Rita blew out a breath and gave Tara an irritated look. “I don’t know what it is about you that does this to me.”
“What do you mean?”
Rita pushed to her feet. “I checked the labs, okay? Your sister had no alcohol in her system when she was admitted. And don’t say one more word about it.”
Faye hadn’t been drunk. Thank God. Tara’s heart lifted as she took the deepest breath she’d taken since she arrived. Her whole body felt lighter. She wanted to burst out laughing. She wanted to dance to MC Hammer.
“You have no idea what a relief that is.” She jumped up and kissed Rita right on the mouth. “Thank you, thank you, a million times, thank you.”
“Calm yourself down now.” But Rita was smiling. “They got chocolates on sale in the gift shop, you want to thank me better than a big wet kiss. No nuts, no caramels, no coconut.” With that, she was gone, leaving Tara smiling in gratitude, almost collapsing with relief.
The rumor was wrong. But what about her father? Fallon had hinted he’d been the one driving. He claimed he’d smelled alcohol. The only way to find out if her father had been drunk would be to get her mother to ask the hospital about it.
And what if he had been? That would be terrible, too. Judith would have Tara’s head for suggesting the possibility to her mother.
She looked back at her sister. “I never doubted you. Not really. I’m going to find out who’s lying about you and why. Don’t you worry.” She was more determined than ever. She couldn’t wait to tell Dylan. She started to call him, then realized she needed to hustle if she wanted her timing at Wharton to work. She needed to sit in on some of the meeting after she looked through Faye’s office.
Besides, she’d rather tell Dylan in person, see the expression on his face...see him again.
It was true, she thought with dismay. She couldn’t wait to see him again...maybe touch him...definitely smell him.
She glanced at Faye, who looked almost like herself with her hair done and makeup on. What would Faye tell her? For God’s sake, grow up.
The Faye in the Sunset Crater photo would say, Go with your heart.
And that, she knew, she didn’t dare do.
* * *
“I’M GOING TO TELL Victor we’ve authorized overtime to catch up on production,” Dylan told his father early Wednesday morning.
“We can’t afford that and you know it. You set the price too low as it is. Let ’em wait. God knows, we waited long enough for that contract.” His father braced his head in his hands, clearly exhausted. He hadn’t been sleeping. Dylan had gotten emails from him at two and three in the morning, always about a new idea to pursue. Since the funeral, his father had been more miserable than ever. He’d retreated more and more to the research lab, AWOL from his CEO duties.
Dylan had a sinking feeling he’d have to stay longer at Ryland than he’d intended to make sure his father was back on track again.
“We have to do what we can. Once we get the specs adjusted, we’ll catch up quickly. If we don’t meet our deadlines, Wharton can’t meet theirs and the dominos tumble.”
“Maybe you should have me speak at that damn meeting. You can be nice and accommodating and I’ll tell them exactly where they went wrong.”
“I’ll be fine, Dad.” No way would he let his father add fuel to the conflict after the exchange with Joseph at the funeral. Dylan hadn’t realized Joseph had questioned the Ryland contract. With the high fail rate their testers were reporting now, he was certain all the managers would be concerned.
The delay of the Wharton management meeting where he was to speak had given Victor more time to gather data from his shift managers for Dylan to share during his presentation.
“I say no on the overtime,” his father declared.
“I talked it over with Victor and we agree it’s the best solution. Once the Wharton batteries get out in quantity, we’ll make up for any money we lost.”
“Are you forgetting whose company this is?” his father demanded.
“You signed off on the bid. My job is to supervise the operation.”
His father grabbed his ring of keys from the desk and held them out. “Then you might as well hand these over to Joe Banes. Tell him to turn off the light once he’s cleaned us out.”