Love Handles (Oakland Hills #1)(53)

And after seeing her in the meeting, Bev realized they had met once before, weeks earlier—in the bathroom. It was hard to reconcile the tough woman from that morning with the sobbing creature she’d tried to help on her first visit to Fite, but it was her. She had a low, distinctive voice, the same short manicure.

Bev leaned back in the couch and smiled at her. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Did I have a choice?”

“You could have put it off. Said you were busy.”

“Not my style,” Rachel said, holding her eyes.

Bev smiled. “It would be mine.” She looked down at the hands in her lap. She might as well get to the point. “So, Rachel, what was the deal between you and my grandfather?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Bev saw Rachel’s face jump with alarm, and the long thigh next to Bev’s on the couch stiffened and pulled away. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve got the files,” Bev said. “You were treated differently. Is there something I should know?”

Rachel drew back until there wasn’t another inch on the couch she could have escaped into. “What are you implying?”

“Rachel. You make more money than your boss. You have four weeks of vacation time—”

“Which I never get to take.”

“—and yet you were never officially promoted. And from what I’ve heard, you should have been years ago. I’d just like to know why.”

“Got some special theory you want to share?”

Bev looked into her intelligent brown eyes and saw the fear hiding there. “I hear he seemed omniscient. Maybe that got harder as he got older. I can imagine how much he would appreciate having an insider—”

Rachel stared at her. “Insider?”

“You know, somebody he could talk to. About what was going on,” Bev said, but saw immediately that was the wrong thing to say by the horrified amusement on Rachel’s face.

“You think I was spying for him.” She laughed bitterly and stood up.

“Wait—I don’t think anything. I’m just asking.”

“Nobody works as hard as I do,” Rachel said. “Ask anyone.”

“I have. That’s why I want to promote you,” Bev patted the seat next to her. “That’s why I need to know if there’s some reason I shouldn’t.”

That stopped her. “You want to promote me?”

“For reasons of my own.”

“You just met me.”

“Exactly,” Bev said. “So, is there a reason you want to keep a job title that’s beneath you?”

Rachel sank back down on the couch. “Not now.”

“Will you tell me why there was before?”

Rachel hesitated. Then she shook her head no.

“Do you think you might tell me, some day?”

Shrugging, Rachel said, “Maybe.”

That was as much as she could expect on the first try. Bev got up and went over to the kitchenette, where plates of extra cookies were piled up from that morning. “Help me eat some of these.” She reached for the coffee pot. “Then we’ll carry the rest down to the lunch room.”

Rachel came over and propped a knee on a stool. “You really baked those yourself.”

“I’m big on bribes.” Bev handed over a snickerdoodle.

Rachel took it. “Me too. It’s the only way I can get my stuff done on time.”

Bev poured her a cup of coffee and placed it in front of her, watching her chew and relax. Bev was just about ready to go in for the kill when—

“Rachel!” Liam stood at the door. “There you are.”

Rachel jumped to her feet and abandoned the cookie. “I better get back to work.”

Liam strode over. “How’re you doing, Rachel?”

“We’re still talking,” Bev said, annoyed that Rachel was edging to the door. “Wait—at least finish your cookie.”

Liam scowled at the counter. “Cookies again? How many of your preschoolers made it to kindergarten? Without diabetes?”

“Liam,” Bev said. “Rachel and I hadn’t finished.”

“She doesn’t have time.” He slid a plate of the cookies out of the way to prop an elbow on the counter. “You don’t realize how this place shuts down without her.”

Bev bit into a cookie. “I was just offering her a promotion.”

“A what?”

“Why is that such a surprise?” Bev asked. “You just told me the place shuts down without her.”

“You just met her,” Liam said. Rachel, who lingered in the doorway, nodded. “This is like what you did in the meeting this morning, isn’t it? Just trying to get people to like you.”

Bev saw Rachel’s annoyance at the subtle insult. “Maybe I should give her your job,” Bev said to him. “You can take over George’s seat at the back door.”

“I’d love it. When do I start?”

Bev turned to Rachel. “The promotion I’m offering might not be what you want.”

“I don’t mind a title change.”

“Nothing like putting ‘Creative Director’ on your email sig,” Liam said.