22. The Boss of Me

They say everything looks better in the morning, but Hailey wasn't buying the platitude as she stared at her computer screen. She reread her resignation letter to Dan Williams for the fiftieth time, vacillating between hitting the send button and sleeping on her decision one more night. Every piece of herself she'd invested for the last five years would be lost with one stroke. Her generous salary that increased on the regular every year, her growing pension fund, the steady stream of savings feeding her nest egg. Her benefits. Her safe job.

"But it isn't safe!" she raged aloud.

How could she continue working in a culture that allowed someone like Cliff Meissner to rise through the ranks and victimize his subordinates? Hell, saying they allowed him to advance was far too passive a way to describe what the higher-ups actually did. They were complicit in his ascent. They aided, and they abetted. They cleared the path for him, handed him the keys to the kingdom, and praised him as he ran roughshod over whomever he pleased. If she stayed, she'd be giving them all a nod to continue.

Was any job worth forfeiting one's integrity?

Then came that other thought that had been circling her mind. If she quit before Cliff fired her, she could at least preserve some of what she'd built. But if he got there first, he would win.

She drew in a lungful of air and sent the email.

Doc Embry's clinic opened at eight, and Hailey was the first patient through the door. The receptionist didn't hide her surprise.

"Um, did you have an appointment for …" She peered over her counter, no doubt looking for Hailey's pet.

"It's Lauren, right?" Hailey greeted in her friendliest voice. "I didn't make an appointment, but I need to speak to the doctor about, ah, a problem my pet is having. Won't take but a minute."

Those big eyes the girl had given Charlie widened. "I'm not sure the doctor—"

"Hailey Bailey?" Neve stood in the hallway behind the reception area. "I thought I recognized my favorite dog rescuer's voice! What can we do for you? Don't tell me Lex Luthor has had a setback."

Hailey skirted around the counter. "No, he's great." I think, though I wouldn't know. Probably never will again either. "If I could have a moment of your time—in private."

Neve gestured toward the back. "Of course."

Fifteen minutes later, they sat in Neve's office while the vet explained what she was seeing on the X-ray. "No fractures or other injuries to the bones that I can see, but you might want to get an MRI so they can tell if you sustained any damage to the soft tissues. Unfortunately, the closest place for imaging is in Montrose."

After her years on the surfing circuit, the thought of soft tissue damage andbroken bones didn't rattle her. But hearing "Montrose" chilled her to the marrow. Even if she opted for an MRI, how much would it cost? Did she have health insurance anymore?

She made herself focus on the answer she'd needed from Neve's X-rays. Nothing was broken. "I'll keep that in mind. Where's the best place around here to buy a brace?"

"The Fall River General Store on Bowen Street."

"Where else?" Hailey forced a laugh.

Neve grinned. "They're like having our own mountain Walgreen's, except they carry waaay more souvenirs and T-shirts. Do you want me to write you a script for something to dull the pain?"

"No, thank you. You've done so much already. I'd like to pay you for—"

"Don't you dare." Neve put a warm hand on Hailey's good wrist. "Now go take care of that."

Tears threatened to spill again. People here were so kind, even to a stranger like her.

God, when had she turned into such a crybaby? She had always prided herself on toughing it out—her dad had practically beat it into her—but right now she was a blubbering bucket of emotions sloshing over their sides.

The general store didn't open for another twenty minutes, so she hauled that bucket over to Mountain Coffee and smiled when she found Amy behind the counter. The woman was like a ray of golden sunshine after a week of gray drizzle.

When Amy slid the cappuccino with the perfect frothy cap and a chocolate croissant in front of her, Hailey inhaled the grounding aromas and whispered to herself, "Everything will be all right."

Even if she wasn't confident that was possible, the words soothed—for the two seconds before Dixie barged through the door and pointed a long fingernail at her. "You! My man and I are out of jobs because of you, and one of the best bosses I've ever had is in a shit heap!"

Hailey stared at her, not sure what to do or say that would flip a bad situation into less of a bad situation. She had a plan, but she couldn't put it into action until she'd rebuilt her reserves of chutzpah … and gathered more ammo.

Turned out she didn't need to say anything because Amy ran to her side. Like Dixie, she parked her hands on her hips—a slighter version of the formidable woman. The scene would have been laughable if Hailey wasn't on the verge of dissolving into tears again.

"Before you go off, Dixie Dobbs, you need to hear what Hailey Bailey has to say."

Wait. Did Hailey have anything to say? No, not right now while the smell of the coffee and pastry had turned sour and made her want to puke, nor while her wrist throbbed, nor while her humiliation was at its peak and on display for all to see.

Dixie sat, ready for Hailey to explain herself. Of course she was. "Well?" The question was a demand.

Hailey pulled in a breath and blew it back out again. "I promise you, I had no idea," she began. Seemingly satisfied, Amy gave an approving head bob and marched back to her counter.

By some unforeseen miracle, Dixie sat and listened while Hailey recounted the same story she had told Amy the night before—the version that left out the assault in Cliff's car, though why she protected his reputation, she had little idea. No, she knew. She was protecting her reputation, hiding her embarrassment. Because somewhere along the way she'd bought into the notion that what he did might have been her fault.

Except it wasn't. She had never misled him, intentionally or otherwise. His ego had misled him. She had said no—multiple times! This wasn't her humiliation to own. It was all on him.

I am the boss of me. Nobody else. Not my father, not my sister, not my prick of a boss.

Former boss.

In that moment, she glimpsed the power she held, and heavy layers lifted from her shoulders. And she planned to wield that power to fire a salvo so fierce it opened a hole in Cliff Meissner's hull and caused enough damage to sink his battleship.

Hailey drew a slice of warmth from the fire she had kindled inside herself. "Actually, Dixie, there's more that I haven't shared yet." She proceeded to spill the rest of the story, along with every ugly little detail.

"You need to come with me," Dixie declared when Hailey had finished.

"Why? Where?"

"You need to tell His Nibs what you just told me."

Yesterday she'd debated about telling Noah, over and over, without coming to a decision. Did she have the fortitude right now to face those fiery green eyes?

Dixie left her no choice. The woman was a force of nature Hailey would never bet against.

Hailey dropped a few bills beside her barely nibbled croissant and her cappuccino, whose perfect foam crown had caved in … kind of like her wobbly spirits. Vaguely, she wondered how much longer she would be able to enjoy the simple luxury of overpriced coffee and pastries wrapped in a cozy bistro.

When they reached the Miners Tavern, she braced herself, anxious to get this next bit over with.

Dixie blazed a trail through the back door. "Boss! Someone here to see you."

"Yep," came a muffled reply.

"Really?" Hailey hissed beside her.

Dixie shrugged. "Well, if he knew it was you, he wouldn't come out."

"Oh gee, that's sooo reassuring. Time for me to leave."

Dixie grabbed her wrist, and Hailey cried out. The woman dropped her forearm as quickly as she'd picked it up, utterly stricken. "What? What did I do?"

"What's going on?" Noah's baritone had them both turning toward him.

A flustered Dixie executed a partial pirouette. "Look who's here, boss. It's Hailey Bailey."

His eyes darkened when they landed on Hailey, then immediately lightened with concern. "What happened to your lip?"

Hailey breathed through the pain. Better. It's an eight instead of a nine and a half. Without thinking, she touched the tender split that had scabbed over. "I, um, an accident."

His narrowed eyes told her he didn't buy it, but it didn't matter because his pissed-off-o-meter was clearly topping its gauge. "Well, I hope you're not here for a meal because as you can see from the notice in the window"—he twirled his hands in the air—"I'm closed for violations and can no longer serve food or drinks. I'd like to add that my reputation in this town, which has been stellar for decades, is now total crap. So thanks for that."

Hailey sighed. This was exactly what she was afraid she'd face, and fatigue settled heavy in her bones. She didn't have enough emotional fortitude in her well to fight back right now.

Dixie held up her hands in a placating plea. "Boss, you need to hear her out."

"No, I really don't." He pivoted to leave, but Chance bounded from the back and headed straight for Hailey.

"He shouldn't—" Hailey began but stopped herself. Shut it! You're not an inspector anymore. Besides, this restaurant isn't open for business, so why not let a dog romp around? He's the brightest spot in here right now.

Pressing her lips together, she leaned down to give him a neck ruffle with her good hand. "Look at you, handsome boy. You look like an entirely different animal."

Zeroing in on Chance, Noah snorted. "Traitor." He swung his dark gaze to Hailey. "Oh, and the naming contest is off too, so feel free to call him Chance in public."

"Boss, let her explain," Dixie pleaded. "She didn't have any options. In her sensible shoes—not those black pointy heels—you or I would have done the same thing she did."

"Never mind, Dixie. It doesn't matter anymore. Thanks for trying." Hailey gave Dixie a sad smile and Chance one last pat. "Be a good boy, okay?" Hailey lifted her eyes to Noah, and her words dried up.

He crossed his magnificent arms over his gorgeous chest. "Under the circumstances, I need to call off our date Friday night." If he fumed any more, steam would pour out of his ears.

Dixie's eyeballs bounced between the two of them. "Date? You two had a date? Why doesn't anyone ever tell me anything?"

Noah's eyes remained fixed on Hailey as he answered Dixie's question. "Because you tell everybody else."

Hailey returned Noah's stare with a few more degrees of intensity. He wasn't the only one who could be pissed off. Over the last twenty-four hours, her emotions had gone through a food processor and come out diced and minced; her faith in people was shredded and julienned. Her pissed-off-o-meter blew the top off the measuring stick.

"Thank God," she snarked. "You just saved me the trouble of canceling it myself. I wasn't sure how to politely say ‘I don't want to spend my Friday night with a jerk.'"

"She quit her job," Dixie threw in.

Noah blinked once, twice. A twister of emotions seemed to whirl behind his eyes in a fascinating kaleidoscope Hailey couldn't decipher, though there were lots of angry reds in there.

She pivoted to leave. Chance's whimper stretched her heartstrings to a breaking point. "Have a nice life," she shot over her shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Noah ground out.

Hailey whirled and jammed her good fist on her hip. "Tell you what? That I quit?"

"No, that you were a food inspector."

"When did I have the opportunity, Noah?"

"Gee, let me think. Maybe while we were curled up together in my truck for an entire night? Or the times I point-blank asked what you did for work? You lied, Inspector Bailey. Is that what I'm supposed to call you now?"

"I didn't lie. I just didn't elaborate because I was waiting for the right moment. And I'm not Inspector Bailey anymore. Weren't you listening?" Of course you weren't. You're a man.

"You lied by omission," he accused.

He was right, of course, but she forged ahead anyway. "Would you have done anything differently if you knew an inspection was coming your way?"

"Yes! I would have locked the doors and claimed an emergency so you inspectors couldn't come in here and go ballistic on my ass, looking to shut me down." Mirroring her stance with his hands on his hips, he peered at her.

You inspectors. Ouch. "I wouldn't say we go ballistic. But even if you'd shut the doors, the mice were still there and you weren't aware of the problem. You wouldn't have done anything about them because you didn't have a clue. So the inspection would have happened the next day or the next, with the same result."

"But you saw my kitchen up close on Saint Patrick's Day. It was in tip-top shape."

"And it was yesterday too, but I wasn't crawling around your pantry looking for dead rodents either," she snapped. "Besides, I couldn't say anything to my …" Boss? No. Superior? No, Cliff most definitely wasn't superior. "To my supervisor about the condition of your kitchen without admitting I had been in there. It's a bad look, don't you agree? Why do you think I couldn't accept any kind of payment from you? As a government employee, I'm not allowed. Wasn't allowed. Former government employee." Who would no longer draw a salary. God, what had she done? Blown her dream of a bookstore to smithereens, that's what.

Two pairs of expectant eyes rested on her, so she pulled herself back together. "All that aside, he wouldn't have listened to me anyway. He had a bee buzzing in his bonnet. I tried to slow him down, but it only seemed to add fuel to the fire, so I stopped pushing because I didn't want to make it worse."

"You knew this was going to happen when we were stuck on that pass, didn't you?" he spat. "And you volunteered to help me out that night so you could get a closer look and alert your idiot of a boss."

She flung out a hand. "No! I had no idea until right before we walked into your bar. This was something my idiot of a … He's not my boss, er, he wasn't my boss. I was his boss, and then he did an end around, and then we were equals, only he kept trying to be more equal, and they let him, and …" She trailed off, realizing how ridiculous her babble sounded, reinforced by the confusion playing in Noah's expression. She huffed out a breath. "I had no idea an inspection was coming until my idiot of a colleague decided to do this on his own." After he met with Bruno Keating. "It was all decided last minute, without my input. I had no way to see it coming."

"Why the hell would he do that?"

"I have no idea what motivates Cliff Meissner to do anything! No, that's not true. I do know, and I suspect other reasons, but I need to do a little digging before I can go there."

A storm brewed in his eyes. "You're being evasive again, which is something you don't pull off very well, but you do a lot of. Whatever the game was, you played along beautifully—at my expense."

He stomped off, Chance on his heels, and though a few walls separated his office from the dining room, the slam of his office door reverberated through the restaurant.

"Well, that went well," Hailey mumbled. Suddenly, she was overcome with the sensation she was as small and fragile as the china doll Dixie had compared her to. A tired sigh escaped her. "I appreciate you trying to mend fences, Dixie, but fences have two sides, and His Nibs isn't interested in doing any repairs to his side." Would His Nibs be consoling himself with Ursula? Germaine? Some other beauty with an exotic name?

Dixie's painted brows drew together in bewilderment.

Hailey flapped her good hand. "Never mind. My metaphor machine needs a tune-up. I better pack up and leave. I'm sure the owners of the Loose Moose would like their place back, not to mention the entire town will cheer when they see my taillights as I drive out of Fall River."

"You bite your tongue, or I swear I will yank it out of your head, little girl! Hoochie mamas don't feel sorry for themselves," Dixie admonished in a tone that held absolutely no bite.

Hailey fought a lip quirk. "Then what do they do?"

"They get up and do the hoochie-coochie, of course!"

Hailey's heart lifted, and so did her smile. "You're not mad at me?"

Dixie squeezed Hailey's lips together in a firm grasp, her long nails grazing Hailey's cheek. "Don't be so sure about that."

"Ow, ow!"

"You're hurting her!" Noah barked.

When had he reappeared? He was as sneaky as Dixie.

Dixie released Hailey and sent a death glare his way. "Why are you back?"

"Because I … forgot something." Head down, he shuffled to the bar, picked up a stack of towels, and disappeared again.

"Forgot something, my eye," Dixie harrumphed after him. She wagged her head toward Hailey. "He forgot to sneak another look at you, that's what he forgot."

The smile tugged at Hailey's sore mouth. Damn, that barkeep was cute. And while she wished Dixie was right, she couldn't get caught up in a pipe dream. She had a mission to accomplish. Noah might hate her, but she still had to make things right by him, and maybe, just maybe, she had a way to do that.

But first she needed to pull on her professional clothes and play inspector one last time—after troweling on a pound of concealer.