Page 119 of Confessions

“What’s he supposed to do?” she asked, anger beginning to burn through her blood.

“As soon as he’s well enough, I’ll find him a job—a decent job, mind you—with the company. However, he won’t have the same responsibilities as he did while he was foreman.”

“Or the same salary.”

Thomas lifted the shoulder of his expensive wool suit. “I do have a way to help out.”

She didn’t believe him and she didn’t bother hiding it. “My folks aren’t interested in your charity, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”

“Of course not.” He offered her a tentative smile. “The reason I’m bringing this all up to you is that the company annual report is due in a couple of months. We always had the photographs taken by Rory Jaeger.”

Was it her imagination or was Thomas smirking behind his cool blue eyes? She nearly shivered, for she was certain that he already knew every intimate detail of her life.

“I worked for him a long time ago.”

“And, as I understand it, you’ll be working with him again.”

So he did know! Carlie wondered if there was any word of gossip in Gold Creek that Thomas Fitzpatrick didn’t hear. “It looks that way. If things work out.”

“Good. Then I was hoping I could ask you to do the pictures for this year’s report. We’d need shots of the logging camps, the trees that are growing through reforestation, and photographs of the other phases of our business—oil wells and the like.”

“Have you talked to Rory about this?”

“He insisted on throwing the business your way and, in light of your father’s situation, I thought it was a good idea.”

As if he ever did anything noble. She itched to tell him to take his business and shove it, but she was more practical than that. She was in no position to turn away a job. Any job.

“What do you say?”

She hesitated, then looked him squarely in the eye. “I’ll call you once I set up shop.”

“Looking forward to it,” Thomas said amiably as he handed her his business card. His gaze lingered on hers a second longer than was normal and Carlie swallowed hard. Was it her imagination? He placed his hand on her shoulder, as if feeling the texture of her dress. The touch was intimate and Carlie took a step away. “Give my best to your dad.”

He walked back to the living room to join his wife and daughter. June stiffened at his touch on her elbow and Toni didn’t even look his way.

Wealth didn’t guarantee happiness, Carlie thought, tapping the narrow edge of his card against the counter, grateful her interview with him was over. Thomas Fitzpatrick might be one of the richest men in Gold Creek, but he’d already buried one son, and his second was in the legal battle of his life and his third—his bastard—Jackson Moore, refused to even speak with him. That left Antoinette “Toni” Fitzpatrick, pretty and petite, with dark blond hair and blue eyes and an attitude that wouldn’t quit.

It was rumored that Toni was more trouble than his other children combined.

Yes, Thomas was an unhappy man. Carlie stuffed his card into her purse and walked through the back door.

Outside, the night was still and snow continued to fall. Thousands of tiny lights illuminated the gazebo and boathouse, to reflect in the dark, shimmering waters of the lake. Somewhere overhead an owl hooted softly.

It was peaceful here. Serene. If she let herself she could forget all her problems with her family. With the Powells. With Thomas Fitzpatrick. With Ben. She frowned at the thought of him—handsome and rigid in his military best. A man who saw the world in terms of black and white, wrong or right, good or bad. No in-between for Ben Powell.

She turned, intending to slip through the breezeway when she saw him, standing near the far side of the gazebo, snow collecting on his shoulders and in his hair.

“Just can’t tear yourself away, can you?” he said without bothering to hide his animosity.

“I was about to leave.”

“After your little chat with Fitzpatrick.”

She glanced to the house and the kitchen window where the lights cast squares of light onto the snow. Inside, the caterers were busy refilling trays. Carlie could watch their movements as clearly as if she were in the room. Obviously Ben had seen all of her exchange with Fitzpatrick. “We had business to discuss.”

His lips tightened at the corners. “He’s trouble, Carlie.”

“So you’ve finished insulting me and now you’re giving me warnings?”