AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Flint watched her walk out of his life and then calmly locked the door behind her.
Merry Christmas.
He allowed that one bitter thought and then got busy.
He’d do what it took. Just as he always had. He was going to be someone.
Not for Alana Gold. Not even for himself.
For Diamond Rose.
Chapter Eighteen
Four days later
Bill Coniff, who, it turned out, had a gambling problem, resigned from Owens Investments and quietly disappeared. After signing a full confession, as well as other documents at the behest of Howard’s team of lawyers, making sure he couldn’t malign Owens Investments, the Owens family, or ever again work as a trader in the State of California. In exchange Howard didn’t press charges because it was best for the company not to have it out there that they’d had a traitor in their midst.
Tamara discovered that Bill hadn’t originally planned to frame Flint; at first he’d truly been pissed that the guy was leaving. But not because of Howard. Because of himself.
As Flint’s boss, he got a percentage of the money Flint made for the company. But then he’d figured out that Howard knew about the siphoning of money thanks to an extra-long meeting Howard had with his accountant after the company taxes had been done. A meeting that Howard hadn’t shared with his top three people, as he usually did. And, after which, Howard had asked the three of them about their use of the charity account.
Bill had known by then that Flint was leaving. He’d known, too, that with Flint’s expertise, plus his background, he could easily frame him for his own wrongdoing. He’d seen a way out. And had been desperate enough to take it. And then Flint had changed his mind about leaving. He’d needed Flint gone. His chances of getting Howard to believe him would not only be much stronger that way, but he’d been afraid that, once accused, Flint would figure out for himself who was guilty. Bill had gambled on the fact that Howard would believe him over Flint if it ever came to a “his word against Flint’s” situation.
As much as Tamara wished differently, Flint wasn’t around to know about any of it, including Bill’s leaving, or the agreement between him and Owens Investments.
Sometime after she’d left him that Sunday night, he’d packed up Diamond Rose and gone to Owens Investments, clearing out his office and leaving his key in an envelope under Bill Coniff’s door. Howard had told her it had looked almost as though he’d purposely left behind a trail of his actions by staying within security-camera range anytime he could. He’d packed his office in the hallway, carrying things out and loading them into bags he’d brought with him, one by one. Showing the camera everything he was taking.
In tears, Tamara had asked for a copy of the tape. She watched it several times in the days that followed, sometimes staring only at Flint. And at others, finding herself looking at the precious baby she’d once held.
Once.
She started the job she’d accepted early and worked long hours so she’d be finished by Christmas. Focusing on the task and not on herself. She knew how to cope with grief.
And when the nightmares woke her, she lay in bed and replayed her time with Flint over and over—starting with the first meeting between her and her father in Howard’s office, to that last horrendous half hour at Flint’s house.
Working for her father, virtually undercover, to preserve the integrity of his business had not been wrong. Hanging out with Flint...that didn’t feel wrong.
Falling in love, though? Completely inappropriate. And yet if Mallory was right, she didn’t get to choose love, love chose her.
So what the hell? She’d been chosen to have a life of misery? Of unrequited love? First for the four children she’d lost? And now for Flint?
And little Diamond.
Even from a distance, that little girl had found her way through Tamara’s defenses.
Tamara was crying too much again.
She spent a lot of time with her parents. Going over lawyers’ paperwork with them as they moved immediately on getting Bill Coniff out of their lives. From start to finish had taken four days.
And now, here she was, on Saturday, two weeks and two days before Christmas—almost done with the current job and another beginning in the new year, with holiday functions to attend with her parents and shopping to do—walking up to Flint’s front door like an idiot.
She knocked, having no idea what she’d say to him. She’d already said it all. She’d explained. She’d taken full responsibility. She’d also told him she didn’t give a damn whether or not he was guilty. That she’d known her father wouldn’t press charges. That he’d be okay. She’d told him she’d fallen in love with him.
Nothing she’d said had mattered. She understood that, too.
Knocking a second time, she told herself that her behavior was bordering on asinine. But she had to see him. To let him know he was off the hook—they’d found their thief. Just so he didn’t worry that, on top of Stella’s order, he had another possible court situation to face.
And she needed to know he was okay.
