“I’m my father’s daughter, Mack. He was a thief and now I am one, too. My mother is a perpetual victim and I’ve just given my brothers money, not knowing what they are going to do with it. Buy drugs or guns, play blackjack, who the hell knows? I don’t ask and they don’t tell me. That’s the family I come from.”
“But it’s not whoyouare.”
“It’s not who you want me to be but yes, it is who I am,” Molly stated.
“I was supposed to have a meeting with Jameson, the day he had his brain episode,” Molly continued her explanation. “We were going to discuss the resort and I was going to tell him everything, come clean. I knew he would fire me. Stealing is the line you can’t cross with Jameson. I’d saved enough to rent an apartment, to pay for movers, to reestablish myself. I was going to break ties with my family, to start again...”
“But then he ended up in the hospital.”
“Yeah, and I’m back to where I was. I can’t tell him. I can’t afford to stress him out. But I will tell Jameson at some point, I have to.” Molly looked him in the eye, straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “You have Jameson’s full authority to act on his behalf, so what are you going to do?”
Mack lifted his hands, looking confused. “About what?”
“About me, you idiot! Are you going to fire me?”
“I am not firing you because you did something stupid when you were under pressure and were a kid! That’s between Jameson and you, Molly.”
Molly’s shoulders dropped and a little tension slid away. “Will you tell Grey and Travis?” she asked in a small voice.
Mack shook his head. “What part ofthat’s between you and Jamesondid you not understand, Mol?”
A curious combination of hope, relief and astonishment flowed through her. “I didn’t expect you to react like this, Mack. I expected—”
Mack waited for her to finish her sentence but when she just shook her head, he filled the silence. “You forget that I know you, Mol. I know who you are beneath your spreadsheets and your lists, your constant push for perfection—”
“The accounting system is far from perfect.”
“The accounting system is a freakin’ mess but that’s not on you. That was Jameson’s responsibility and Beth’s.” Mack stared at her before shaking his head. “She’s not only shitty at her job but she has questionable taste in men, too, if she’s dating your brother.”
Molly handed him a small smile. “You’re not wrong.”
Mack stood up and offered Molly a hand to pull her up. “I seldom am.”
Mack turned to walk off the deck but Molly’s hand on his elbow stopped his progress. He looked over his shoulder at her and raised his eyebrows.
She swallowed and rapidly blinked, trying to disperse the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Thank you. For believing in me.”
Mack touched her cheek with gentle fingers. “Oh, Mol. You are so damn tough on yourself.”
Molly’s eyes connected with his. “And you aren’t?”
“Touché. We are, in so many ways, our own worst enemies.” Mack held out his hand and Molly slid her fingers between his, feeling for the first time in forever, a little hopeful, optimistic.
Maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny chance the sky wouldn’t fall on her head.
Because Jameson’s office was next to hers and only thin drywall separated the two, Mack could hear everything that went on in Molly’s office. Well, not conversations but voice tones and types, and his door creaked every time the door to Molly’s office opened.
And that was all the damn time.
Nobody gave her much of a break. Every half hour someone was knocking on her door, asking her a question, demanding something from her.
How did she get any work done?
Hell, he was next door and the constant traffic in and out of her room disturbed his work and broke his concentration...
Mack leaned back in his chair and eyed the many piles of paper on his desk, floor and on the small conference table in the corner. He could not believe that Jameson had let the paperwork run away with him. How did Jameson pay accurate sales and use tax, income tax? How did he know whether he was paying creditors accurately, whether his invoices matched the deliveries?
He now realized why Molly had been so reluctant to allow him to look at the paperwork; she knew it would deeply offend his anally retentive, need-control-at-all-costs soul. And he also knew she felt embarrassed, felt that it was her fault that the accounting system was in such a mess. Molly had an overdeveloped sense of responsibility; if any blame was to be laid, he’d drop it at Jameson’s, and their useless bookkeeper’s, door. From his observations, it seemed Beth liked to do as little work as possible, but still collect her large paycheck.