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Zoe bit her lip, not finding the situation at all funny. “I don’t understand what’s going on. I know I haven’t sent you any money.”
“Well, someone did.” The sound of computer keys clicking came over the phone. “I show a payment coming into our office two days ago.”
“Are you sure it was for my store?”
“I have a copy of the cashier’s check in your file. It says Second Chance Treasures on it. That’s your store, right?”
“Yes.” Zoe felt light-headed. Who could possibly have done something like that? “I can’t believe this happened.”
“Believe it. Is there anything else?”
“No. Thank you.”
Zoe hung up the phone and clasped her shaking hands together. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. On the one hand, the incredible gesture relieved a huge burden and left her feeling as if someone in this world cared about her well-being. It also meant she could move forward with a nearly clean slate. The store could stay open. She could continue her crusade to help victims of domestic violence. On the other hand, the fact that she’d needed to be bailed out filled her with shame and anger.
And the fact that the payment’s origin was a mystery bothered her. Who knew exactly how much she owed? The answer struck her a second later. She’d mentioned to Ryan that she was behind on the rent, not so that he’d help, but because she’d grown comfortable enough with him that she’d begun to share some of her fears as well as her hopes.
Had Ryan made the anonymous payment? He’d already demonstrated his helpfulness when he’d given her a place to live rent-free. But offering an empty apartment was different from shelling money out of his pocket. And why hadn’t he been upfront and offered her a loan? Because he knew she wouldn’t have taken the money?
Instead he’d snuck around behind her back?
And done something incredibly nice.
Meanwhile she was plotting to destroy his sister. How could she blithely accept his help while actively working to cause him harm?
Ryan had texted to say he was running a bit late, giving Zoe even more time to stew and fret about confronting him. As the afternoon had worn on, she’d changed her mind a dozen times about how to approach the subject. Outrage and appreciation went hand in hand as she’d reimagined her budget, finding ways to economize so she could repay him.
But all her judicious statements vanished as she opened her front door and spied him standing on the side porch, looking confident and authoritative in a blue-plaid blazer, gray slacks and white dress shirt. He looked relaxed, elegant and so happy to see her.
Zoe’s heart clenched, driving tears of frustration to her eyes.
“Damn it, Ryan,” she protested, wanting badly to feel either one way or another about him.
Angry. Happy. Hate. Love. Desire. Disgust.
Emotions swirled through her in a complicated tornado, moving too fast for her to latch onto just one.
“What’s the matter?” He frowned in confusion. “I texted and told you I was going to be late.”
“That’s not the problem,” she muttered, flashing the invoice she’d received from Dillworth Properties. “This is the problem. Did you do this?”
He took the paper from her and scanned it. “Looks like your rent is current. Congratulations.”
“It’s current because someone paid my rent for me. Was it you?”
For several heartbeats he looked as if he wasn’t going to answer truthfully, but he must have recognized she’d already decided he was responsible and wouldn’t let the matter drop.
“I know how worried you were about losing your lease and having to close the store.”
Although she’d expected his confession, she was stunned. What was he thinking? Days earlier he’d regarded her with suspicion. Now he was bailing out her store?
She didn’t ask him why he’d done it. His sympathetic expression illuminated his motives. He’d been trying to help her out. But the way he’d gone about it made her failure so much more acute. And how could she accept money from him when her purpose in getting close to him was to cause him and his sister harm? Contradictory forces tore at Zoe, making it hard for her to breathe.
“I’m going to pay you back every penny,” she said, fighting to lift her voice above a whisper. “It’s going to take me a while, but the store’s doing better every single month.”
“You don’t have to pay me back,” he replied, returning the invoice. “Consider it a donation to your cause.”
Zoe’s hands balled into fists. Admitting she couldn’t afford to turn enough of a profit to support her dream roused her shame. Through their entire marriage, every time Tristan had given her money, she’d surrendered her independence and damaged her self-worth.
