The Hamilton Heir. Valerie Hansen
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She swiveled her chair to face him, noticing that he was carrying his jacket and looked a lot less GQ than usual. “Excuse me?”
“Out there.” He nodded in the direction of the parking lot. “I was talking to my mother and I fumbled the phone. By the time I caught it, I’d run into another car.” He tossed a scrap of paper onto Dawn’s desk. “There’s the license number. It wasn’t much of a car to start with but it’s less of one now. See if you can find out who it belongs to and offer to fix it, will you?”
“Of course.” She picked up the paper. Her eyes widened. Her hand began to tremble. “How—how badly is the car damaged?”
“I don’t know.” He was pacing. “Those things always look worse than they really are. That particular car wasn’t in very good shape before I hit it. The owner will probably try to stick me with an exorbitant repair bill but it can’t be helped. The fault was all mine.”
“Oh, dear.” When she looked up at her boss she knew he had no idea whose car he was talking about. Unshed tears misted her vision. She needed that car. Desperately. Not only was it her sole means of transportation, others were depending on her, too.
Tim paused, approached the opposite side of her desk and leaned over it, frowning. “Are you all right?”
“No,” she said honestly, “I’m not.” Without explanation she grabbed her keys and headed for the door.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
Not taking into consideration that her boss might decide to trail after her, Dawn reached the elevator at a run and smacked the button for the ground floor with the heel of her hand. The heavy brass door was closing as Tim approached and she was too distracted to hold it for him.
She was nearly to the parking lot when her breathless boss finally caught up to her.
He reached for her arm. “Wait a second. What are you doing?”
She wrenched free. “Looking at my car.”
“Your car?” He had to hustle to keep up with her.
“Yes, my car.” Dawn’s mouth dropped open as she got her first look at the mangled vehicle. It was worse than she’d imagined. Not only was her grille smashed in, there was greenish fluid in a widening puddle beneath the front end. With a punctured radiator, that car wasn’t going anywhere. Not even in an emergency.
“You killed it!” Without taking time to censor her words she spun to confront Tim. “You killed my car!”
“Don’t get hysterical,” he said calmly. “I told you I’d fix it and I will. Just have it seen to and send me the bill.”
“It’s not that simple. You have other cars. I don’t. I need this one.”
“Okay, rent one somewhere. That’s no problem. I’ll pay for it, too.”
“Rent another car? I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You would have, once you settled down. You’re just upset right now.”
“You can say that again!”
“Look, I told you I was sorry and I meant it. Why don’t you call the garage that takes care of our delivery vans and have them tow it to their place for you? Even if they can’t fix it they’ll undoubtedly know someone who can.”
Though she was still trembling, Dawn had to admit he was making sense. “Okay. I’ll do it right away. Maybe it isn’t as bad as it looks.”
“That’s right. And even if it is, they can probably give you something you can drive till it’s fixed. If not, go ahead and rent yourself some nice wheels, like I said. On me.”
“Thanks.” She managed a wan smile. “I guess that will solve my problems.”
“Of course it will.” His jacket hung over his shoulder on his thumb. He swung it around and put it back on, straightening his tie. “Well, then, if you’re satisfied, I’ll be on my way.”
“How about your Beamer?” Dawn asked belatedly. “Was it badly damaged?”
Tim shook his head and glanced at the slot he’d pulled into after the accident. “Just a scratch and a little dent in the bumper. Nothing serious.” One corner of his mouth turned up in a cynical smile. “The only real casualty was your car.” His smile spread to include both sides. “Hey. While you’re at it, why don’t you have the whole thing repainted? Looks like it’s pretty rusty in places.”
Her left eyebrow arched as she shaded her eyes with one hand and stared up at him, her other hand fisted on her hip. “And charge it to you?”
“Well…sure. Why not? Have to keep the help happy, don’t I?”
Dawn immediately rued her rash suggestion. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I’m not about to quit over a little dented metal.”
Tim’s smile widened, his eyes twinkling in the bright autumn sun. Dawn didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile that broadly, especially not since his father’s illness. There was an appealing charm to his expression that gave her heart a little jolt.
You’re just overreacting because you’re pumped full of adrenaline, she told herself. And Mr. Hamilton is just being this friendly because he’s at fault. There’s nothing more to his smile than that, so simmer down, girl.
Dawn backed away, giving him plenty of extra room in which to return to his car. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go back up to the office and call the garage.”
Resuming his usual businesslike demeanor, Tim nodded and approached the Beamer. “Good,” he said over his shoulder. “And don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
Arms folded, she watched him back out and drive away. When you had as much money as Tim Hamilton and his family did, you could fix just about anything, couldn’t you? Anything temporal, that is.
Musing, she pressed her lips into a thin line and jiggled her key ring in one hand as she started for her office. Even the Hamilton wealth might not be enough to save Wallace’s life, though she hoped it would. Medical science could be wonderful but it sure was expensive. She was still helping her parents pay the enormous medical bills left after her brother’s motorcycle accident. Sadly, in Phillipe’s case, the treatment had not been enough to give him back the power to walk again. Some things couldn’t be bought, no matter how rich a person was.
Dawn sighed, deep in thought, entered the elevator and pushed the button for the third floor. If she hadn’t had her faith to sustain her she didn’t know how she’d have coped after her only sibling was so badly injured. The lives of everyone in her family had been changed that day. Putting her college education on hold and getting a job at Hamilton Media to help out with the enormous bills was the least she could do. She wasn’t sorry about that. The only thing that still bothered her was why her prayers for Phil’s total healing hadn’t been answered.
If she lived a hundred more years she knew she’d never understand that.
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