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  “But …” Rory drew out the word.

  Elliot watched them share a wordless exchange.

  “But nothing,” Beth said breezily. “Both Kelly and Elliot are

  professionals with drive and high standards. They’re going to be perfect for each other.”

  Rory raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips, then shrugged.

  Whatever she’d planned to say clearly wasn’t worth contradicting her fiancée, and since Rory wasn’t generally one to hold her tongue, Elliot figured it must not have been too important.

  “You ready to walk over?” Beth asked Elliot.

  “Sure,” she said, fast enough to hide the flutter of nervousness the question prompted. She didn’t get first-day jitters, at least not as far as anyone else knew.

  “All right.” Rory clapped a hand on her shoulders, automatically causing her to straighten them. “Good luck, champ.”

  She could’ve sworn there was an unspoken, “You’re going to need it,” in her eyes, but she replied with an easy, “You don’t need luck when you’ve got skills.”

  “In that case, enjoy your first step toward world domination.”

  “My first step ever was toward world domination.”

  Rory laughed outright, and Beth smiled despite her eye-roll.

  “All right, all right.” She took another healthy swig of her cappuccino, grimacing at the taste, or lack of taste, before swinging the door open wide. “Let’s do this.”

  A blast of frigid air hit her square in the face as soon as the words left her mouth, but she gritted her teeth against the cold. Some people found that sort of thing invigorating, she told herself as she choked back a string of profanity.

  Beth didn’t seem to feel the icicles stabbing her eyes as she walked through the door Elliot held open. Her smile never faltered. Nothing about Beth ever faltered. She was every bit as impressive as Rory, but without the need to make sure anyone else noticed. Honestly, between the two of them, Elliot could never really tell which one was stronger, or maybe they magnified each other’s strength. She supposed stranger things had happened. People were funny and emotions weird. She’d stopped trying to figure out how other people worked long ago. She could admire what Beth and Rory had, the same way she could admire a fine sports car without wanting to be a mechanic. They worked, and she had no desire to look under the hood to try to figure out why.

  “Kelly’s office is just in the opposite corner of the square.” Beth pointed one glove-covered hand directly across the unofficial center of Darlington.

  The town square looked like something off the front of a postcard or the opening of an old sepia-toned film. Neat sidewalks fronted tidy, brick and stucco two-story buildings. Faded awnings and empty flower boxes ringed the outer edge of the spot where two county roads converged and spun in a tight little circle of commerce, rather than the more common four-way stop. A circle inside the square, so geometric, so purposefully planned so long ago. This section of road was red brick, or at least it was red underneath the thin layer of dried salt left over from an early winter snowstorm. The middle of the circle, filled with dead grass and sparse, short trees, offered a meeting space for town cookouts and barbershop quartets during better, warmer, older days. But even now in the dead of winter, a small white gazebo stood, squat and a little too sharp-edged to be beautiful, but quaint enough to fit the center of the circle inside the square. To complete the picture of classic Midwestern Americana, a tattered, all-weather version of Old Glory snapped, high atop a tall metal flagpole.

  Elliot was never sure what the image of small-town American life was supposed to inspire in a radical urban queer. Should it tap into some deep longing, or stir a desire for a quieter American dream? Or was the order and solemn dignity, holding onto its heritage amid a world gone mad, meant to remind her she didn’t fit in here and might as well move along? Both possibilities seemed equally true at times, and yet on other days, both seemed laughable. She didn’t yet know what kind of day this would turn into, but somewhere in this visual display of domesticity was a tax firm where she did belong, at least for the next few months. She didn’t see any reason to waste time contemplating power, the past, or progress in the subzero wind chills when she could, quite literally, cut some corners in her path to get there.

  “Easy enough.” Elliot stepped off the sidewalk and into the old-fashioned brick street, holding up a hand as she went. A rusted old Chevy slowed to a stop, causing everyone behind it to hit their brakes.

  “Elliot!” Beth scolded. “What are you doing?”

  “Going to work,” she said matter-of-factly as she strode confidently across the street.

  “You’re holding up traffic.”

  “No, I’m walking. You’re holding up traffic.” Elliot glanced down at her feet as she stepped onto the crisp frozen grass of the town green space, then pointedly back at Beth, who tiptoed apologetically across the brick road.

  “Okay, okay, I see what you did there,” Beth admitted as she caught up. “But you can’t just step into oncoming traffic. This isn’t Chicago.”

  “Right, this isn’t Chicago, which is exactly why I can step into oncoming traffic, not that a few old men in pickups constitute ‘traffic,’ but they always stop.”

  “What if they don’t?”

  “Then I’ll deal with that when I have to. Right now, I have to get to work.” She bounded up the stairs across the picturesque white gazebo. “And this is the most direct route.”

  The little bell above the door at Rolen and Rolen rang as someone entered. “I’ll be right with you,” Kelly called as she pushed the copy button on her Xerox machine and took a hasty swig of tepid coffee.

  “It’s just me,” Beth said, poking her head around the wall dividing the public space of the office from the business side.

  Kelly smiled in spite of her exhaustion. Sometimes an unexpected visit from Beth tapped into a reserve of something she did a better job of guarding when adequately prepared for her presence.

  “Well, me and Elliot,” Beth added.

  Her frown was every bit as automatic and unguarded as the expression that had preceded it. “Right. The intern. That’s happening today.” The fact had escaped her mind, which was uncharacteristic, or rather more characteristic these days than ever before. She’d begun to forget appointments or lose track of time, which of course was why she needed an intern in the first place. No, not needed. She didn’t need help, but she might like to have an extra set of eyes, or maybe she might enjoy having someone to boss around. “Well, go ahead and bring the intern in.”

  “Elliot,” Beth whispered. “Her name is Elliot, not ‘The Intern.’ ”

  She rolled her eyes. “Elliot, right.” What a stupid name for a girl. Why couldn’t people just name their daughters something normal anymore? She grabbed the still-warm copies from the Xerox tray with one hand and her coffee with the other, taking another gulp before following Beth around the corner.

  She nearly froze at the sight of the woman in front of her. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. She hadn’t thought she’d given the idea of a college student any thought at all, but if she had pictured someone, it wouldn’t have been the imposing figure before her now. For some reason when she pictured college-age girls, they were all petite and peppy and blonde, not tall and androgynous with square jaws and incandescent green eyes.

  “Hello.” The young woman shook a tuft of auburn hair off her forehead. “I’m Elliot Garza.”

  Yes, Kelly thought, in spite of her annoyance moments before. Yes, you are absolutely an Elliot. She extended her hand. “Kelly Rolen.”

  “It’s a pleasure,” Elliot said.

  Pleasure? Something about the word sent a chill across her skin. She broke the contact between them before saying, “We’ll see.”

  Elliot arched an eyebrow, and one corner of Beth’s mouth quirked up as if amused.

  Kelly’s jaw tightened. She didn’t appreciate being caught off guard, and she didn’t appreciate that she�
��d let her surprise show even for one second. “I don’t suppose you have any experience, do you?” she asked brusquely, walking behind an old metal and faux-wood desk to put some space between them.

  “Actually, I do,” Elliot said coolly. “I worked for a payroll and accounting services company in Chicago two summers in a row, and last year I worked in the university audits department all year.”

  She frowned. That was more experience than she’d expected. “So, no experience in a CPA office then?”

  “No, but I’ve done taxes.” Elliot stood up a little straighter, too straight, really.

  Kelly glanced down to see she wore only flat-soled boots, and yet their eyes were level despite her own two-inch heels. “Well, I hope you’re a fast learner because tax season started on Monday, and we’re already behind.”

  “I’m fast at a lot of things.” Elliot jammed her hands into the pockets of her rich, dark coat. “Just tell me what you need.”

  Need.

  The word burned her up. She looked to Beth, filled with the sudden urge to tell her this wouldn’t work. It couldn’t work. She didn’t need help. She couldn’t need help. Not from this walking, talking, tall drink of self-assuredness.

  “I think you two are going to get along famously,” Beth cut in quickly, shooting her one of those smiles that so clearly said, “Be patient.”

  Kelly took a deep breath in through her nose and released it quickly through her mouth, before nodding. “If you say so, I won’t argue … yet.”

  “Then I’ll leave you both to it. Also, there will be some paperwork to fill out for the university, but since this came together at the last minute, I’m sure they’ll understand you both taking a few days to get your feet under you before we worry about formalities.”

  What a nice way of saying she didn’t have to sign anything until she knew for sure she wouldn’t kill the intern. Then Beth turned to Elliot, and laying a hand on her arm, gave it a little squeeze before saying, “You’re going to do great.”

  “Thanks, Beth,” Elliot said with such gentle sincerity that Kelly almost softened, though toward which of them she wasn’t sure. Suddenly everyone seemed so much more human, so much more vulnerable. Beth had a way of highlighting those qualities, for better or worse.

  But Beth was leaving. Kelly and Elliot both watched her go and waited for the door to shut completely before turning to size each other up again.

  Alone now, Elliot seemed every bit as imposing as she had at first glance, though upon closer inspection she wasn’t absurdly tall, maybe five-nine, but her long coat and square shoulders made her stature appear more impressive. Yeah, it had to be the coat.

  “So …” Elliot said, tugging on the fingers of her brown suede gloves. “Where do you want me to start?”

  Good question. One she didn’t have the answer to. She really hadn’t thought the whole intern concept through. She hadn’t had the time, energy, or inclination to wonder about what parts of her father’s business she felt comfortable handing over to a stranger. She should probably try to consider their situation as something other than an invasion of her personal space, but Elliot’s presence still qualified as an intrusion. She’d never handled other people in her space very well, even under the best of circumstances. And having to hand over part of her father’s workload to some student/employee hybrid did not qualify as the best of circumstances.

  “Do you think you could figure out how to run a copy machine scanner?” she asked before she realized how condescending the question sounded.

  “Yeah,” Elliot drew out the word. “I’ve run across them a time or two.”

  “Okay, well, I have a stack of documents, W-2s, 1099s, and receipts that people dropped off. I’ll need them all copied and both the originals and the copies put back in their files.”

  “Sure. Where do I start?”

  Kelly walked over to a large table holding several plastic crates filled with an assortment of manila folders and white envelopes representing the early bird crowd, the secretaries and farmers’ wives and people with so much time on their hands that they were able to turn in their taxes on February first. “You can start here by sorting the incoming information. Find the files for the client in the filing cabinet over there. Put the information they’ve dropped off in the file and organize the files in the crates in the order in which they were received. I’ll file them by last name after I review them.”

  “What would you like me to do when I finish sorting them?”

  “If you finish filing,” Kelly let the doubt drip from her voice, “you can start scanning the documents.”

  “Sounds easy enough.” Elliot shrugged off her coat to reveal a white dress shirt with black slacks and thin black suspenders. She looked like something off the cover of Vogue or some other trendy magazine Kelly had never read. The outfit was sleek, slimming, and entirely over the top for a tax prep intern in Darlington, Illinois. Though it did prove one thing: the coat wasn’t the only thing to blame for Elliot’s imposing stature.

  Kelly brought two fingers to each temple and massaged them gently to temper the stress pulsing there. She refused to look down at her own drab khakis and lavender blouse. What did it matter what either of them wore to work so long as they actually did their work?

  She watched Elliot only long enough to make sure she’d understood the directions, then grabbed a stack of folders on the way back to her office. She opened the first one without even looking at the name. Whoever it was needed their taxes done. They all needed their taxes done, and they would only grow more numerous and more needy for the next two and a half months.

  She poured over the 1099s and expense reports for a journeyman welder, steadfastly ignoring the sound of Elliot at the scanner until the phone rang. She snatched it up on the second ring. “Rolen and Rolen, how may I help you?”

  “Hello, may I speak to Kelly?”

  “This is she.”

  “Kelly, this is June down at the hospital.”

  Her chest tightened painfully, but she said nothing.

  “I’m calling to let you know your dad had a little seizure. He’s stable, but the doctor wants to try a new treatment, and since you’re his power of attorney, I need you to authorize use of a drug that’s still in the clinical trial stage.”

  “I’m sorry, a what?” Her voice sounded strangled to her own ears and Elliot must’ve heard it, too, because she slapped a button and the scanner came to a sudden halt. “He what?”

  “He had a seizure. It’s not uncommon in the aftermath of a stroke.” The woman on the phone continued. “He’s okay. He’s resting peacefully now, but we need your permission to—”

  “I can’t give my permission until I know more about the treatment. What are the side effects? What are the alternatives? Can I talk to his doctor?”

  “She’s with another patient right now, but I can ask her to call you back.”

  “No,” she snapped, grabbing her keys and her pocketbook out of the top drawer of her desk. “I’m on my way. Please tell the doctor I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She didn’t wait for a response before slamming the phone back onto the cradle and turning to Elliot. “I have to leave.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “That’s none of your business,” she snapped, the fear now too consuming for her to bother with politeness.

  “Uh … okay. Should I stay and finish this?”

  Kelly looked around quickly. There was sensitive information here, personal records, people’s social security numbers. Who the hell was Elliot Garza anyway? What did she really know about her? And yet, there she was copying all those files. If she wanted to commit identity theft, she’d have ample opportunity even with Kelly in the office.

  Shit.

  She didn’t have time for a moral quandary.

  “You know what, I don’t care. Stay, finish, do whatever, but lock the door if you leave.” She pushed quickly past Elliot and out the door into the frigid February wind. She could only deal with one
crisis at a time.

  What the hell was that?

  Elliot stared out the door Kelly had fled through. The cold shoulder she’d gotten while working was weird enough, but the sudden departure seemed especially extreme. Based on her behavior over the last forty minutes, she could’ve called her new boss a drama queen or scattered, but neither felt quite accurate, as she was also pretty fierce.

  The once- or twice-over Kelly had given her when they met made her feel like a military recruit doomed to never pass inspection. Those dark eyes had raked over her like she was a cross between an exotic animal and a sideshow attraction. She would’ve thought the woman had never see a lesbian before, but her relationship with Beth clearly went beyond a casual acquaintance, though even their connection seemed weird. Friendly but not easy, and yet, gentle. Kelly’s fuse seemed pretty short, but Beth could soothe even the most frazzled nerves.

  Elliot didn’t have that skill, and she’d never really cared. She didn’t want to appease anyone. She was glad people like Beth existed to comfort the afflicted, but she’d much rather afflict the comfortable. Not that Kelly seemed particularly comfortable. Her office was far from cushy.

  Elliot took the two steps needed to move from the copy machine back to the center of the front room. A row of worn chairs faced a picture window with a view of the Darlington town square in all its American glory. Not a bad view if that’s the sort of thing you liked, but she would’ve rather looked out on the Capitol Building or Lake Shore Drive. The rest of the decor was standard waiting room— a few magazines, a potted fern, a coffeemaker complete with mismatched mugs and powdered creamer. The back half of the space housed one impersonal desk stocked with staplers, hole punchers, and manila folders, but nothing to reveal anything about the personality of the person who worked there.

  There had to be more, both to the space and the woman who ran it.

  Her new friend, the scanner, was set near the entrance in a small hallway with a few internal doors on the way to a back door made of metal. That kind of door always led to alleys, in the city. She’d never thought of Darlington as having back alleys. Curiosity overtook her. She left her stack of papers to see what the seedy underside of Darlington looked like, but as she pushed the handle her phone rang, or more accurately, vibrated, sending a tingle through the smooth fabric of her pants.