Donna Hill - Deception

She felt the slow, steady warming that spread through her body and knew that it had nothing to do with the steaming water. And she wondered what it would have been like making love with Clint. How soon, if ever, would she know?

After a fantasy-filled half hour, Terri finally curled up into bed, sinking into the comfort of the freshly washed sheets. She reached for the book of poetry she kept by her nightstand, determined to ease away the last vestiges of tension and images of Clint.

Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, the ringing of the phone jarred her back to consciousness.

Annoyance replaced curiosity as she drowsily reached for the intrusive instrument.

“Hello?” she mumbled.

“Terri, it’s me, Lisa.”

“Lisa,” she groaned. “It’s late.”

“I know. But I got the info you wanted. I thought you’d be interested.”

Terri sat straight up in her bed. Please let it be good.

“Your Mr. Steele is, anonymously, one of the biggest individual benefactors that the Gateway Foundation has.”

The morning sun was barely up in the sky when Clint rose from his bed. He’d spent a torturous night, reliving what almost was. More times than he cared to count he’d reached for the phone to dial Terri’s number. Each time, halfway through dialing, he’d hung up. The next move was Terri’s. He’d put his cards on the table.

Pulling on a terry-cloth robe he padded across the bedroom and opened his dresser drawer. Rifling through his possessions, he pulled out a cutoff T-shirt and an old pair of shorts. Crossing to the closet, he selected a navy blue sweat suit and a pair of sneakers. Usually a brisk run around the park revitalized him and cleared his head.

An hour later he lay sprawled across his king-size bed, drenched in perspiration from his morning jog. His frustration was still alive and well.

Staring up at the stucco ceiling, his hands clasped behind his head, a slow smile of acceptance spread across his face. Terri was under his skin to stay, and no amount of jogging was going to change it.

Terri strode down the office corridor, looking neither left nor right. How could she have been so narrow-minded and gullible to be taken in by rumors and speculation? She should have gone along with her instincts in the first place. She smiled ruefully. There was no way that her senses could have been that far off base if they went into crisis every time she thought of Clint.

She closed her office door with a thud, tossing her briefcase on the desk, her coat shortly behind.

Her head ached from the hours of reading she had done after Lisa’s call. She’d forced herself to go through as many of the reports that she’d gotten from the library as she could before she’d fallen asleep. That, compounded with the company ledgers, was enough to keep her head spinning for weeks. But she had work to do, and it would begin with a process of elimination.

She reached for the phone and dialed Stacy’s extension.

Stacy picked up on the second ring.

“Stacy Williams, here.”

“Stacy, I need you in my office in an hour. In the meantime I want you to pull the accounting records for the past six months and compare them to the figures we came up with last night.”

“Sure. Anything else?”

“The sooner the better. I want to get that SOB out of here as soon as possible.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Thanks.”

Terri hung up the phone, then proceeded to unlock the file cabinet, retrieving the files that she had examined the previous night. The pages in front of her seemed to laugh at her naïveté.

She shook her head in disbelief. Powers, Inc., was on the brink of deep financial trouble, and she had let it happen. Her trusting nature had overruled her business judgment, and it had cost her dearly. For the past year she’d felt like a failure as a wife and then as a mother. All she had left was her business, and now even that was threatened.

No more.

She quickly crossed the office and went out into the small reception area. Andrea was just taking her seat.

“Good morning, Ms. Powers,” she greeted cheerfully, then changed her tone when she saw the thunderclouds raging in Terri’s dark eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“Not for long,” she responded. “I need you to get Al Pierce, the accountant, on the phone. Tell him to stop whatever he’s doing. I want him here within the hour, along with all of the records that have anything to do with Powers, Inc. Make sure that he understands that this is not a request. This is a command performance. If he gives you the slightest bit of a problem, put me on the line and I’ll handle him.”

“Yes, Ms. Powers,” she said meekly.

“Thank you. Oh, and as soon as Mr. Andrews arrives, send him into my office.”

Terri turned back toward her office before Andrea had a chance to respond.

Andrea couldn’t remember ever seeing Terri this angry before. This must be serious, she thought, thankful that the boss’s rage was not directed at her. She flipped through her Rolodex and found the accountant’s number.

Clint stared pensively at the folders in front of him. He’d wrestled with what he had to do for several days. His decision was made. His friend Steve’s investigation of Mark had come up with some very damning information, and he felt compelled to tell Terri, whether she accepted his help or not.

The tapping on his office door snapped him to attention. Melissa strolled in.

“You wanted to see me, Clint?” she asked, beaming a brilliant smile.

“Yes. Have a seat.”

Melissa took a seat opposite Clint, seductively crossing her long legs. She regarded him thoughtfully, gaining a joyous satisfaction in studying his profile. Her strong admiration and loyalty for Clint bordered on the romantic, but she was always careful never to cross that line. She sighed silently, wishing that one day he’d see past her brains to the woman who could rock his world.

“You’ve been seeing Mark Andrews.” His question was more of a statement, and Melissa wasn’t sure if she should be angry or flattered by his interest.

“I won’t even begin to ask you how you know,” she stated candidly, the years of working together being enough of an answer. “Is there a problem that I should know about?”

Clint slowly crossed the room, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. He turned to face her.

“There could be. I got some bad vibes from him when the deal with Powers, Inc., fell through. Some things didn’t sit right with me. I’ve had someone do some investigating on our Mr. Andrews, and I don’t like what I’ve found out.”

Melissa’s heart tripped. The only man that had truly interested her in years had been Clint. There’d been others to fill the gaps, even Clint’s buddy Steve. When she met Mark, she thought that she had finally found someone to take her mind off of Clint—permanently. Or at least until Clint woke up and truly saw her. Now she had a bad feeling that she wasn’t going to like what she was going to hear.

Melissa returned to her office, slamming the door behind her, the vehemence of her tirade toward Clint reverberating in her head. Her hurt and anger were so intense that she shook with its force. She swung back toward the closed door, wanting desperately to throw something. Then feeling totally impotent, tears of frustration and defeat filled her hazel eyes.

Terri and Stacy sat in Terri’s office awaiting Mark and the accountant’s arrival.

Stacy took a sip of her coffee. “I just can’t believe that all of this was going on right under our noses.”

“Neither can I,” Terri replied, the soft lilt of her voice laden with regret.

Stacy shook her head just as Andrea peeked in the door.