Family Fortune

Crystal paced to the window. She tugged the heavy drape aside and pressed her nose to the glass, hoping the return of sunshine would calm her unsettled feelings. Paul’s death had cast a gloom over the family. And then, before anyone could finish grieving, Margaret had vanished without a word. Crystal returned repeatedly to one basic truth: it simply wasn’t like Margie to do this. No one was more devoted to family than Margaret Lyon.

“Hey, what’s so interesting outside?”

Crystal turned and blinked. The low light in the room made it seem dark. “Oh—I didn’t hear you say goodbye and hang up.”

“I’m not surprised. You looked a million miles away. Sorry for the interruption. Where were we?”

“Uh...you signed the agreement. I would’ve left, but I didn’t know where you wanted me to put your copy. Also, I thought maybe you might have questions.”

“Will I see you at work?” He grinned rakishly and winked.

Since Crystal had just heard him fawning over the woman on the phone, she thought he had some nerve. Not to mention he obviously paid the woman’s bills, which relegated her to a status beyond that of casual acquaintance.

Crystal mustered the no-nonsense scowl she reserved for employees who’d overshot their budgets or overspent on their travel-expense accounts. “You’d better hope you don’t have dealings with me at work. I manage the money and oversee all department budgets. When people have to see me, it usually means they’re in financial trouble. Not a good place to be.”

For a moment he looked as guilty as a boy caught stealing a slice from a birthday cake. As quickly, his eyes turned serious. “Is it hard to learn how to set up a budget?”

His question took Crystal by surprise. She wondered if the woman’s car problems were the catalyst. Why hadn’t she realized it might be his wife? For all she knew, he could be married and have six kids. Not all men wore wedding rings. “I do more than set up budgets. I manage all financial transactions for the radio and television stations owned by the Lyon family. I have an undergraduate degree in accounting and business administration. I have a master’s in finance, and I’m a CPA.”

“Wow.”

He appeared so frankly impressed that Crystal felt herself blush. “Forgive me for sounding like I was bragging. I’m sure your financial adviser has at least those qualifications. Anyway...you’ll want to notify whoever it is about the change in your financial status. He or she will want to do a new profile and possibly rearrange your portfolio.”

“My portfolio.” Cale couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he’d somehow managed to fritter away ten years’ worth of income. Tough tightfisted Crystal Jardin probably had the first dime she’d ever earned enshrined under glass. “My, uh, portfolio is in good hands.”

She smiled. “Well, we’ve taken care of everything I came to do. Nate and André’s business cards are in the envelope if you think of any questions after I leave. You might tune in to the sports report at five. You’ll be a hot topic, I’m sure.”

The green in his eyes changed so rapidly into muddied distress Crystal let her handbag fall on the chair again. “What’s the matter? Your retirement and launch into sports media are bound to make headlines.”

“Leland said the Sinners won’t make any announcement until they sign a new quarterback,” he said bitterly. “Lee swore he’d give me ample warning. He thinks the coach may play the first two season games with his backup—as if he’s waiting for my return.”

Observing Cale’s rancor, Crystal felt a tug of sympathy again. “You haven’t told anyone, have you. I’ll bet not even your family.”

He shook his head.

“I see.” She sat down again and fiddled with her purse. “So the exercise we just went through is really just insurance for you. Do you really think you’ll be through physical therapy and ready by that third game? You’re counting on the Sinners rehiring you?”

“They should never have let me go,” he said coldly.

“Wouldn’t it have been crueler to leave you dangling? Which is what you plan on doing to WDIX.” Crystal said with equal coldness. Enough to bring color to Caleb’s cheeks.

He picked up the paper he’d signed and shook it at her. “I read this thoroughly. You said yourself it’s a letter of intent. They intend to hire me if and when I become available. You said it’s not a contract.”

“It’s not. But with you signing it, André and Nate are declaring the job is yours. Nate’s filling in until you start. You’re on the payroll as of now, and they won’t be looking for someone else. It’s referred to as a gentlemen’s agreement. Which is apparently beyond your comprehension, Mr. Tanner.”

“It’s Caleb. I thought we agreed.”

“So sue me. You agreed to work for WDIX-TV as soon as the doctor signs your release.”

He raised his hands. “Hold it. Arguing is getting us nowhere.”

“At last. Something on which we see eye to eye.” She crossed her legs at the knee and swung one foot back and forth. “Do you want to start unscrambling the mess?” she asked. “Or shall I?”

“You, by all means. Ladies first. You might start by telling me why you lied when I asked if I had to sign a contract for a certain number of years. You said no.”

“That’s right. I stand by that statement. But you did indicate you wanted to work for us.”

“No. I definitely recall telling you I wanted to play football.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“There’s no ‘but’ to it. From the way you talked, I thought this letter simply meant your boss wanted to hire me.”

“He did. Does,” she stammered. “By signing it, what do you think you promised?”

“To take the job if I’m available after the doctor releases me. I figured it locked me into a salary and benefits and that if one of your competitors showed up and offered me a better deal, I’d have to turn them down.”

Color streaked up Crystal’s neck.

“Bingo! That’s precisely the reason you muscled your way in here and bullied me into signing. I might have grown up on a melon farm, Crystal, but I did not leave my brains underneath a vine.”

“I resent your insinuating I tricked you. I tried to talk Nate, André and Mike out of hiring you.”

He stared at her for a lengthy minute with an odd twist to his mouth. “Do you mind telling me why? Since we’ve never met before...”

“Not until yesterday.” The red extended to her ears now. “Look, negotiations won’t improve if we get personal.”

He crossed his arms and said provocatively, “See there? You’ve admitted to not knowing anything about me. I happen to think negotiations would improve a lot if we got personal. By the way,” he added in a low voice, “you ought to wear your hair down, instead of braided. Men have an age-old fantasy about women with long hair.”

Crystal jumped up, snatched her purse and her saxophone case. “Sexual innuendos aren’t acceptable in the business world. You’re crude. You probably belch, too, and pick your teeth in public. And now you have my objections to hiring you. Goodbye, Mr. Tanner. I’ve done what I was sent to do. If you get the urge to rip up your copy of the letter of intent, do call WDIX Human Resources. Otherwise, our attorney may be meeting with yours. If that happens, remember they’re the ones who eat caviar and drive Lamborghinis.”

His delighted laughter halted Crystal at the door. Before she could ask what he found so funny, the door opened and a burly male orderly blocked her way with a wheelchair.

“Caleb Tanner?” The man with his hand on the chair consulted a clipboard lying on the seat. “I’m a big fan of yours,” the orderly said. And he was if his look of awe was a measure of the truth.

Cale’s laughter died. “Thanks, man. What’s this all about?” He indicated the wheelchair.

“Didn’t Doc Forsythe tell you?”

Cale frowned. “Tell me what? He hasn’t been in today.”

“He signed an order for physical therapy.” The other man eyed Cale’s traction apparatus. “Maybe there’s been a mistake. Although I only pick ‘em up and transport ’em,” he said. “Normally guys don’t start therapy until they’re unhitched from traction.”

Caleb reached for the top pulley. “It’s simple enough to unhook. I’ve been champing at the bit waiting to start therapy.”

“Should you call someone?” Crystal asked the orderly.

He glanced at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Are you Tanner’s wife? That’d be a good idea, ma’am. I’ll phone the physical-therapy office right now.” He crossed to the phone on Caleb’s nightstand.