Running the Numbers (12 page)

Amanda’s eyebrows rose slightly. Then she shrugged and went back to her dainty sips of wine and tiny scoops of mousse. “Okay.”

Sadie lifted her wineglass to indicate the room. Now that evening had fallen, she noticed the chandelier over the table. Crystal with silver metalwork. Damn thing belonged on a showroom somewhere. “Your home seems a little different.” Was there a way to say this without offending her? “From your sense of fashion. Like, the clothes you wear. I expected something a little more…”

“Colorful.” Amanda nodded and kept eating. Small bites, slow, measured, robotic. “I’ve been told I come off as sterile. Unapproachable. The bright colors and the flashy jewelry help me fit in. I learned early on it helps to fit in. I’m not naturally inclined toward big color, so I borrow from coworkers. I wear earrings like Opal does and bold colors like you.”

Sadie sputtered. Wine dribbled down her chin. She reached for her napkin to add another blemish to it. “You got part of your style from mine?” She wanted to be flattered but was too offended.

“Sure.” Amanda set her spoon down, lifted her wineglass, and leaned back. It was the most relaxed Sadie had seen her. “Your black hair in its simple cut allows you to be playful. Nothing clashes the way it can with pale blond. Take yellow, for example. It washes me out horribly. But you wear these deep, adventurous colors, like fuchsia and royal blue. You like black the way I like white, and it all works so well together. My real problem is I never know when to quit, and I get so frustrated some days. There are times I’ve closed my eyes, pointed, and wore whatever I landed on.”

Sadie sat forward, trying to wrap her head around Amanda’s logic. She didn’t dress like a blind lady because she didn’t have a sense of style—a glance around her apartment said she had some to spare. She did it to fit in, and Sadie didn’t have the heart to tell her it only made her stand out. “Amanda, that’s… Well, that’s crazy. Don’t you think it’s better to be yourself? Maybe you seem unapproachable because you’re hiding behind crazy outfits instead of wearing what makes you comfortable.”

Or because she had the demeanor of a sleep-deprived sloth. Sadie couldn’t fix that, but she could lend a hand in the fashion department.

Amanda pressed her lips together and seemed to take a second to consider before lifting her gaze to Sadie’s. “I don’t want to alienate myself from the others.”

“Look, Amanda, all you need to do is take your inherent sophisticated flair and sprinkle a dash of color on it. Like the lavender dishes in your white, white kitchen.” Sadie drained her glass and pushed it away. “You know what? You’re right. We should be friends. And to commemorate our first official day of friendship, we’re going back to an old classic.”

“Classic? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

She stood, slightly off-kilter from her second glass of wine. “Refill that wineglass and point me in the direction of your closet. We’re gonna play dress-up.”

November had arrived in style, dumping mounds of snow the day before the mandatory office party, where they all showed up to prove they were festive and full of the autumn spirit. Sadie set a bag of chips next to the impressive spread of real food others had brought. She bit her lip, considered it, then ripped the bag open and dumped the contents into an empty plastic serving bowl.

Look at me, domestic goddess.

She brushed crumbs from her hands, turned away from the table to rejoin the party, and nearly collided with Amanda. “I’m so sorry. Here, let me help.” Sadie took the covered dish from Amanda’s neatly groomed fingers, unable to resist a whiff. “Oh, man, is that stuffing? I live for stuffing.”

Amanda answered in her typical deadpan fashion. “It’s not Thanksgiving without stuffing.”

Sadie nodded sagely. “Then again, it’s not Thanksgiving. Don’t you think it’s odd to have a party today and then turn around tomorrow and eat all the same stuff with our families?”

“Duncan feels obligated to throw a party for the employees. He’s rather sentimental about holidays. Also, he’s leaving in the spring. I imagine he’ll miss everyone and would like to make a few memories while he can.” Amanda smoothed the foil cover on her dish.

Her clothes were different, as they had been lately. Cream colors, light grays, and white, white, and more white. Plus, of course, a touch of color here and there. Bold red shoes or a glittering bracelet. It pleased Sadie tremendously, and she got a wealth of satisfaction every time Amanda snuck her a small grateful smile. This usually came after some complimentary remark on her improved appearance, which had changed drastically since their dinner weeks ago.

The outside changes led to inside changes. Amanda seemed happier and more at ease with herself.

Occasionally, Sadie questioned if they were all changes for the better. She’d noticed Blake looking harassed a time or two, after dates with Amanda. But that was none of her business. She followed her new best friend’s gaze across the room, unsurprised it had landed on Blake. “I bet you’re right about Duncan. He and Zoey are doing the smart thing, waiting for winter to pass.”

Amanda nodded absently. “Hmm. Plus, Mother’s glad to have such generous notice. It’s given her time to go over her options.”

Sadie’s gut twisted. She was painstakingly careful not to bring up the promotion around Amanda. Somehow, they’d formed a weird, nebulous, yet genuine friendship. Sadie had no clue how it had happened. Blake had dropped out of her life like a plastic bag in a windstorm, to be replaced by his girlfriend. Kennedy, on the other hand, had formed quite the bond with Blake.

New lines were being drawn in the office, and Sadie didn’t know how she felt about any of it. Outside of her career, which she had mapped out down to her fortieth birthday, she wasn’t much of a planner. She went with the flow, and this was where the great river of life had taken her.

Blake wasn’t meant to be. She’d accepted it, for the most part. It bothered her at times, like when she noticed he wore a forced smile or an unguarded frown. Sometimes, he seemed lonely, and she longed to fix it. But that was Amanda’s job.

Unfortunately, the whole forbidden fruit thing made him more appealing. Her crush was snowballing. He looked good in a pair of slacks, but she daydreamed about the Saturday morning he’d been shirtless, scruffy, and wearing loose jeans riding low on his hips.

Heat crept up from her chest and she cleared her throat, pushing away the enticing image. “I guess Blake will be spending the holiday with you at the ranch, huh?” Sadie covered her acute interest in the answer by filling a small plastic cup with warm cider from a Crock-Pot on the far end of the table. Any minute now, everyone else would come streaming by to fill paper plates with too much food.

A golden turkey, still steaming, several varieties of stuffing, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, yams with marshmallows, and a multitude of pies, pumpkin and apple among them, were crammed together, hot and ready for whenever Duncan gave everyone the okay. First, of course, there had to be mingling, with Styrofoam cups of punch and cider. Then, like every year before, Duncan would insist they each take turns saying what they were grateful for.

It wasn’t a bad tradition. When Sadie was chief accountant next year, she’d keep it going. An homage to Duncan.

“No,” Amanda said, “I’m flying to Boise to see family.”

Sadie’s shoulders fell. Geez. Give people a four-day weekend, and they disappeared like doughnuts in the breakroom. Kennedy, Wes, and Nina were all leaving to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with relatives. “Maybe his son can come visit him.”

Amanda shook her head. “Seth is spending the holiday in London. Blake called to invite him but was too late. It was sort of crushing to watch Blake’s face. Of course, directly after I had to inform him of my plans.”

“Oh, wow. Poor guy.” Sadie didn’t think it was right for anyone to spend the holidays alone. She should know, having spent most of her adult life on her own. “I think I’ll go mingle, if you don’t mind.”

Amanda glanced at her watch. “I’m leaving, actually. Mother’s plane takes off in two hours. I’d like to go over what I’ve packed a final time.”

“You’re not staying for the party? Why’d you bother to come?”

Amanda gestured toward her dish. “It’s my obligation to bring something. The stuffing is cornbread, with apples and sausage. I hope everyone likes it.”

Seriously? Sometimes, being friends with Amanda wasn’t all that great for Sadie’s self-esteem. She glanced at the bowl of mostly broken potato chips and tried not to cringe. “I’m sure everyone will love it. I’ll make sure they know you made it.”

A flush of pleasure blossomed on Amanda’s cheeks, and she smiled as she collected her purse from a nearby chair. “Thank you, Sadie. You’re a very good friend.”

Sadie watched Amanda disappear into the lobby and chewed the inside of her cheek.
Let’s see if you still think that after this weekend.

Besides, what kind of friend would she be if she let Blake spend the holiday alone? A bad one, if Amanda suspected Sadie of moving in on her territory. Or a great one, if Blake appreciated having company on the holidays.

Sadie found Blake talking with Catalina.

Catalina was pretty amazing, as far as humans in general went. She was a consummate professional at all times and carried herself with an import and grace Sadie envied. She’d taken the Castley account in stride and thanked Sadie for not begrudging her the opportunity to prove herself.

Sadie wedged herself in between the two of them. “Say, Blake, got a sec? Duncan’s fidgeting with his tie, which means he’s getting hungry. I think we’re only waiting on Reba to show up with the glazed ham he ordered from Smith’s, but he won’t wait much longer.”

Blake smiled politely at Catalina, who smoothly moved on to the next cluster of chatting coworkers. He sipped his cider. “How have you been, Sadie?”

“Oh, fine. You know. Making new friends and stuff.”

“So I noticed. Wednesday nights are off limits because it’s best friend night.”

“Don’t begrudge me my visitation rights.”

“I don’t unless it’s brownie day. I hate it when you get brownie day. There are never any leftover.”

Sadie grinned. Ah, the kicker—she really liked Blake. He made her smile. “Listen, I heard your holiday plans sort of fell through. Amanda just bailed to reorganize her color-coded luggage”—or so Sadie imagined—“and she told me Seth couldn’t make it.”

Blake shrugged, but the thin line of his mouth gave away his displeasure. “I’m low on the totem pole. Unless I ask months and months in advance, Seth defaults to spending holidays with Jack and Quinn. By the time I thought to ask, he was already telling me Madeline plans to cook for all of them. That’s Jack’s mother. She’s Irish, but since she’s married to Quinn’s dad, who’s obviously American, she gets stuck celebrating all our holidays. It’ll be her first time cooking, though. I mean, the whole Thanksgiving setup. I ramble when I’m upset. Sorry.”

Sadie didn’t mind his chatter but frowned anyway. “Your family background is like something out of a Georgette Heyer novel. Cousins marrying cousins. It’s weird, Blake.”

A smile threatened in the curve of his lips. He scratched his temple. “As convoluted as it seems, it’s all above-board. Douglas and Madeline were dating before Jack and Quinn got it together.”

She shook her head. “Still weird.”

“Yeah.” Blake almost laughed. “I can’t wait to see Amanda’s face when I attempt to explain it.”

Something occurred to Sadie. “Is there a reason Amanda would leave without saying good-bye to you?” She hooked a thumb toward the lobby. “She was here and left without a word. Is that normal?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess. I mean, we spoke yesterday. She told me she had to drop off stuffing, and I’d see her Monday. Not much more to say.” He looked away.

Sadie nodded and patted Blake’s shoulder. “Well, it’s okay. I’ve decided you’re going to spend Thanksgiving with me.”

He started to protest.

She held up her hands to stop him. “I don’t have family here, and all my friends leave town anytime we get this many free days. I don’t do anything major—I definitely don’t cook like Amanda. She goes all out for a normal dinner. I’d hate to imagine the spread she’d work up for a holiday. The pile of dishes a meal like that would produce is enough to convince me to keep it simple. Canned cranberry sauce, a turkey sandwich, and some pie from the reduced-price section of the deli. Sparkling wine if I’m in the mood. Oh, but also, there’s this silent auction at the Elk’s Club on Friday. You can be my plus one. Unless, of course, you’ve got plans.”

He smiled, and Sadie’s stomach did that thing again. He’d shaved his face to perfect smoothness that made her itch to run her finger along the square line of his jaw. “You’re perfectly aware that I don’t. So, sure. Why not. Better than moping in my cabin for four days.”

She patted his shoulder. “I bet it’ll smell better, too.”

He was on the verge of responding when Duncan called him from across the parlor. Reba had finally arrived, and Duncan wanted to give Blake the honor of slicing.

Sadie grinned after him. A date for Thanksgiving, and she didn’t even have to cook. Her thoughts turned to the pile of laundry on her sofa. Was Blake worth folding laundry for? She hated laundry, nearly as much as she hated putting copious amounts of effort into preparing food when there were so many shortcuts.

A second later, she turned toward the food table and caught Kennedy’s glare from across the room.

* * * *

Sadie’s apartment was a rundown unit, part of a community of duplexes. Blake supposed the location made up for what it lacked in fresh paint and even sidewalks, as Flat Creek ran directly behind the complex.

Then he saw the interior. A huge stone fireplace faced the living room front and center, demanding attention the way a big-screen television would. The inside had a cabin-like feel, with warm tones and wood paneling. Sadie had a penchant for fluffy, overstuffed furniture. Two recliners and a light blue sofa crowded around the fireplace, above which Sadie had mounted a small television. Easy to see what her priorities were.