“You weren’t rude.” He had a way with his smile that made everything he said feel true. “It’s good to know if you’re not kissing me, you’re not kissing any other man.”
“Well, that’s one way of looking at it.” Could she do this? Sit at a table across from Ryder Donovan the rest of her life? Could she kiss him without thinking of the virus?
Could she get married, buy a house, and maybe paint it blue? Could she have children, drive a van, then sit in a lawn chair with all the other parents watching their children run up and down the soccer or football field? She’d never really thought about any of it before, and suddenly she could think of nothing else.
“I never thought I’d get married, you know. Not in my twenties, anyway.”
“I always thought I’d marry young. Being a lonely, almost-only child, I really wanted a family.” He twisted the straw paper around his fingers. “I still do.”
It seemed they were having a conversation about their relationship without actually having the conversation.
“Can you meet me at the WMA offices in the morning? Eight o’clock?” he said.
“I’ll be there.” Elizabeth slid from the booth with her soda. “Do you want dessert too? Remember Tina’s edict. On the house for our smoke-brain heroes.”
“Do you think I’m a hero?”
“Yes, I really do.”
“Cheryl, is Travis in?” Ryder paused at the admin’s desk, covered with stickies, calendars, and manuals. Cheryl adhered to an eclectic organizational style.
“In his office.” She was tweaking the return of her long, fake eyelashes with tweezers and a hand mirror.
“Am I hauling you into my controversy?” Ryder said to Elizabeth, flashing the collection of invoices and purchase orders he held in his hand.
“Consider me your backup in case he doesn’t believe you.”
Ryder knocked once, entering when Travis groused, “Enter.” His boss looked at Elizabeth. “And who is this?”
“Elizabeth Dorsey, from Dorsey Furniture accounting.” He plopped the evidence of his innocence on the desk. “She found these.”
“These being…?” Travis grabbed for the stack of papers, then rocked back in his wide, leather chair.
“Purchases in my name, but not my signature, Travis. Someone is ordering teak and cherry from the mill arm of Dorsey and charging it to my fire tower account.”
“We don’t know who fulfilled the orders at Dorsey,” Elizabeth added. “They abused a bug in the system.”
With a grunt, Travis rocked forward and spread the copies across his desk. “You found these?” He looked at Elizabeth. “Maybe Ryder knows someone at Dorsey Mill.”
“I’ve been to Ryder’s workshop, his house, and the fire tower. There is not one board of cherry or teak. Pine, yes, but that’s all.”
“Maybe he’s selling it. Making a profit. Maybe he’s in cahoots with the men he caught cutting timber.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Travis was a piece of work. A real piece of?—
“If you believe that, why is he still here?” Elizabeth said. “Why haven’t you fired him? Maybe you’re the one ordering cherry and teak.”
Travis fired out of his chair. “Excuse me, but I never?—”
“Doesn’t feel so good being unjustly accused, does it?” Elizabeth was unflinching.
Ryder grinned. He’d kiss her if he could. “Travis, someone is ordering lumber and charging it to us. To my fire tower account. You should report this.”
Travis picked through the evidence again, a shadow falling over his face. “All right, Donovan. For now, it looks like you’ve cleared your name. But the agency will still have to investigate.”
“I understand. And thank you, sir.” Ryder extended his hand to Travis.
It took a second, but the older man grasped his hand in a firm shake. “I’ll take it from here. You keep working on that old Hearts Bend fire tower.”
