Before We Kiss (Fool's Gold #14)(72)

He glanced at the clock and saw he only had a few minutes until she was due to arrive. After printing out the spreadsheet, he carried all the paperwork over to his small conference table, then started toward the hall to greet her in the foyer. She walked in before he had a chance to head out.

“Hey,” she said, smiling when she saw him. “I’ve had an extra cup of coffee so I’m ready to talk numbers.”

She wore a green dress that made her eyes seem more hazel than brown. Her hair was curled, her expression relaxed and friendly. She was pretty, but not classically beautiful. Average height. To the untrained eye, she wouldn’t stand out in a crowd.

But he knew better. He knew that she loved her sisters fiercely, even when they frustrated her. That she was honest and concerned, without being a sucker, and that she was willing to stand up for what she believed.

“Sam? You okay?”

He crossed to her and took her in his arms. “You stood up to my mother,” he said as he kissed her.

She stiffened and drew back. “I, ah, have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He cupped her face in his hands. “My mother apologized for getting into my business and going through my things. There’s only one way that would ever happen.” He smiled at her. “Okay, two, but as far as I know, hell didn’t freeze over. So someone talked to her and I’m betting it was you.”

“You’re not mad?”

“That you looked out for me? No. I’m not.”

“Okay, then it was me.”

He chuckled, then kissed her. The second his mouth touched hers, he wanted to do more, but they were in his office in the middle of a workday.

He led her to the conference table and they sat down. He pulled the papers toward them.

“We talked about this before. You need to bill the cost of an item rather than the estimate. You have a clause to cover it in your contracts. Your clients know about it—you have a place for them to initial, saying they’ve read it.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “It’s just I start to feel bad when everything is going over the estimate. Sometimes it’s because of changes, but sometimes it’s not.”

He showed her the spreadsheet. “Here’s the total on the estimates for our weekend. Here’s the hours you billed.”

She pointed to that last number. “Then why don’t I have that in my checking account?”

“Because here’s what you actually paid for the items. By only billing Score the estimated amount rather than the actual invoice, you lost forty percent of your billable hours. Multiply that by every job you take and you’re not working for minimum wage.”

Dellina pulled the spreadsheet closer. “This makes it really clear. I can’t keep losing money this way. Why couldn’t I figure this out on my own?”

“You’re a one-person business. You don’t have time to be a financial genius.”

She glanced at him, her mouth curving up at the corners. “Like you?”

“Exactly.”

She gathered the papers and stood up. “I’m going to rebill you.”

“Good. And in the future?”

“I’ll bill the actual amount, not the estimate. I’ll feel guilty, but I’ll do it.”

“That’s my girl.” He rose.

She put the papers into her tote, then kissed him. “Thanks, Sam. This has been really helpful. You’re good at this and you explain things clearly. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Wanting stirred. Not just for sex, but for her. “Can I see you tonight?”

The smile returned. This time it was filled with promise. “I’d like that a lot.”

* * *

AT ABOUT THREE, Jack strolled into Sam’s office. He sat in one of the chairs across from the desk and leaned back. He tossed a football into the air, then caught it.

“Good party,” Jack said.

“That’s the feedback we’re getting.”

“We should do it every year. Invite different clients, but keep the events the same.”

Sam glared at him. “No. That’s not happening. Do you know what that weekend cost? And the work involved. We’re not doing it again. Ever.”

One eyebrow rose. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

“It’s easy for you to say that. You didn’t do anything but show up.” Sam paused for breath, then studied his friend. “And you’re kidding.”

“Pretty much, but you put on a good show.”

Sam relaxed in his chair. “Okay, then. Glad to be the entertainment.”

Jack tossed the football again. When he caught it, he put it on the desk. “Dellina’s nice.”

An odd observation. “Okay. Sure. Why does that matter?”

“You’re seeing her.” Jack held up a hand. “Don’t deny it. If I can figure it out, it’s obvious to everyone.”

Sam did his best to avoid shifting in his seat. “We’re hanging out,” he said, not willing to admit much more.

It wasn’t that he wanted to keep things a secret from his friends. It was more that if he defined it, named it, then he would have to acknowledge that he liked her. And once he went down that road, it was only a matter of time until the next disaster.