To Find Her Place (Redemption's Light #2) - Susan Anne Mason Page 0,7

give away her unease. At all costs, she had to come across as cool and professional. Totally in control of all aspects of the agency, but, most importantly, in control of her emotions.

Mr. Wilder leaned a hip against the desk and crossed his arms, still managing to look elegant in his three-piece suit with not a wrinkle in sight. “I realize this is a less-than-desirable situation, but my time here will be much less stressful if we can establish some sort of understanding. After all, we’re both working toward the same ultimate goal—to improve the agency’s functionality so we can help the most children.”

The tension in her shoulders eased slightly. He was right. Every aspect of the Children’s Aid Society centered around the welfare of the children. “Do you really believe that, Mr. Wilder?” she asked coolly. “Or do you care only about the pluses and the minuses in the ledger book?”

A nerve jumped in his jaw. “I care a great deal about the children who come through these doors, but if we don’t address the agency’s financial problems and the office is forced to close, what will happen to the children then?”

Alarm ricocheted through her system. “Surely there’s no threat of the agency closing. The government wouldn’t allow it.”

“Then why did the board of management feel the urgent need to hire me?”

Jane bit her lip. This was the question that had plagued her since she first learned of Mr. Wilder’s impending arrival. “Mr. Fenmore said they were bringing in an objective third party to study the agency. I assumed this would mainly consist of a financial audit and recommendations for how to optimize our funding.”

Mr. Wilder gazed directly at her. “Believe me, Mrs. Linder, this is much more serious than a simple audit. But I’m confident that if we work together, we can find viable solutions to get this agency running in peak condition.” He pushed away from the desk and held out his hand. “Can I count on your cooperation?”

Jane hesitated for a fraction of a second. It would serve no purpose to be at odds with this man. If she worked closely with him, she’d be in a better position to figure out exactly what was going on here. And also to see just how serious he was about applying for the director’s job. She forced her lips into a smile and shook his hand. “As long as I can expect the same courtesy from you.”

He gave her an appraising look and nodded. “Fair enough, Mrs. Linder. Fair enough.”

3

After an hour at his desk in the windowless cubbyhole that now served as his office, Garrett rose and stretched. Time to see the rest of the building. He plucked his suit jacket off the back of his uncomfortable chair and put it on. First impressions in meeting the staff were of utmost importance. They needed to know that although he wasn’t officially in charge, he did hold a position of some authority.

He headed down the narrow hall toward Mrs. Linder’s office. Paying better attention this time, he noted the nameplate beside the door read, Robert Mills, Managing Director. So, this wasn’t Mrs. Linder’s actual office. Where did she normally sit? And what had her position been before she became acting directress?

He knocked on her door.

“Come in.”

She was on the telephone and gestured for him to sit down.

“I’m glad Miss Dupuis was able to help.” A pause. “That’s sweet of you to say, Olivia. I miss working with you too, but right now I’m too—” Mrs. Linder’s gaze swung to him. “In my new role, I’m afraid I have to leave the maternity homes to my caseworkers. But as soon as I have a day off, I’ll come for a visit and we can catch up. In the meantime, my staff are always happy to help.” Another pause. “You too, Olivia.” Mrs. Linder replaced the receiver and looked up with a smile. “That was one of the matrons from Bennington Place, a local maternity home we serve.”

He frowned. The conversation—or what he’d heard of it—sounded like two friends rather than a professional exchange. “Rather chummy with them, aren’t you?”

She bristled like an annoyed peahen. “When I was a caseworker, I visited the maternity home often. We developed a friendly working relationship. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I suppose, as long as you’re able to remain objective.”

Red patches bloomed in her cheeks, and she pressed her lips into a hard line. “Was there something you needed, Mr. Wilder?” she asked between