“My name is Spring Eve Barbour, and I do assure you, Mr. Alexander, I’m a very reputable person.”
Spring stood in the kitchen doorway, addressing Chad formally, letting him in on her awareness of the seriousness of his questions. She didn’t feel at all nervous, trusting in Uncle William’s dictates to always deal with the truth, but she thought if she’d had anything to hide, Chad’s narrowed stare might unnerve her.
“I’ll be glad to trot out my references if you want to see them, but Dana will verify that she checked my credibility and found that I am who I am and all that stuff before Honor and I struck our bargain.”
Spring moved into the small kitchen on this last. She took into account the deep lines fanning Chad’s eyes and the taut skin across his cheekbones, and wondered if he’d stay awake long enough to eat anything even if she prepared it.
Opening the refrigerator door, she stared at the contents to determine what might be the quickest thing to serve. He’d want something hot, she thought, but a man that seriously tired also needed something reasonably balanced on his stomach before he went to bed.
“How about scrambled eggs and ham?” She turned to look at him over her shoulder as she asked. He’d removed his jacket and tie, and unbuttoned his shirt a few buttons down. His head rested against the wall, causing his eyes to go half-mast, the blue irises deepening to a dark stirring.
They caused a stirring in her middle, too. Something that spread throughout her like hot sweet cider in her mouth, with a spicy kick on the edges of her tongue.
“And, um, I’m twenty-three.” Why that was suddenly important, she didn’t know—except that she wanted him to know. She might be new to the Big Apple, but she wasn’t too young and naive to care for a young girl.
Yet that wasn’t the only reason she wanted him to know she was well past legal…for anything.
“Twenty-three,” he repeated as though he didn’t quite believe her. His quick glance down her faded jeans and T-shirt didn’t help her cause.
Spring knew she didn’t look her age. Her twin, Autumn, and she had found it rather funny these last few years when someone mistook them for younger, but it had never been a real problem. A little makeup usually helped, but she seldom wore it unless she was going out.
Since he hadn’t said no to the eggs, she pulled out the egg carton and other ingredients, and faced the counter and stove top to work, which gave him her back to view.
Spring no longer wondered about his skepticism. It was natural. While she’d heard all about Honor’s problems with her predecessor, obviously Chad had gone about his business in ignorance. She hadn’t given much thought to the fact that his messages from Europe were sketchy. She’d thought Chad had been informed about the change in the household. About her being there.
Now she was in an awkward position.
“Honor, why don’t you toast a couple of biscuits, too. Or—” she glanced at Chad again, gauging his reaction “—would you prefer toast? All we have on hand is wheat bread.”
“Whatever you have is fine,” he muttered. “And yes, I think I would like to see those references, if you don’t mind.”
“All right. I’ll find them while you eat.”
“Really, Chad, you don’t have to do that,” Honor protested. “Dana already checked all of Spring’s references and found them excellent. Besides, Spring really helped me out of a jam, and we get along terrifically. You just don’t know—”
“That’s just it, kiddo. I don’t know. And I do need to see them. What kind of a lawyer would I be if I didn’t pay close attention to details? Or follow up? It’s my job to look into the inner workings of corporate issues and mergers, and make sure the reported backgrounds and company assets and potential is as stated.”
“But I couldn’t have—”
“He’s quite right, Honor,” Spring said, sending her young friend a “Cool it” glance. She’d corner Honor later over this lack of communication, but now wasn’t the time. “He’d be a poor kind of brother to accept me at face value without checking my references, when we live together. Um, rather, when I live in your apartment and come from who-knows-where, as far as he knows.”
Her agreement didn’t seem to placate him much, but Chad’s attention turned to the plate of fluffy eggs and slice of warmed ham she set before him.
A moment later, Honor retrieved a couple of biscuits from the toaster oven, split, buttered, then browned under the broiler as Spring had shown her. She placed them next to his plate.
Spring found the sugarless strawberry jam and set it in the center of the table.
Spring stepped back and folded her hands in front of her. On the other side of Chad, Honor shifted from one foot to the other, pursing her mouth. Chad looked from his sister to her, then down at his plate.
It struck Spring that they were like two young servant girls from a century ago, hovering over the master to see what else they could do to please him. She wanted to laugh at her mental image, drawn from reading all those English classics of which Uncle William approved. Plus the historical novels she read undercover, to which she’d been addicted in her teen years.
She bit her lip to keep her giggle under control. Honor gave her a puzzled glance, to which she answered with a slight shake of her head.
Spring did miss her sister. Autumn would have read her mind instantly, and understood her line of thought. Even if Spring explained it, Honor Suzanne was simply too young to catch the humor.
Then she saw the rising suspicion in Chad’s glinting dark blue eyes, and her humor vanished. He’d never get the joke.
Well, smothering him with kindness wasn’t such a good idea, Spring decided. He wouldn’t understand the attention as mere kindness, or he’d misinterpret it altogether.
Turning, she left the kitchen to search for her references. A month ago, she’d no notion that she’d find being a companion to a young girl to hold so much complication. Or fun, either. She and Honor got along as though born to be friends. Honor was as new to the city as she, and they’d been exploring Manhattan together in their free time.
A few moments later, she reentered the kitchen. Chad had nearly cleaned his plate, she quickly noted.
“…and you should see some of the collections! Funny stuff from a long time ago. Centuries, even,” Honor said, telling of their recent visit to the Design Museum.
“Most of it wasn’t funny when it was designed,” Spring reminded her with a grin. “And a generation or two past doesn’t quite make it into the ‘centuries’ category for Mrs. Pine or Mr. Steward, now does it?”
Chad raised a brow. “Who?”
“These old people at church,” Honor explained, then hastily added, “But they’re really neat. They, like, visited our Sunday night Jumpstart a couple of weeks ago and told us about how it was when they were teenagers. Mr. Steward enlisted in the Army to fight in World War II when he was only seventeen.”
“What’s Jumpstart?” Again, Chad raised a brow, but then lowered it into a frown. Finished eating, he leaned back in his chair and sipped his tea. Giving it a quick glance, Spring noticed his startled reaction at the herbal concoction. Yet he made no comment, merely returning his cup to its saucer.
“It’s our weekly meeting for high schoolers, mostly,” Honor explained. “Lots of college kids come, too. Only, we have more than just kids who attend. It’s awesome, Chad. You should come sometime. Spring does, and—”
“What do you do there?”
“We Jumpstart the week with Bible Study and prayer and encouraging stuff. And Josh Nolan, our youth minister, usually talks, but it’s not like a heavy sermon or anything.”
Chad’s eyes began to droop.
“Perhaps you’d rather hear all of this tomorrow,” Spring murmured, thinking they were losing his attention fast. It wasn’t fair to overload an already exhausted mind, and expect that mind to later retain an ounce of intelligent memory, Uncle William used to say. Of course, he would say that especially when she and Autumn wanted to talk to him at the same time.
Spring smiled inwardly at the memory. Uncle William had died a few months before, having urged her and Autumn to pursue their dreams, and leaving each of them with a small legacy to do so.
Now she was having adventures in New York City.
Chad assessed her face a moment before saying, “Some of it can wait. Right now, I want to know more about you, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure. Of course. Here you go—” She placed a copy of her resume in front of him. It gave her educational background and work and personal references from Kansas City, her hometown. She hadn’t a wide range of worldly experience, she was ready to admit, but she felt perfectly confident in watching over Honor Suzanne and guiding her schoolwork. After all, she’d been the more nurturing of the two sisters at home, and could run a household with perfect ease.
“I attended a Midwest community college, which I know isn’t very impressive by any of the big school standards, but I’ve worked steadily since I turned eighteen and I have a good work ethic. Uncle William saw to that. He raised my sister Autumn, and me.”
“What are you doing here in New York?” Chad asked.
“I’m a dress designer. Or I want to be. I’ve been putting in my applications around the city and showing some of my sketches.”
“I see. And do your duties here leave you enough time for all that?” His tone had an edge of sarcasm, but Spring ignored it while Honor gazed adoringly at her brother.
“She’s bound to be accepted someplace, Chad,” Honor put in enthusiastically. “She’s really good. That dress she was wearing when you came in is for one of the women in our church. She’s a ballet dancer and needed a dressmaker, so Dana suggested—”
“You run a business out of this apartment?” Chad sat forward abruptly, his tone sharp.
“Well, it’s not exactly a real business,” Spring answered. “Only a little sewing.”
“Do you accept money for your services?”
“Um, yes. A few dollars. But—”
“You must stop it immediately! This apartment is strictly residential and has an airtight code against using it for business purposes. You could get us fined or kicked out of our lease for such an offence.”
“Oh, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“We didn’t know that, Chad,” Honor said, her lower lip beginning to tremble. “Don’t be mad. We just thought to earn a little extra spending money…”
“Spending money? I think for what I pay you,” he all but sputtered at Spring before turning to Honor, “and your allowance, that you’d have quite enough for mere pocket money. What have you been buying, anyway?”
Spring decided it wasn’t the time to inform him she hadn’t been paid, or that Honor hadn’t received an allowance for weeks. Already, she knew it would disturb him. He’d learn the necessary details in due time.
“Nothing out of reason, Mr. Alexander. Only tickets to special exhibits and a few restaurant meals.” Few was the operative word, Spring thought, with New York prices so much higher than what she was used to. “But that didn’t come out of anyone’s salary.”
“No, I’m sure it didn’t. Household accounts, I suppose. Well, I’ll look at the receipts and do the accounting tomorrow. You did keep receipts, didn’t you?”
Spring hadn’t meant the expenditures had come from the household accounts, but she guessed he’d discover that soon enough, too. “Actually, I didn’t see a need.”
His frown deepened. “Really? How did you expect to justify the budget I left for you? What about the credit card bills?”
“I didn’t see a budget.” She brushed her bangs from her eyes, beginning to feel a little ruffled. “Sorry. But you’ll find everything is in order since I’ve been here, and we have no outstanding bills. We simply pay cash as we go.”
“Is there anything left from the discretionary fund I left for Mrs. Hinkle’s use?”
“What discretionary fund?” Spring asked.
“No, Chad. That’s what I wanted to tell you,” Honor said. “There’s nothing left in the cash account or the credit card limit. Mrs. Hinkle spent it all, including my allowance, in the first ten days after you left.”
“What?” His mouth dropped as he tried to take in what Honor had said. “But there was enough there to cover everything except the most dire of emergencies, and she was directed to apply to Walter Peebles if there was any greater need. How could she have run through what should’ve lasted three months?”
“Well, she did. And Uncle Walter turned down a couple of requests she made to him. When I called Uncle Walter, he told me what to do. We notified all our credit card accounts, and closed out the two bank accounts and opened new ones. Dana and Spring helped me do that. But you have to sign the new bank cards, Uncle Walter said.”
Chad brushed a hand over his face. Had he fallen through a rabbit hole?
“Let me get this right. You say Mrs. Hinkle took all the cash I’d left for spending money, cashed out the household account, and made inroads on the credit cards, and you caught her jimmying my desk, as well?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Spring—”
“Good grief, Honor Suzanne—” Chad nearly shot out of his chair. “Why didn’t you call me? What on earth were you thinking, not to inform me of such a huge problem?”