"No. We learned about it later. There was a copy of a newspaper article in your office."
"Oh." As simple as that, she thought, and as stupid. She must have missed one when she'd stuffed them into her briefcase. "I see. That made it all look worse."
"It clouded the issue. I should tell you that when Detective Kusack contacted me, I was immensely relieved, and not terribly surprised. I could never reconcile the woman I knew with one who would cheat."
"But you reconciled it enough to suspend me," she said, and heard the brittleness of her own voice.
"Yes. However much I regretted it, and however much I regret it now, I had no choice. I have called each of the partners and relayed this new information. We're meeting in an hour to discuss it. And to discuss the fact that we have an embezzler in our employ."
He paused a moment, gathering his thoughts. "You're very young. It would be difficult for you to understand the dreams of a lifetime, and the way they change. At my age, you have to be very careful, very selective about dreams. You begin to become aware that each one may be your last. The firm has been mine for most of my life. I've nurtured it, sweated over it, brought my children into it" He smiled a little. "An accounting firm doesn't seem like something anyone would dream over."
"I understand." She wanted to touch his arm, but couldn't. "I thought you might. Its reputation is my reputation. Having it damaged in this way makes me realize how fragile even such a prosaic dream can be."
She couldn't help but bend. "It's a good firm, Mr. Bittle. You made something solid there. The people who work for you work for you because you treat them well, because you make them part of the whole. That isn't really prosaic."
"I'd like you to consider coming back. I realize that you may feel uncomfortable doing so until after this matter is fully resolved. However, Bittle and Associates would be very fortunate to have you back on board. As a full partner."
When she didn't speak, he took a step toward her. "Kate, I don't know whether this will make matters worse or better between us, but I want you to know that this offer had already been discussed and voted on prior to this… this nightmare. You were unanimously approved."
She had to ease herself back down on the arm of the chair. "You were going to make me a partner."
"Marty nominated you. I hope you're aware that you always had his complete trust and support. Amanda seconded your nomination. Ah, I believe that was why she was so harsh when she believed you had taken the money from escrow. You'd earned the offer, Kate. I hope, once you've had time to think it over, you'll accept it."
It was difficult to deal with despair and elation at once. Not long before she would have leapt at such an offer, seized it, hugged it to her. She opened her mouth, certain that acceptance would pop out.
"I do need some time." She heard her own words with a kind of vague surprise. "I have to think it through."
"Of course you do. Please, before you consider going elsewhere, give us a chance to negotiate."
"Yes, I will." She held out a hand, just as Byron and the detective returned. "Thank you for coming to see me."
She was still dazed when she led Bittle and Detective Kusak out, said her good-byes. In silence she walked back into the house with Byron, stood staring at nothing.
"Well?" he prompted.
"He offered me a partnership." She said each word slowly, unsure whether she was savoring them or weighing them.
"Not just to make up for all this. They'd already voted on it before everything got screwed up.
He's willing to negotiate my terms."
Byron angled his head. "Why aren't you smiling?"
"Huh?" She blinked, stared at him, then burst into laughter. "A partnership!" She threw her arms around his neck and let him swing her. "Byron, I can't tell you what this means to me. I'm too dazzled to tell myself. It's like—it's like being cut from the minors, then being signed to bat cleanup for the Yankees."
"The Braves," he corrected, home team loyal to the last "Congratulations. I think we should have mimosas with that French toast."
"Let's." She kissed him hard. "And go light on the OJ."
"A dollop for color," he assured her, as they walked into the kitchen arm in arm. He released her to get champagne out of the refrigerator. "Well, aren't you going to pick up the phone?"
She opened the glass-fronted cabinet that held his wine glasses. "The phone?"
"To call your family?"
"Uh-uh. This is too big for the phone. As soon as we eat—" she grinned foolishly at the pop of the cork—"I'm going to Templeton House. This requires the personal touch. It's the perfect way to send Aunt Susie and Uncle Tommy back to France." The minute he'd finished pouring she lifted her glass. "Here's to the IRS."
He hissed through his teeth. "Do we have to?"