“No way to make a living,” he murmured as he went on to the spreadsheet he’d started to track the changes.
He wondered how many times she’s gone through this before. She handled a lot of weddings and parties. From what she’d hinted at, she was struggling financially. He could see why. The difference in what she charged her customers and what she was paying vendors ate into her profits. He would guess there had been several jobs where she’d lost money, despite the hours she put into the project.
He pulled out her contract and read it through again. There was a section that detailed how estimates and actual prices were handled. The words clearly explained that the client would pay the actual price. The problem was Dellina herself.
He glanced at the clock and saw he only had a few minutes until she was due to arrive. After printing out the spreadsheet, he carried all the paperwork over to his small conference table, then started toward the hall to greet her in the foyer. She walked in before he had a chance to head out.
“Hey,” she said, smiling when she saw him. “I’ve had an extra cup of coffee so I’m ready to talk numbers.”
She wore a green dress that made her eyes seem more hazel than brown. Her hair was curled, her expression relaxed and friendly. She was pretty, but not classically beautiful. Average height. To the untrained eye, she wouldn’t stand out in a crowd.
But he knew better. He knew that she loved her sisters fiercely, even when they frustrated her. That she was honest and concerned, without being a sucker, and that she was willing to stand up for what she believed.
“Sam? You okay?”
He crossed to her and took her in his arms. “You stood up to my mother,” he said as he kissed her.
She stiffened and drew back. “I, ah, have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “My mother apologized for getting into my business and going through my things. There’s only one way that would ever happen.” He smiled at her. “Okay, two, but as far as I know, hell didn’t freeze over. So someone talked to her and I’m betting it was you.”
“You’re not mad?”
“That you looked out for me? No. I’m not.”
“Okay, then it was me.”
He chuckled, then kissed her. The second his mouth touched hers, he wanted to do more, but they were in his office in the middle of a workday.
He led her to the conference table and they sat down. He pulled the papers toward them.
“We talked about this before. You need to bill the cost of an item rather than the estimate. You have a clause to cover it in your contracts. Your clients know about it—you have a place for them to initial, saying they’ve read it.”
“I know,” she said with a sigh. “It’s just I start to feel bad when everything is going over the estimate. Sometimes it’s because of changes, but sometimes it’s not.”
He showed her the spreadsheet. “Here’s the total on the estimates for our weekend. Here’s the hours you billed.”
She pointed to that last number. “Then why don’t I have that in my checking account?”
“Because here’s what you actually paid for the items. By only billing Score the estimated amount rather than the actual invoice, you lost forty percent of your billable hours. Multiply that by every job you take and you’re not working for minimum wage.”
Dellina pulled the spreadsheet closer. “This makes it really clear. I can’t keep losing money this way. Why couldn’t I figure this out on my own?”
“You’re a one-person business. You don’t have time to be a financial genius.”
She glanced at him, her mouth curving up at the corners. “Like you?”
“Exactly.”
She gathered the papers and stood up. “I’m going to rebill you.”
“Good. And in the future?”
“I’ll bill the actual amount, not the estimate. I’ll feel guilty, but I’ll do it.”
“That’s my girl.” He rose.
She put the papers into her tote, then kissed him. “Thanks, Sam. This has been really helpful. You’re good at this and you explain things clearly. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Wanting stirred. Not just for sex, but for her. “Can I see you tonight?”
The smile returned. This time it was filled with promise. “I’d like that a lot.”
* * *
AT ABOUT THREE, Jack strolled into Sam’s office. He sat in one of the chairs across from the desk and leaned back. He tossed a football into the air, then caught it.
“Good party,” Jack said.
“That’s the feedback we’re getting.”
“We should do it every year. Invite different clients, but keep the events the same.”
Sam glared at him. “No. That’s not happening. Do you know what that weekend cost? And the work involved. We’re not doing it again. Ever.”
One eyebrow rose. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
“It’s easy for you to say that. You didn’t do anything but show up.” Sam paused for breath, then studied his friend. “And you’re kidding.”
“Pretty much, but you put on a good show.”
Sam relaxed in his chair. “Okay, then. Glad to be the entertainment.”
Jack tossed the football again. When he caught it, he put it on the desk. “Dellina’s nice.”
An odd observation. “Okay. Sure. Why does that matter?”
“You’re seeing her.” Jack held up a hand. “Don’t deny it. If I can figure it out, it’s obvious to everyone.”
Sam did his best to avoid shifting in his seat. “We’re hanging out,” he said, not willing to admit much more.
It wasn’t that he wanted to keep things a secret from his friends. It was more that if he defined it, named it, then he would have to acknowledge that he liked her. And once he went down that road, it was only a matter of time until the next disaster.“Not every woman is your ex,” his friend reminded him.
“She doesn’t have to be. When I get involved, it ends badly. Every single time.”
“So you’re due for some good luck.” Jack’s mouth twisted. “Face it, Sam, you want to get married and have a family. You’re a traditional guy. You’re going to have to be willing to trust at some point.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then you’ll never end up where you want to be.”
Sam understood his friend was trying to help and a case could be made that Jack was onto something. In theory Sam could adopt a couple of kids on his own and truly avoid the whole man-woman thing. Only he didn’t want to. He wanted a partner, someone he could count on and be there for. He wanted to introduce the love of his life as the woman he’d married. Hell, he was open to a minivan.
“It’s not going to happen,” he said grimly. “If I get involved with Dellina, everything will change.”
“You’re already involved. You can pretend you’re not, but we can all see it. You know her. You like her. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Sam raised his eyebrows.
Jack sighed. “Yeah, don’t answer that.”
“You’re an odd one to be giving advice,” Sam pointed out. “It’s not like you’re swimming in commitment.”
Jack leaned back in the chair. “We’re all so screwed up. How did that happen?”
“Dumb luck?”
Jack smiled briefly. “Taryn figured it out. She found Angel. He’s a good guy.”
“Any regrets?” Sam asked. Because years ago, Taryn and Jack had gotten married. The circumstances hadn’t been ideal. She’d gotten pregnant and he’d insisted they fly to Las Vegas to make it all legal.
“About Taryn?” Jack asked. “No. I still have her around. We were never in love.” He hesitated for a second. “I wonder if I’m capable of loving anyone. Romantically, I mean. I never have. I don’t need to get married. I have Larissa.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Not that way, asshole. I mean Larissa takes care of me. She makes my life run smoothly. Anytime something messy and emotional comes up, I pass it on to her.”
Which all sounded great, but there was a flaw. “You do realize that one day she’s going to want more. What happens when she gets married and has a family of her own?”
Jack’s features tightened for a second, then he relaxed. “She’ll still work for me.”
“I don’t know. I think she’s the type who will want to stay home and look after the kids.”
“Well, hell.” Jack tensed. “No way. I’ll give her a raise. I’ll pay her so much, she won’t ever want to quit.”
“That’s one way to handle it,” Sam said, thinking the truth between Jack and Larissa was a whole lot more complicated. Not that either of them would admit it.
“When the time is right, you’ll figure it out,” Sam told him.
“Is that what you say to yourself?”
Sam shrugged. What was there to figure out? He knew exactly what had gone wrong in every one of his relationships. The same could be said for Jack and Kenny. Although Kenny’s circumstances were unique. And painful.
Jack stood and grabbed the football. “I don’t want you dying old and alone,” he said.
“Because young and alone is better?” Sam asked.
“You know what I mean.”
Sam grinned. “I’m better with money than you. When you lose it all, I’ll let you live above my garage. Then neither of us will be alone. How’s that?”
“I’d rather have a woman, if it’s all the same to you.”
“And if that doesn’t happen?” Sam asked.
“Then sure, I’ll move into the apartment above the garage. You going to get me one of those lifts to carry me up to the second floor?”
“Sure. With the biggest motor they make.”
“Because it’s all about speed.” Jack crossed to the door. “Think about Dellina. She seems like one of the good guys.”
Sam didn’t respond and, when his friend had left, he leaned back in his chair.
Jack was right—somehow he’d gotten involved with Dellina. One second they were working together, and the next, it was a whole lot more. But to risk anything else seemed impossible.
He understood that to get what he claimed he wanted he was going to have to take a leap of faith. To gamble on believing in someone. Otherwise, he was destined to always want and never have.
* * *
SAM HADN’T KNOWN what to expect for his first Finance for a Small Business lecture. In truth, he couldn’t figure out why he’d gotten roped into the series in the first place. Sure he’d helped Dellina, but that was different. He’d been able to figure out what was wrong immediately, but that was because they were working together. It wasn’t as if he had insight into every business in town. But he’d given his word, so he showed up on time, his presentation ready to go.
There were already several people waiting in the meeting room at city hall. He recognized Patience, the owner of Brew-haha, along with several other small-business owners. Three women, obviously related and one from each generation, sat near the front. Dellina had an appointment, but she’d promised to stop by before he was done with his talk.
Sam walked to the front of the room and clipped on the microphone. He looked out at the people watching him and felt unexpected nerves. He was used to speaking before large groups. He did it all the time. But those talks were about sports or having a winning attitude. He wasn’t used to lecturing on finance.
“Success in business can be measured in many ways,” he began. “Market share, customer loyalty, brand recognition. But at the end of the day, if you can’t pay your bills, none of that matters. I’m sure you’re all familiar with the failure rate of small businesses. After five years more than fifty percent of them have closed. So what makes the difference between the ones that succeed and the ones that don’t make it? How can you use what you already know to your advantage? How do you make sure you’re in that successful fifty percent?”
“You’re going to answer all those questions, aren’t you?” an older woman asked. “Because just asking them isn’t helpful.”
Sam glanced at her and recognized her as one of the old ladies who showed up regularly to watch the morning basketball games he played in. Eddie or Gladys, he thought, not able to tell them apart.
“I’ll do my best,” he told her. “One of the most important aspects of a small business is managing cash flow. You have to pay for inventory before your customers can buy it. You can do your best to get terms that minimize payments you have to make, but you’re going to have to pay for what you have in your store, which means you need to get your customers to pay you as quickly as possible.”
He clicked on the screen and pushed a button on his laptop. The first slide came up. Sam explained about inventory control and billing, in general terms. Dellina had told him to use her mishaps as an example. He had re-created invoices from fictitious companies, plugging in the numbers, but keeping her information private, and went over the difference between an estimate and what was actually billed. He’d worried about boring his audience, but they all scribbled frantically as he talked. When he was done, nearly every hand shot up as the participants began to ask questions.
When he’d finally answered them all, his audience began to get up and leave. He saw both Taryn and Dellina sitting in the back and started toward them. Patience stopped him in the aisle.