Frisky Business (4 page)

They pushed through the doors together and stepped into the small, overheated boardroom. Marley surveyed the crowd of well-dressed, older citizens gripping coffee mugs emblazoned with the wildlife sanctuary’s logo. Everyone turned to study her, and Marley resisted the urge to wipe her hands on her skirt.

“Marley, I’d like to introduce you to some of the board members you didn’t meet during your interview,” Susan announced. “Folks, this is Marley Cartman, our new director of development. She’ll be taking charge of donor relations and financial management. Marley, this is Gladys Gainsworth, Bed Playman, Stan Martin, Peter Quon, and Martin Braylard. Oh, and here’s our board chairman.”

Marley turned as a man in a three-piece suit strode into the room, straightening a tie she was pretty sure cost more than her car. She stared at the suit, at the shoes that were surprisingly devoid of duct tape, at the eyes that were disturbingly mismatched, at the lips that were disconcertingly familiar.

Marley opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find any words at all.

“Marley, this is the chairman of our board of trustees, William Barclay the Fifth,” Susan said. “Marley here is our new director of development.”

Marley stuck out her hand like a trained dog. “William,” she stammered.

“Just plain Will,” he corrected, smiling down at her. “How’s Magoo?”

“Fine, thank you.” She glanced down at the floor, not trusting herself to meet his eyes. “You aren’t wearing the antique slippers.”

“The duct tape clashed with the tie.”

“You’re… you’re—” Marley stopped, not sure what she meant to say.
You’re the guy I made out with
didn’t seem right, nor did
you’re the best kisser I’ve ever necked with in a kitchen.

“You’re here!” she finished brightly, wishing the ground would swallow her up.

“That I am,” Will agreed, giving her the tiniest wink.

Susan clapped her hands together. “Okay, folks, shall we take our seats?”

Marley stumbled toward a chair at the far end of the conference table, still trying to wrap her brain around the volunteer dogcatcher in holey slippers masquerading as a wealthy trustee oozing old money. Or was it the other way around?

At the other end of the table, Will tapped a stack of papers with an expensive-looking pen. “Let’s get things started, since I know everyone’s time is valuable. Ms. Cartman, since this is your first board meeting, would you mind introducing yourself before we kick off the executive session?”

Marley stood and smoothed the front of her skirt with her fingers.
Be
brief, be sincere, be seated,
she coached herself silently. She cleared her throat and smiled.

“I’m Marley Cartman, and I’m delighted to meet all of you and excited to be working with the Cascade Historical Society and Wildlife Sanctuary,” Marley announced.

“Cheez Whiz,” Will said.

Marley blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Cheez Whiz. It’s the acronym for Cascade Historical Society and Wildlife Sanctuary. Much easier to say.” Will smiled, making his mismatched eyes sparkle, and Marley forgot her name for a moment.

“Oh, CHSWS.” Marley nodded. “Okay then.”

Susan cleared her throat. “Will’s family has been volunteering here for many years. It’s his chief goal to keep things… well,
lively
here.”

“To keep it from being stuffy and dull so guests actually
want
to come here and learn things about wildlife and natural history instead of wanting to drown themselves in the otter pond out of sheer boredom,” Will said, turning back to Marley. “Sorry to interrupt. You can keep going with your bio.”

“Right.” Marley cleared her throat. “I have a degree in economics, and I’ve worked in philanthropy and donor relations for twelve years now, most recently for Woolstein and Associates in Portland. I’ve done pro bono fund-raising work for the Bend Humane Society for a couple years now, so I’m thrilled to finally make it to Bend on a more permanent basis.”

She flashed her best smile at the assembled group, pleased she hadn’t blurted what was really running through her mind.
My
name
is
Marley
and
my
hands
smell
like
dead
fish, Stan Martin’s fly is down, and I’ve tongue-wrestled with the board chairman.

“Do you golf, dear?” asked a woman at the end of the table wearing diamond earrings the size of small grapefruits. She smiled, but the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We have twenty-six courses in Central Oregon, and so many business deals happen out on the course, you know.”

Marley smiled back as her palms began to perspire. “I’ve been known to pick up a club from time to time,” she replied, trying to remember the last time she’d done that. Did visiting a driving range in college count?

A man with salt-and-pepper sideburns picked up his green-and-yellow coffee mug, and Marley tried to remember which Oregon sports team had those colors. “Are you a fan of the Oregon State Beavers or the U of O Ducks?”

A man across the table hooted and stroked his orange- and-black tie. “There’s the million-dollar question! Which are you, Marley—a duck or a beaver?”

The group laughed, and Marley tried to join them as she fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t alienate anyone. “I’m not really a fan of college sports,” she replied slowly, wiping her palms on her skirt. “But I’m very excited to take advantage of all the outdoor recreation Central Oregon has to offer.”

A frowning older woman cleared her throat. “You’ve been briefed on our dress code, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Marley squeaked, smoothing a hand over her tights.

“Good. And I trust you’ve been briefed on the reasons your predecessor is no longer employed with the organization. You’re aware of our policies regarding fraternization between company executives, members of the board, and the employees we oversee?”

Marley tried not to let her surprise show. The rule was news to her, as were the reasons for her predecessor’s departure. But there was no sense letting her ignorance show, and definitely no sense expressing dismay over an antiquated policy.

“Of course,” Marley said. “Rules are important in any major organization.”

She waited for more questions, hoping there wouldn’t be any. She hoped she’d given the best answers, that she’d made the right impression. After a few beats of silence, she took her seat again, ready to move on with the meeting. Two spots down, an elderly woman with a bushel of white hair sprouting from one ear peered at Marley. “You kept your last name, dear?”

“Pardon?”

The woman smiled, and Marley remembered her from the interview panel. Martha or Margaret or Margie?

“You mentioned a fiancé when you interviewed,” the woman shouted. “Or did the wedding not happen yet?”

Margaret. Margaret Flowers.
That was her name.

Marley cringed, recalling now the woman had a fondness for intrusive questions. Marley wasn’t sure if she felt more like kicking herself for mentioning the engagement in the interview, or more like kicking Margaret for remembering. Marley pasted her smile back in place and folded her hands on the table.

“My fiancé—
ex
-fiancé—chose not to join me in the move to Bend,” Marley said, struggling to keep her tone light and cheery.

Margaret frowned, apparently not getting the hint. “Does this mean you’ll be returning to Portland for the wedding then?”

Marley clenched her fingers together and smiled so hard her jaw hurt. “No, there won’t be a wedding.”

“A courthouse ceremony?” Margaret made a
tsk-tsk
sound. “In my day, women didn’t settle for things like that. We insisted on a proper wedding with attendants and flowers and—”

“I’m not getting married, Ms. Flowers.” Marley interrupted. “My fiancé—
ex
-fiancé—decided not to move with me, and I decided I deserved better than a guy who’d choose his career over the woman he professed to love, so I moved by myself and got this great job and a dog and a new mountain bike and a plan to only date guys with simple jobs and small bank accounts and priorities in the right place.”

The room fell silent, and Marley considered crawling under the conference table. All eyes were on her, unblinking. At least she hadn’t cursed or cried or tucked her skirt into her panties. She’d been so careful, so good about biting her tongue until—

“Well, now,” Will said. His expression was bland, but there was laughter in his mismatched eyes. One corner of his mouth quirked up as he looked at Marley—
was
that
a
wink?
—before picking up a stack of papers and clearing his throat. “Thank you for that colorful introduction, Ms. Cartman. How about we use that as a segue into another challenging topic, the second quarter financials. If you’ll all open your packets to page three, I’d like to review the numbers from—”

Marley resisted the urge to groan as she picked up her paperwork and the remaining shreds of her dignity.

It was going to be a very long meeting.

“We’ve been over this several times, Bed,” Susan said, touching the older woman on the shoulder as the rest of the meeting attendees filed out of the boardroom. “The wildlife sanctuary does not currently have any pure white rabbits.”

Will desperately wanted to avoid being dragged into the conversation between the sanctuary director and the kooky board member who’d donated millions to the organization over the years. He’d survived the board meeting without falling asleep, a feat he attributed more to the fact that he was leading the financial discussion as opposed to any real personal growth on his part.

Okay, the glimpses he stole down the front of Marley’s blouse may have played a bigger role in keeping him alert. It was the end result that counted, right?

Now Will just wanted to go home, put on his slippers, fix himself a snack, and play fetch with his dogs.

But Susan grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, yanking him into the discussion and thwarting his escape plans. She gave him a stiff smile and kept a death grip on his arm.

“Will, so good to see you,” Susan said. “Bed and I were just talking…”

Will’s eyes landed on Marley Cartman, who was apparently part of the conversation. His urge to flee evaporated.

“Ladies,” he said.

“Will.” Marley folded her hands in front of her skirt and gave Will a smile even stiffer than Susan’s.

A
whole
lot
of
stiff
for
one
conversation
, Will thought. He gave Marley a real smile and tried to get the word
stiff
out of his brain.

Susan cleared her throat. “Will, you’ve hosted one of our animal-centered charity events before—you know how this works.”

Will nodded. “Of course. Don’t let guests pet the porcupines.”

“Well yes, but—”

“Make sure you ask if the skunk has been de-scented before you pick him up?”

The corners of Marley’s mouth quirked, and she looked down at the floor to mask her smile.

Susan sighed. “Bed’s charity dinner is tonight, and we’d arranged for the two badgers to be there.”

“Floyd and Frank, sure,” Will said.

“Wonderful animals,” Marley chimed. She sent Will a nervous glance, and his pulse kicked up a notch. “The world’s fastest diggers, if I’m not mistaken. They dig extensive tunnels and burrows known as
setts
.” Marley flushed and looked down at her hands before looking back at Bed. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy with them, Deb.”

“
Bed
,” the two women corrected, and Will watched Marley’s expression turn to a frown.

“Bed?” she squeaked. “Oh… um, like you sleep in?”

“Among other things, yes,” Will said, earning himself an eye roll from Susan and a
what’s that, dear?
from Bed. Will cleared his throat. “Bed is short for Beddy, which is short for Bernadette.”

“They’ve called me that since I was a little girl,” Bed huffed, and everyone offered another round of stiff smiles.

“Of course,” Marley said. “
Bed.
My mistake.”

“Bed doesn’t want the badgers at her charity event tonight,” Susan said, giving Will a pointed look as she tried to steer the conversation back on track. “She’s questioning their appeal to party guests.”

“Big donors love the badgers,” Will offered. “Ed Bainbrich had Frank and Floyd at his last cocktail party and raked in tons of donations for Cheez Whiz by letting guests have their photos taken with them. Sarah Wilcox donated three grand when Floyd chewed the toe off Carl Madley’s shoe.”

Susan frowned. “There was no damage to Carl’s foot, and everyone at the party had a lovely time.”

“I want
bunnies
,” Bed snapped. “White bunnies.
Pure
white. Four of them. I plan to dye them mauve and green to match the drapes.”

Susan sighed, and Marley kept her stiff smile pasted in place. Will tried very hard not to laugh.

“We don’t have any white bunnies at CHSWS,” Susan explained slowly. “And even if we did, you wouldn’t be allowed to dye them for a dinner party. The wildlife sanctuary specializes in
native
species.”

“As far as rabbits go, that’s the Oregon cottontail or the black-tailed jackrabbit,” Marley offered. “Both brownish gray in color.”

“Can we dye those?” Bed asked.

“No!” everyone chorused.

Marley bit her lip, and Will wondered how often Marley’d had to deal with nutty donor demands in her previous job. Where had she said she’d worked? Woolstein and Associates in Portland. He should probably do some sleuthing into her background, just to be safe. It was never smart to assume you knew the important details about someone, only to discover you’d missed something ridiculously obvious. That a person wasn’t who she pretended to be.

Like
April.

Will focused his attention back on the conversation and on the soothing, pleasant hum of Marley’s voice.

“I completely understand your need to have the animals match the furnishings, Mrs.—
Bed
,” Marley said. “It makes perfect sense to me.”

Will quirked an eyebrow. “It does?”

Marley ignored him and touched the old woman’s arm. “How about this… I’ll come take a look at your drapes before the party, and then I’ll stop by the fabric store to buy some ribbon in complementary shades. We can weave the ribbon around the badgers’ cages and maybe purchase leashes in the appropriate colors. If you like, we could even work some wildflowers into the display.”

“
Native
wildflowers,” Susan clarified.

“Of course.”

Bed appeared to be mulling it over, and Will stole a glance at Marley. Clever thinking on her part. He wouldn’t have pegged her as the crafty, Martha Stewart type, but the ribbon thing could work.

“Hmph,” said Bed. “I wanted bunnies.”

“I’ll bring photographs of bunnies,” Marley said. “We’ll set up a display educating people on the rabbit species native to Central Oregon. Accented with frames to match the drapes, of course.”

Bed frowned for a few more moments, tugging on her bottom lip as she considered the offer. “Can you Photoshop the pictures so the rabbits are mauve and green?”

Susan grimaced, and Marley offered another stiff smile. “That’s a great idea. We’ll see what we can do.”

“In that case, I’ll see you at my house in an hour,” Bed said. “You can take a look at the drapes and make sure you get the colors just right.”

“I’ve got your address on the forms,” Marley said. “I’m sure I’ll have no trouble finding it.”

The old woman harrumphed and walked out of the room. Will turned and smiled at Marley.

“Nicely done, Ms. Cartman.”

“Marley, please. And thank you.”

“You certainly know how to handle donors.”

“I’ve been handling donors for most of my adult life.” Marley grimaced. “That sounded filthier than I meant it to.”

Will laughed. “You’re welcome to handle the donors however you see fit, as long as it gets the job done. You probably never imagined your skills with ribbon crafts and Photoshop would come in handy for this job.”

“I have no skills with either of those things. I’m the least crafty person you’ve ever met.” Marley shrugged. “I guess I have a couple hours to learn.”

“Good luck with that,” Will said. “You know, I wouldn’t count on being able to find Bed’s house easily. She lives on a big ranch several miles east of town. It’s tricky to get to if you don’t know where you’re going.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure you would, but I’d be happy to take you out there if you like,” Will said. “I have to go out there anyway to drop off a case of wine she’ll be auctioning during the charity dinner.”

“Is it the 2000 Mouton Rothschild?” Susan asked, eyes wide.

Will fought the urge to grimace. “It is.”

Susan beamed. “Oh, thank you, Will. That should fetch a nice sum. $1,400 a bottle?”

Will kept his smile pasted in place, fighting the discomfort that surged when any conversation turned toward his net worth. “Something like that.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Marley said. “Thank you for supporting the Cascade Historical Society and Wildlife Sanctuary.”

“Cheez Whiz,” Will corrected.

“Right.”

Will glanced at his watch and gave a quick nod to the women. “Marley, I’ll come find you in your office in thirty minutes, if that works for you?”

“Sounds just fine. Thanks again.”

Will nodded again. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me a moment, I have some numbers to review with Ed.”

He turned and strode away, reluctant to leave Marley, but pleased at the thought of spending an hour in the car alone with her.

Dumb
idea, Barclay
, he told himself.
You
know
the
company
policy
about
dating
among
board
members
and
employees.

Okay, so he wouldn’t date Marley. But he needed to get to know the new development director, didn’t he? That’s all there was to it.

There
you
go—tell yourself more lies about a pretty girl
, his subconscious scoffed.
You’re good at that.

***

The second Will was out of earshot, Susan turned to Marley and quirked an eyebrow. “You said something about his slippers when I introduced you earlier. I take it you two have met before?”

“At the Humane Society,” Marley said. “And at my house. He was delivering dog food.”

Susan laughed. “Sounds like something Will would do. He’s the king of the volunteer circuit. Same with his sister, Bethany. I’m sure you’ll get to know them both quite well as you settle into the job.”

Marley nodded, resisting the urge to bombard Susan with questions about the mysterious millionaire with duct tape slippers and designer suits.

“Will’s been on the board awhile?” Marley asked, keeping her expression neutral.

“A few years. He’s very passionate about wildlife education and natural history. Very supportive of the organization’s mission, even if he sometimes has an odd way of showing it.”

“How do you mean?”

Susan smiled. “Will can seem a little…
irreverent
when it comes to the Cascade Historical Society and Wildlife Sanctuary.”

“Like the Cheez Whiz thing?”

“Precisely. It’s well-intentioned. He wants the organization to be accessible and welcoming and not to take itself so seriously that people stop showing up to learn.”

“Sounds like a healthy approach.”

“It can be.” Susan hesitated and glanced back at Will before speaking again. “You know how eccentric a lot of wealthy donors can be?”

“Well—”

“Multiply that by one hundred, and you’re just brushing the surface of William Barclay the Fifth.”

Marley glanced nervously toward Will, who was on the other side of the room and well out of earshot. “I have to admit, I wouldn’t have pegged him as a wealthy donor when we met yesterday. He seemed—”

“Bedraggled? Lazy? Unkempt? Impoverished?”

“I was going to say
from
modest
means,
but sure.” Marley shot another glance at Will. He was having an animated discussion with a man she recognized as the accountant for the wildlife sanctuary. Will shook his head fiercely and pulled a ballpoint pen out of his pocket. Marley watched him scrawl something on a page of the financial report they’d been reviewing in the meeting. She admired his hands, large and steady, and the way his coppery hair flopped across his forehead as he bent forward. She remembered what his lips had felt like pressed warm against hers, his hands cupping the small of her back and sliding down, down—

“Don’t you think so?” Susan asked, and Marley snapped her attention back to the conversation.

“I beg your pardon?”

Susan laughed. “You just answered my question. I asked if you found Will attractive.”

“Oh, um—”

“It’s okay. So does every other single female in Deschutes County.” Susan smiled and lowered her voice. “Word of advice—don’t get involved with board members.”

“Of course,” Marley said, her cheeks flushing. “Bed mentioned the rule in the board meeting.”

“Right. Yes, well, there was an unfortunate incident with a former board member having relations with the previous development director. It turned out she was embezzling money and he was helping cover it up, and the whole thing created quite the local scandal.”

“Oh dear.”

“The fraternization policy is in place to prevent that from happening again in the future.”

“And Bed has a personal interest?”

“You could say that.” Susan grimaced. “The board member who had the affair was her daughter-in-law. I should say
ex-
daughter-in-law. Bed’s son divorced her shortly after the news got out.”

“Yikes,” Marley said. “Sounds messy.”

“It was. And we’re hoping to avoid any future scandals.”

Marley nodded and did her best not to look at Will. “I understand completely.”

Susan smiled. “You’re fine to date other employees if you like. But the board of directors supervises your position, so they’re all off-limits. And even if the rule weren’t in place, you’d want to steer clear of Will Barclay.”

Marley flushed, dismayed to realize her interest was so obvious. “Married?”

“No. Not now, anyway. He was. His ex-wife ran off with his sister two or three years ago. Speaking of local scandals.” Susan shrugged. “Everyone’s on friendly terms now, and his ex-wife is just the nicest woman you can imagine.”

“It must have been tough for Will.”

“I suppose. It was actually a pretty amicable split. Well, as far as most lesbian-sister-runs-off-with-brother’s-wife divorces go. She probably could have tried for alimony or some sort of huge settlement, but she didn’t go there. Sweet girl. Just not the girl for Will.”

Marley risked a quick glance at Will, hoping he couldn’t hear their conversation. Susan had been right earlier when she’d remarked on Marley’s natural interest in people giving her an edge in donor relations. She loved getting to know people, learning about their interests and what made them tick.