Page 4 of Valentine's Day Proposal

“It’s exciting. All we need is a bit more capital and we’re there.” Mel’s face beamed as her glossy red lips curved upward into a smile. I admired her ability to think positively in every circumstance.

The company had been growing in leaps and bounds but branching out into an entirely different city was risky. Make that another state and it was even riskier. I wasn’t quite ready to leap yet. We knew how to market well; that much was clear. But there was the aspect of location, the overhead, and staffing. It was a hurdle I wasn’t sure I wanted to hop over yet. Not without more support.

“Yes, well we have a bit to go, but I do see us expanding soon.” I straightened in my seat and noticed a gentleman with gray-laced sandy blond hair walk in. He wore a tweed sport coat with patches on the elbows and tan corduroy slacks and looked like a nosy member of the press here to poke around. Mel noticed where my eyes were and turned to watch the man advancing toward my office.

Sherise, the secretary, had gone home for the evening, leaving only Mel and me. She started working for me right at the start, my first LPA. Most states had done away with the term—license public accountant—in favor of the new-fangled term. I had gotten my degree and become a certified public accountant, and after that opened my firm. Mel helped me build from the ground up, including painting the walls in the first building we rented, to cover old water stains and seal in mold. A far cry from the neutral tones and leather upholstery of this office. We’d really grown as a company.

She was as close of a thing to a best friend as I had, but she had designs on me which I could never return. It was a shame, because she was a beautiful woman and she deserved to find love in someone who could reciprocate it.

“He looks interesting.” Mel slid off the desk and straightened her blue pencil skirt. I rose to stand next to her as the gentleman entered my office, a soft smile on his face.

“Can we help you? We’re almost ready to close shop for the day.” I strolled around the end of my desk and thrust my hand out to him. “Willow Suthers, CPA.”

The man, probably in his 50s at least, extended his hand and gripped mine firmly. “Peter Bennet.” He smiled as he shook my hand.

“What can I do for you Mr. Bennet?” I gestured at the chairs adjacent my desk and made my way back to my seat. Mel stood dutifully behind me, a sentry guarding the interaction. I sat and waited for the gentleman to make himself comfortable. He seemed poised, confident, as if he had come with a plan and it was well underway.

“Well, Ms. Suthers, I came hoping you could help me with something. In fact, the proposition I have would be beneficial to both of us, I believe.” He folded his hands in his lap as he crossed one leg over the other and leaned to the side slightly. My grandfather always sat like that when he spoke to me. It made me smile when I thought of it.

“Apologies, Mr. Bennet, this is Melody Abshire, the office manager and LPA. Do you mind if she sits in?”

I heard Mel shift and Peter’s eyes drifted upward toward her face. Then he looked back at me. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Please, continue.”

It wasn’t often we got prospective clients who called their work a “proposition” so I was curious at this point. And we weren’t in the business of turning people away, so I was also eager to hear how we might strike a deal.

“Well, as you know, it’s political season.” He sat straight up, placing both feet firmly on the ground, and the minute he did I realized this was not an average meeting with a client who needed someone to do the books. My brain raced as he continued talking about the importance of voting for the right candidate, and how that candidate needed to be trustworthy.

I thought of the name Peter Bennet. It was so familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Mel must have sensed my tension, because she laid her hand on my shoulder and it calmed me. Was this man wanting someone to do books for a candidate? My heart fluttered. That would be an amazing score. Not only would it be excellent for publicity, but I could make a killing off a job like that. So, I tuned my ear to his rambling about our nation's legislative process and blah, blah, blah.

“So, you see the importance of having candidates the voters can trust.” He clapped his hands then leaned forward, elbows on knees.

“Yes, I see that.” I hadn’t really paid attention, but I did agree that I would never vote for someone I couldn’t trust.

“Good.” He grinned. “Because I have worked for some of the greatest senators and congressmen in recent years as their campaign manager.”

My heart started to shrivel a little, wondering where this was going. Images of Charles seated on that damn stage next to Savannah Guthrie made vomit appear in the back of my throat.

“I also represent Mr. Charles Andrew Perish, conservative candidate for the 24thdistrict in the state of Maryland.”

As soon as the words left his mount, Mel’s grip on my shoulder tightened. She knew every rotten thing Charles had done to me. The name alone was enough to cause waterworks, but I held my composure as he kept talking.

“I’m here because Mr. Perish has fallen in the polls a bit, and we’d like to boost him back up. We have several ways to go about this, but I have an idea that the entire campaign committee thinks might work perfectly.”

I started to grow irritated with the man. Did he think that I wanted to help Charles win the race? Or was he here because they wanted to make sure I didn’t smear him in the public eye and ruin his chances. What would I have to say about him anyway? Charles had been just about as straight as they come. To my knowledge he had no dirt or anything that might cause embarrassment. Nothing except the way he trashed my heart.

“I’m sort of intrigued as to why you think I can help? I haven’t spoken to Charles in almost seven years.” Mel’s grip did not loosen as I spoke, a reassurance I’d have to thank her for later. She knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.

“Well, I’m glad you asked. See, it appears that voters prefer a candidate to represent them who understands their position. In the 24thdistrict to be more specific, we have families, working couples, and most importantly parents. There isn’t much we can do about the parent bit, but we are hoping we can fix the rest. You know, make Charles a lot more likable and trustworthy to voters as a whole.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. I wasn’t sure what he was saying. Charles had a family. His father was an outstanding judge, his mother an ethics professor. That had to count for something in the polls. What else could the voters want? Charles had a clean record, a spotless reputation, and a perfect family.

“I’m not following what you’re saying.” I sat straighter, finding I had slunk down in my seat a bit, probably when Peter spat out Charles’s name as if the man hadn’t destroyed me emotionally.

He sat back in his seat, crossing his leg again. The look he gave me was more like he was feeling me out, discerning what he had to say to get me to buy his cart of crap he was selling.

“Well, Ms. Suthers, what I’m saying is we need Mr. Perish to be married. The voters expect it, and they will look on him more favorably if he is.”

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