“On the Internet again?”

“Yes,” she said, and quashed a pang of guilt. “It’s all your fault, you know.” Grace had Paul and Kelly’s old computer, which Cliff had set up for her.

“You could always e-mail me,” she suggested.

Cliff groaned. “I’ve created a monster.” He sounded good-natured about it, though.

“Like I said, this monster is one of your own making.”

“Don’t remind me,” he muttered, chuckling. “Say, have you got plans for Thanksgiving?”

“Uh…” It was only a few weeks away, but she hadn’t given the holiday a thought. Last year she’d spent Thanksgiving with Maryellen and the two of them had been miserable. It had been her first without Dan. “Why do you ask?”

“I want you to join me.”

“But I thought you went to your daughter’s in Maryland for Thanksgiving.”

“I do,” he confirmed. “This year I want you with me.”

Grace couldn’t afford such a trip, but she hated admitting it. Since Dan’s disappearance, she’d had no money for luxuries or unnecessary expenditures. And because his death was a suicide, she hadn’t been able to collect any life insurance benefits.

It was as if Cliff had read her thoughts. “Before you object, I’m buying your ticket.”

“I can’t let you do that,” she protested.

“You can and you will,” he insisted sternly. “I’m serious, Grace. It’s time you met my daughter and she met you. Now, before you argue, I know you asked for a few months to deal with everything and I’ve given it to you, but I do want you to meet Lisa.”

“Oh, Cliff…”

“I have everything worked out, so don’t argue with me. You’ll sleep in the guest room and I’ll bunk down on the sleeper sofa in the family room. It’ll do you good to get away.”

Grace hadn’t been on a plane in years. There just weren’t the funds for vacations or traveling, even during the best of times. She’d last flown five years earlier to a library conference in San Antonio, Texas, and she’d loved every minute of her adventure.

“I’ll need to talk to the girls,” she murmured, wondering whether she should accept Cliff’s invitation or not.

“Do that and get back to me.”

“All right.” Still, she hesitated. “You’re sure about this, Cliff?”

“Very sure. You’re important to me.”

“You’re important to me, too,” she echoed. “I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience with me.”

“You will come and meet Lisa, won’t you?”

“I really would love to,” she said, not bothering to hide the excitement in her voice. Grace had never spent the holiday away from her daughters. Maryellen and Kelly routinely checked up on her, despite her constant reassurances, but after all these months of living by herself, Grace had grown accustomed to her own company. Maybe, if she took this trip, her daughters would finally stop worrying and begin to acknowledge her independence.

Her only other consideration was Cliff. She shouldn’t lead him on like this, but the trip sounded so good and she was so eager to get out of Cedar Cove for a few days. Of course, it meant she wouldn’t be able to talk to Will online, but he was bound to be busy with the holiday, too. Besides, didn’t absence make the heart grow fonder?

A cold chill went down Zach’s spine as he read Janice Lamond’s letter of resignation, which had been waiting on his desk when he arrived for work that morning. Hardly able to believe what he was reading, he went over the details a second time.

Janice was quitting. Feeling slightly sick, he sank into his high-back leather chair. So this was the appreciation he got for training her as his personal assistant. This was the thanks he got for being her mentor, for showing her the ropes and giving her advantage after advantage.

Janice had been invaluable to him in the early days of his separation from Rosie. She’d soothed his ego and offered him advice and encouragement.

Rosie had come up with this crazy idea that he was romantically involved with his assistant. That was utter nonsense, but there was no convincing her otherwise. For no better reason than her own jealousy, his ex-wife had insisted Zach fire the woman who’d become his right hand at the office. Zach had refused, as any reasonable man would. Rosie had flown into a temper, and shortly after that he’d moved out of the house.

In a telephone conversation a little while ago, Rosie had said she wished him and Janice well. He’d let the comment slide. If he hadn’t been able to convince Rosie of his innocence before the divorce, he didn’t think there was much chance now. So he’d kept silent.

Recently, though, Zach had seen his assistant with fresh eyes. He disapproved of the length of her skirts and had casually mentioned the way she dressed, as part of his latest employee review. He’d assumed she’d appreciate his continued support, as well as his advice. Perhaps he’d overstepped his bounds. He’d never mention something as personal as dress or makeup to any other employee, but he’d thought he could with Janice. They were friends, weren’t they? And she’d certainly been pretty free with her advice when it came to his situation.

At the time she’d listened quietly to his comments. He’d been pleased by her willingness to accept constructive criticism.

Now this.

He waited for his irritation to subside and then called her into his office. A moment later, she walked in, avoiding eye contact.

“I have your letter here,” he said, figuring she’d offer an explanation.

Janice refused to raise her eyes to his.

“I didn’t realize you were unhappy with your position,” he said, hoping to reason with her. In his opinion, it would be a mistake for her to quit at this point.

“I have been happy,” Janice admitted. She sounded a little embarrassed. “That is, until recently.”

“Is this your way of asking for a raise?” Zach asked. No need to beat around the bush. Considering the time and cost that went into training a new employee, it was far better to retain the current employee and pay higher wages. He was willing to offer her a raise if she agreed to reconsider her resignation, but he did want it understood that he disapproved of her methods.

“I’m not looking for a pay increase,” she said, and shook her head adamantly. “I already have another job.”

If Zach had been irritated earlier, he was downright angry now. “I see,” he said, working hard at concealing his reaction. Of all the ungrateful employees he’d hired over the years, this one took the prize. “In that case, I wish you continued success.”

“I thought it best that I leave the company,” Janice said, raising her head now to boldly meet his gaze.

The anger flashing in her eyes caught him completely by surprise. Why she had any reason to be upset was beyond him. Zach had seen to it that she’d been well compensated for her skills. She’d advanced quickly, with routine pay hikes. In fact, there’d been some dissension in the office when Janice was given a promotion over other employees who’d been with the firm longer.

“Best that you resign?” Zach repeated.

“Yes,” she said, tilting her chin in a gesture of defiance. “I found it highly unprofessional of you to suggest that my skirts are too short and that I wear too much makeup.”

Zach opened and closed his mouth.

“I apologize, Janice. I can see that my comments were…not well received. You’re right—they were probably out of line.”

“Frankly, I think you have a lot of nerve.” She paused. “I thought…I hoped you’d understand.”

Zach frowned. He didn’t know what on earth she was talking about.

“I hoped that you and I, the two of us,” she faltered, “might one day be more than just employee and employer. I thought we were friends, but I also wanted you to notice me—as a woman.” She gestured down at her skirt, her high-heeled shoes. “I can see that isn’t going to happen.”

So Rosie had been right all along; Janice had been on the make. How could he have been so stupid? The signs had been there from the beginning. He tightened his jaw. “That will be all. I’ll see that your final check is drawn up immediately.”

“You’re letting me go…now?”

“Two weeks’ paid leave should be adequate compensation,” he said stiffly.

Without another word, Janice turned and walked out of his office. Zach was so angry he was shaking by the time she was gone. He hadn’t fully recovered when his phone line buzzed.

“Yes,” he snapped.

“Line one,” Janice said. “It’s the high school.”

Zach pushed down the button and reached for the receiver. If the high school was calling, he could bet it wasn’t about contributing to the latest fund-raiser.

“This is Zachary Cox,” he said in his most professional voice.

“Mr. Cox, this is LeAnn Duncan from Cedar Cove High School verifying that Allison is home sick today.”

Zach stared up at the ceiling and held back a groan of frustration. “No, I dropped her off myself.” It hadn’t been an especially good morning. Allison had gotten up late and missed the bus and then she’d given him grief when he’d insisted on driving her to school on his way to the office.

It used to be that she sought out reasons for Zach to drop her off. They’d chat and he’d tease her about her outrageous music and she’d call him a geek. Her teasing didn’t offend him because those were good times with his daughter. Now he barely recognized the girl she’d become.

For the second time that morning, a sick feeling came over him. “I don’t know where she’d be,” he said before the school secretary could ask the next obvious question. But by heaven, he’d find her. And when he did, Zach would see to it that she never pulled this kind of stunt again.

“That’s your concern, Mr. Cox, not ours.”

He knew that, but he was already flustered by Janice’s resignation. Now his daughter had made it her personal mission to screw up the rest of his day.

“What are the consequences of her skipping classes?” he asked.

“Is this her first offense?” Mrs. Duncan asked. She paused and seemed to be scanning a chart or a computer screen. “Ah, I see here that it is. Has there been any upheaval in the family lately, Mr. Cox?”

“My wife and I were recently divorced.”

“That will do it. Well, I hope you can get the situation with Allison squared away.”

“Will she have any detentions?”

“Not for the first offense. She’ll need to attend Saturday school if it happens again.”

It wouldn’t; Zach would make sure of that.

“A third time means automatic suspension.”

“There won’t be a second or a third time,” Zach assured her.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cox.”

“So am I,” he muttered as he replaced the receiver. He didn’t remove his hand and automatically dialed South Ridge Elementary, where Rosie was currently teaching fifth grade. She’d just been hired onto the permanent staff, which was both a blessing and a curse. It meant longer hours and more preparation time. He knew from Eddie’s comments that Rosie was often exhausted at the end of the day.