Authors: Tawna Fenske
Still, she didn’t like to gossip.
Gossip
has
nothing
to
do
with
why
you’re curious about Will Barclay.
Marley flushed and looked back at Susan. “Is it family money? The Barclays, I mean.”
“There is family money, but Will avoids that. His aunt is Nancy Thomas-Smith—the donor of the figurines.”
“That’s his
aunt
?”
“The one and only. She raised Will and his sister from the time they were little, so she’s really more like a mother to them. You’ll meet her eventually.”
“That’s where the money comes from?”
Susan laughed and shook her head, leaning close to Marley and keeping her voice low. “No, Will’s wealth isn’t family money. On his twenty-first birthday, he went to a convenience store to buy his first legal beer. While he was there, he figured he’d buy a one-dollar lottery ticket.”
“No!” Marley said. “He won millions from a scratch-off?”
“No, he won a few thousand. But he used the money to buy stock in some sort of pharmaceutical company and made millions that way.”
“So the Cascade Historical Society and Wildlife Sanctuary is very lucky to have him. And the rest of his family, from the sounds of it.”
“Absolutely.” Susan shot a sidelong glance across the room, where Will was still deep in conversation with the accountant. “Word of advice: Will doesn’t like to talk about his money. Barely likes to acknowledge it exists. Keep that in mind when you’re dealing with donor relations.”
“I’ll do that.”
Susan smiled and patted Marley’s arm. “You did well in the meeting today. And nice job handling Bed. The thing with the ribbons and photo frames—that was great thinking. We made a good choice hiring you.”
Marley flushed. “Thank you.”
“You came very highly recommended, you know. The hiring committee was unanimous in its decision to offer you the job.”
“I’m so glad,” Marley said, and tried not to feel guilty about that. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Not really.
You
didn’t tell them everything—
“I’m glad we were able to find a solution for Bed,” Marley said. “I had visions of dead pink bunnies dancing in my head.”
Susan laughed. “I’m heading back to my office. I’ll talk to our wildlife specialist, Darin, about getting the bunny pictures ready. I’ll text you the sizes when I know what we’ve got.”
“Perfect. I’ll grab the frames and ribbon while I’m out.”
“If we don’t cross paths this afternoon, I’ll see you tonight at the dinner.”
“See you there.” Marley turned and began gathering coffee cups and pieces of scratch paper off the boardroom table, trying hard not to look like she was eavesdropping on Will’s conversation with the accountant.
“I’m not sure it’s fiscally responsible to include proceeds from the traveling exhibit in next year’s budget when we don’t have the appraisal yet,” Will was saying, his voice steely. “I know you’re getting a lot of pressure from my aunt on this, but we need to hold off.”
Marley shot a sidelong glance at the accountant’s face and saw him sigh. “We’re expecting the appraisal to come back in this range.” He tapped his pen twice on a notepad. “If the numbers pan out and the exhibit generates the sort of income we’re expecting, those figurines should end up being the largest donation Cheez Whiz has ever received. We could build the new education center.”
“It seems premature,” Will said. “I know Aunt Nancy thinks they’re invaluable, but—” Will looked up and caught Marley staring. She flushed and grabbed his coffee cup. “You through with this?”
Will frowned. “You don’t have to do that, Marley. You were hired to court big donors, not to be a busboy for the board of directors.”
“Bus
boy
?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I know I wasn’t required to disclose my gender during the application process, but I didn’t realize there was any confusion.”
Will grinned. “I can assure you, I’m not the least bit confused. Seriously, Marley, you aren’t here to wait hand and foot on people.”
“Waiting hand and foot on people is a crucial part of donor relations.”
“Fine.” Will handed her his empty coffee cup and tucked his pen back in his pocket. “I’m ready to head out to Bed’s house whenever you are.”
“Let me put these things down and grab my purse, and then I’ll be ready to go.”
Marley turned and scurried down the hall, not sure why she felt so out of sorts.
Because
he’s hot. Because you were eavesdropping on his conversation. Because you can’t stop thinking about him ravishing you against the counter?
She loaded the cups into the dishwasher and the papers in the recycle bin before hustling down the hallway to her office. She grabbed her purse and turned toward the mirror tacked above her desk. She paused long enough to slick on a fresh coat of lipstick, assuring herself it was her job to look professional and polished for any major donor or board member.
That’s not why you want to look good.
“So do you want the badgers to dig?”
Marley turned at the sound of the man’s voice. He stood in her doorway wearing khaki pants and a matching khaki shirt with dirt on the sleeves. His brown eyes were kind, his brown hair was tousled, and his expression was curious.
Marley blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
The man smiled, displaying a neat row of very white teeth. “I’m sorry. I guess I should introduce myself first.” He stuck out his hand, and Marley shook it automatically. “Darin Temple, I’m one of the wildlife specialists here. I’ll be in charge of the badgers tonight at the charity dinner.”
“Darin, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He smiled again, and Marley opened her mental Rolodex to take notes.
Cute, unshaven, a little dirt on his sleeves. Definitely blue-collar dating material. Definitely a much better prospect than the absurdly wealthy board chairman with trust issues.
Marley rubbed her lips together and tucked the tube of lipstick back in her purse. “I appreciate you helping us prepare for tonight’s event. Did Susan talk to you about the rabbit photos?”
Darin grimaced. “Yes, I can do that. We have some existing displays I’ll sort through in the storeroom, and I can send a few photo files to Costco within the hour for a quick print job. Do you think something like an eleven-by-seventeen would work?”
“That would be perfect, thanks. Just have Susan text me how many frames we’ll need, and I’ll grab some at the craft store.” Marley hesitated, biting her lip. “I don’t suppose you could use Photoshop to make the rabbits mauve and green?”
Darin raised an eyebrow, and Marley shook her head. “Never mind. Forget I asked. What were you saying about the badgers digging?”
“Right, of course. We have a program here at two o’clock every day where we put one of the badgers at the top of a big Plexiglas cube filled with dirt. There’s an opening at the very bottom and the trainer stands there with a treat, which urges the badger to dig his way out.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “Sounds corny, but guests love it. It’s fun to watch, and it’s a good way to educate people about the animal. Do you want me to bring the digging setup to the event tonight?”
“That would be wonderful. Badger digging. I wonder if we could use that for fund-raising.”
Darin shrugged. “Probably. I’m bringing both badgers, so we could lead them in one at a time and let people place bets on which badger will dig fastest. Or maybe something about which badger can displace the most dirt?”
“Brilliant.” Marley grinned and jotted another note in her mental Rolodex.
Clever, creative, helpful
. She glanced at his left hand for a wedding ring and was rewarded by the sight of a bare finger and a healthy bit of dirt under his nails.
Perfect.
She looked back at his face and suppressed a smile as she saw him studying her left ring finger, too.
The
mating
ritual
of
single
thirty-somethings everywhere.
“So, Marley,” he said, shuffling his feet on the carpet. “I guess I’ll see you tonight.”
“Likewise. Here, let me give you my cell number in case you have any trouble with the photos.”
She reached for a pad of sticky notes, smiling at the cartoon figure of Goofy on the top sheet. If Will Barclay was determined to keep the organization from taking itself too seriously, Marley was equipped to do her part.
She pushed thoughts of Will out of her mind as she scribbled her phone number on a sticky note. She peeled the note off the pad as Darin held out his hand.
“Here you go,” Marley said, pressing the note into his palm and holding it there a second longer than necessary. She smiled and received a smile in return. “Thanks again for helping tonight.”
“My pleasure. Look, if you need someone to show you around Bend sometime—”
Just then, Will rounded the corner into Marley’s office and clapped his hands together. He grinned at Marley, and she felt her stomach flip pleasantly.
Darin withdrew his hand.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” Will said. “Hey, Darin. How’s it going?”
“Not bad, not bad. You?”
“Can’t complain. You need a little more time here, Marley?”
“Oh, well, we were just wrapping up.”
“Take your time. I’ll wait out in the lobby.”
He turned and walked away, and Marley fought the urge to check out his ass. She failed, though it was one of the more pleasant failures of her life. He had a fantastic ass.
Knock
it
off. Eyes off the rich guy; focus on the normal guy.
“So Darin,” Marley said, turning back to him. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“See you tonight. It was great meeting you.”
“You too.” He smiled and walked out of her office. Marley glanced at his backside, disappointed to see the baggy khakis didn’t do much for him.
That’s not the point. He’s a nice, blue-collar man who’s different from all the rich, egotistical schmucks you’ve dated. He’s perfect.
She hiked up her purse, straightened her posture, and headed out to the lobby to meet Will. He was seated on a heavy wooden bench that bore a plaque with a donor’s name. Marley squinted at it.
William
Barclay
V.
He looked up as she approached and smiled. Then he followed the direction of her gaze to the plaque. He stopped smiling and shook his head.
“I’ve asked them four times to take the damn plaque off. Even came in here with a screwdriver once and did it myself. Someone in maintenance put up a new one.”
“Why don’t you want it there?”
He shrugged. “Why would I?”
“Fair point,” Marley said, not entirely sure it was. “If you like, I’ll see that it gets removed right away.”
Will grinned, his mismatched eyes flashing. “Are you
handling
me, Ms. Cartman?”
“Do you need to be
handled,
Mr. Barclay?” Marley grimaced. “I’ve gotta stop doing that.”
“For a minute there I thought you were flirting with me.”
Marley felt her cheeks heat up and fought to keep her voice cool. “Just repeating your language from earlier. ‘
You’re welcome to handle the donors however you see fit
’?”
“Touché, Ms. Cartman. Handle me as you like.”
She was distracted by his mismatched eyes, unable to decide whether to fix her gaze on his blue eye or the green one. Both were mesmerizing, but she couldn’t seem to focus or take in both at the same time. She bit her lip. “You’re the first person I’ve ever met with two different colored eyes,” she blurted.
She did a mental forehead slap, but Will just laughed. “I might not be. A lot of people with heterochromia iridis tend to mask it with colored contact lenses.”
“There are a lot of people with… er, whatever you just said?”
“Heterochromia iridis.” He grinned. “Not really. But those who have it often hide it with colored lenses.”
“You never have?”
“Nope. I was self-conscious about it as a kid, so my sister looked up a list of celebrities with heterochromia iridis. David Bowie, Dan Aykroyd, Michael Flatley, Jane Seymour, and Kiefer Sutherland all have mismatched eyes.”
“That’s fascinating. I’ll have to tell Magoo about that, since he shares your hetero-chlamydia—”
“Hetero
chromia
iridis.”
“Right. That too. It’s sweet that your sister would go to so much trouble to make you feel more normal.”
“That’s Bethany. A heart of gold, and the personality you’d get if a drunk sailor mated with a stand-up comedian.”
Marley laughed. “Sounds interesting. I’m eager to meet her.”
“You probably will tonight. Ready to go?”
“Anytime you are.”
Will reached out, and for an instant, Marley thought he was going to grab her breast. She wasn’t sure which she found more startling—the fact that he might, or the fact that her entire body whimpered
yes, please!
But instead of groping her, Will pointed to the name badge clipped to Marley’s blouse. “You’d better stash that. Bed has very strict rules about board members and employees removing their name badges if they leave the building.”
“Oh,” Marley said, flushing as she looked down and unclipped the badge. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“No problem. Bed has a lot of rules.”
“I noticed.”
Will stood up and gestured toward the door. “After you.”
“Thank you.” Marley stuffed her name badge in her purse and followed Will toward the door.
“How do you feel about dog hair?”
“In general, or as a breakfast entrée?”
Will laughed. “In general. Or on your clothing, as the case may be. My car is full of it.”
“I can live with dog hair on my clothes or on your car seats. As long as you aren’t storing cadavers in the backseat, I’m fine riding with you.”
“The cadavers are in the trunk.”
“Then lead the way.”
They walked in companionable silence through the front doors and out into the parking lot. Marley took a deep breath of warm, high desert air. It certainly smelled different here than it did in Portland. The rainy side of the state was all damp earth and crushed grass, but Central Oregon was different. Sun-warmed ponderosa and juniper mingled with the scent of desert sage. Marley had loved it from the time she was a little girl visiting her grandparents here, and she loved it more now.