Carla Neggers - The Cabin

“Susanna, do you mind if I speak frankly?”

Susanna sat on one of the chairs, the sky outside her tall windows gray and gloomy. She’d worked at her computer most of the day. She smiled at Tess. “Since when would it make any difference if I minded?”

Tess didn’t return her smile. “Your computer’s dusty,” she said.

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?”

“It’s part of a larger pattern.” Tess leaned forward, holding her latte in both hands. “It’s like your brain’s gone inside your computer and won’t come out. It can’t. It’s all filled up with numbers and money things.”

“Money things?”

“Investments, annual reports, interest rates, bond prices—God only knows what. I’ll bet you know to the penny what each of your clients is worth.”

Susanna took no offense. “That is my job, Tess.”

She shook her head, adamant. “You go beyond what the average financial planner would do.”

“Good. I’d hate to be an ‘average’ financial planner.” Susanna glanced over at her desk, her monitor filled with numbers, which was probably what had unnerved Tess. “I want to be very above average.”

“You see? You’re driven. You’re a perfectionist. It’s causing you to lose perspective on the rest of your life.” Tess set her jaw, aggravated now. “Damn it, I’m making a good point here. Your life is out of balance.”

Susanna slid to her feet and walked over to the table where she had her coffeemaker, a tin of butter cookies, pretty little napkins and real pottery mugs for herself and her clients. “I’ve hired a part-time assistant,” she said. “She comes in two mornings a week.”

“You should have at least two people working full-time for you. You told me so yourself last fall.”

“Did I?”

“Yes, you did.”

Susanna poured herself a half cup of stale, grayish coffee and turned back to her friend. “All right, I’ll dust my computer. Promise.”

Tess groaned. “You are so thick.”

“Hey, that’s my line. That’s what I tell Jack—”

“There. Jack.” Tess set her latte on an antique table Susanna had picked up at an auction, a nice contrast with the more contemporary pieces. Balance, she thought. If Tess approved, she didn’t say. She narrowed her blue eyes on Susanna. “You haven’t told him how much you’re worth, have you?”

“Why would I? He pays attention to money even less than you do.”

“Susanna, you have to tell him!”

Susanna returned to her desk, feeling stubborn now that they were talking about her husband. “Why?”

“He’s going to find out, you know. That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? He’s a guy’s guy. He might not like having his wife sneaking around making millions.”

“It’s his money, too.”

“Uh-huh. And he’s a Texas Ranger. You’ve always said it’s all he’s ever wanted to do, even when he was at Harvard. Suppose he’ll think you’ll want him to quit?”

Susanna frowned. “I’d never tell him what to do, anymore than he’d tell me.”

“Yeah, what about all the other Texas Rangers? What will they think if one of their own’s suddenly worth eight million?”

“Ten,” Susanna corrected.

“Ten million? Damn, Susanna. Maybe it’s time to hire bodyguards—or make peace with your husband. Talk about armed and dangerous.”

“Nobody knows how much I’m worth. You, my accountant and my attorney.” Susanna could feel her heart pounding, but she kept her tone breezy, as if none of this really bothered her. She knew Tess wasn’t fooled. “It’s not as if I’ve radically changed my lifestyle.”

“Moving to Boston, buying a cabin in the Adirondacks. That’s not radically changing your lifestyle?”

Susanna dropped onto her chair in front of at her computer. “I was only worth five million when I left San Antonio.”

Tess swooped to her feet. “God, you’re impossible. If you get kidnapped and held for ransom, don’t expect me to come here and figure out how to fork over the money.” She hoisted her microfiber satchel onto her shoulder. “I’ve got to run. I have one more devil of a client meeting.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Susanna, please—you’ll think about what I said?”

“Tess, you know I will—I appreciate your concern. Thanks for stopping by.”

“Come up sometime. Bring the girls. I know it’s winter, but the ocean’s still beautiful.”

After Tess left, Susanna stood at the tall, arched windows overlooking historic Old Granary Burial Ground, snow drifting against its thin, centuries-old tombstones. No radical changes in her life. Who was she kidding?

Tess was right.

As if to prove her point, the doorman buzzed her and announced Destin Wright was there to see her. Susanna dropped back onto her desk chair and felt an instant headache coming on. She’d been putting Destin off for days. She sighed. How could telling her husband about ten million dollars and a murder suspect showing up in their kitchen be any harder than dealing with Destin Wright? She said into the intercom, “Send him up.”

He would take the old elevator, she knew, not the stairs, and he’d find a way to irritate her within twenty seconds of arriving in her office. She got up and unlocked the door, just so she wouldn’t have to let him in.

He didn’t knock. He pushed open the translucent glass door and grinned at her. “Yo, Susanna. How’s it going? Was that Tess I just saw leaving the building?”

“Yes, she stopped in for a visit—”

“I wasn’t invited to her wedding, you know.”

Susanna felt the blood pulse behind her eyes. “Destin, you and Tess aren’t even friends.”

“What? We grew up together.”

“You’re ten years older than she is.”

“So?”

Susanna gave up. Destin Wright had grown up on the next street over from her grandmother’s house, never, apparently, making a secret of his desire to get out of the neighborhood at his first opportunity. He was in his mid-forties and fit the stereotype of the preppy Harvard grad with his blond good looks, except he’d quit a local junior college after one semester. He’d started an Internet company a few years ago and made millions, then went broke almost overnight. He’d had a fun idea, but no real business plan, no profits—and wildly expensive tastes. Now he wanted to start over. With Susanna’s help.

“Destin...”

He held up a hand. “No, wait. Hang on. I’m not here to pester you about money.” He grinned sheepishly, as if he’d known he’d pushed her too far with his various comeback schemes. He was charming, energetic and incredibly self-centered, with a sense of entitlement that knew no bounds. He had on an expensive camel coat left over from his high-on-the-hog days. “I just wanted to tell you I followed your advice and wrote up a business plan. The whole nine yards.”

“Good for you, Destin.”

He scratched the back of his neck, eyeing her. “I was thinking you could take a look at it. As a favor.”

Susanna shook her head, adamant. “You know I’m not getting involved in this project. I’ve told you. This isn’t what I do, even if I thought it was a good idea to help out someone from Gran’s neighborhood.”

“One little look?”

“No. I’m sorry. I can recommend people—”

“I can’t pay anyone. Come on, Suze, you know the score. I need to do a deal, barter a little. I’ve downsized as much as I can. Hell, I’m about to have my BMW repossessed.”

How he’d ever pulled together the attention span and backing to start a company in the first place was beyond Susanna. Luck, guts, flare, charisma, just enough skill. If he’d come to her sooner, she might have been able to help him save some of his personal wealth when the dot-com craze came crashing back to earth, but the same relentless optimism that had drawn Destin Wright into starting a risky business made him stick with it too long. He just hadn’t seen the bottom coming. When he hit, he hit hard.