting me.” Ashley tucked her elbows at her side, hiding her hands under the table.
“A public place seemed best.”
Her lips parted, and her long eyelashes fluttered as she blinked. Phillip hadn’t made it more than ten seconds into the conversation before making her react.
“I guess this is as legitimate of a place to work as you can manage,” she said.
He held up his hands. “The Vault isn’t to your liking?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Actually, no, beautiful. I don’t know what you mean. Alone at my home didn’t work well for you.” Damn, he did it again. But it was the truth. She was the living, breathing definition of beautiful.
Her cheeks pinked.