Holly Banks Full of Angst (Village of Primm, #1)(59)

“Hard to say. It’s not illegal to incorporate a company in the British Virgin Islands. It’s how you use that company that becomes questionable in the eyes of the law. Bethanny and I are tasked with pulling a package together that demonstrates our company had no knowledge of our clients’ illegal activities. That we set up those shell companies according to US law. The firm needs to establish distance. Clear its name. Or all of the partners in the firm are going down. Reputations and careers ruined. Including mine.”

“So you’ve done nothing wrong, and the company’s done nothing wrong.”

“Correct. I mean, sort of.” He squeezed his eyes shut. Real tight. Then opened them. “There are teams in offices across the United States focused only on retracing a particular client’s steps. Bethanny and I are one of those teams. If we can map the money trail, prove the firm didn’t take part in anything that was illegal, and if we cooperate fully with federal investigators, then I think we’ll be in the clear. I think.”

“Are you having an affair?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But you’re always with Bethanny.” Holly’s face felt hot.

“Holly, I’m trying to distance myself from what could be a really bad situation—legally, and for my career. I’ll have zero chance of providing for you and Ella if my career tanks. I’m trying to keep my job—my reputation. Honestly? I don’t have time for an affair. That’s the last thing on my mind.”

“Why did you take a shower at the gym?” Holly pressed. “Your clothes are perfectly clean. Did you work out?”

“The clothes I worked out in”—Jack pointed toward the front door, toward the hallway that led to the kitchen—“are stinking up my gym bag. I took a shower so I could relax and not run up our water bill.”

“But I saw you. She was eating your french fries.”

“No offense”—he sounded angry—“but if I was going to have an affair, I wouldn’t take her to Wendy’s.”

“Where would you take her? Burger King? Chick-fil-A?” Because Wendy’s is our place for fast food, our number one single combo—no cheese, no onions—medium size with a Dr Pepper.

“I wouldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t take her to dinner? You’d just sleep with her and toss her out? You’re that shallow, Jack? That cruel?”

He reached for her hands, pulled her into an embrace and then squeezed—hard. “I wouldn’t take her to dinner,” he said, “because I wouldn’t have an affair. I’m not made like that, and you know it. Jeez, Holly. I took a vow.”

“Were you really at the gym just now?”

“Will you stop? Of course I was at the gym.” He released her. “If I don’t relieve some of this stress, my heart will attack me.” He lifted her chin. “Holly?” His eyes searched hers. Like he was about to kiss her but saw something and changed his mind. “You look pale. Almost. Gray.”

“I think . . .” Holly’s face, now her stomach. It felt . . . “I feel sick. Like. A lot sick.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Now I feel bad.”

“Don’t. It’s not you. Well, okay, it is you. But it’s something else too.” Ugh. My stomach. “I think I ate something. Cookies maybe.” Was Mary-Margaret telling the truth? Was there a nationwide peanut butter recall? “And I have to bake thirteen pies for this weekend’s Cherry Pie Festival.”

“Pies?” He took a huge step backward. Like that was the most shocking thing either of them had said on this front porch.

“What’s so funny?” That’s offensive, Jack. Why’d you step back like that? “Now I’m pissed.”

“Pies?” he said. Just like that: “Pies?” Why was he grinning? He just said he was in dire circumstances. What? Now he was laughing?

“Stop laughing.” She swatted his arm. “It’s not funny. It’s an auction for the school. I’m on the Pie Committee.”

“Pie Committee?”

“Don’t make fun of it, Jack. I’m serious. There’s this Pie Mom, Emily. Seriously, Jack? Stop laughing. I might be secretary of the PTA now too.” She bent over, placed her hands on her knees. “And I flunked clipboards, so I’m probably Room Mom for Ella’s class.” She started breathing heavily. Who’s having a panic attack now? “Since we’re both confessing, I hope there’s room on the credit card because we’ll be getting a bill for the bus I hit this morning.”

“Big day,” he acknowledged, teary eyed and with pinkened cheeks from laughing. He helped her stand upright.

“Yeah, well, what do you expect?” She shrugged. “I’m a school mom.”

“School moms kick butt.”

“Yup.”

They fist-bumped.

Number twelve Petunia Lane? Jack and Holly? They fought. Holly figured every couple in every house argued from time to time. Amber-brown cedar mulch. Shred it up, spread it around. When mulch happened, they’d deal with it. But offshore shell companies? Money laundering and insurance fraud? Tax evasion? Life in the Village of Primm was almost perfect. But newcomers? Apparently, they’d reached their limit. The point of no return. Today was rough. Tomorrow? As yet unknown.