Free Home for Love by Ellen James

own accounting," she said. "With Paula's help, of course. She's very good with numbers."
    Steven rubbed his jaw. "What was your net profit last year?"
    "Well, um—" Kate shifted in her chair "—it wasn't bad."
    "You're not really sure, are you? You probably took a loss."
    "Not much of one," she said defensively. She was beginning to feel as though she were on the witness stand.
    "What kind of advertising campaign do you have?" he went on in that calm, relentless tone.
    "We're in the yellow pages," she said proudly. "Melrose Designs. You can look it up right now."
    "Do you know what deductions to make on your tax return? Do you depreciate your business equipment? Have you established a good, solid relationship with your banker? Good Lord, do you even
have
a banker?"
    Kate felt like a criminal under cross-examination. "I plead the Fifth," she muttered. Steven raised an eyebrow.
    "It's worse than I thought," he remarked. "You run your business like a one-woman demolition derby. For your own good I'm not going to give you any more money."
    Kate was not defeated. She stood up so that she could give Steven her most forceful glare. For added emphasis she leaned across his desk.
    "We're talking about your house, Steven. Your home! It could be a
real
home if you'd just let me do my job. The kind of place that has a stack of firewood by the hearth and wind chimes outside the window." Kate's cheeks were flushed, the blood pumping through her body. She forgot all the arguments she'd rehearsed in front of her mirror, and the words just tumbled out of her. She looked straight into Steven's eyes.
    "I know what you want deep down, Steven—a place to remind you of that drafty old house in Vermont where you grew up. But you want a place that's different, too, your own personal idea of what a home should be. The first time you saw the house on McClary Hill, you recognized what you'd been looking for. You didn't even know you'd been looking, but then you saw it, the home that
could
be. I see it, too. That's why you can't turn me down, Steven. It's your vision of the house I'm bringing to life!"
    She stopped, out of breath and rather alarmed by what she'd said. She hadn't realized any of this before today, but every instinct told her it was the truth: she and Steven shared the same dream of what a home should be. The dream bound them together with its power, perhaps irrevocably. Kate's arms were trembling as she pressed her hands against Steven's desk. He gazed at her seriously, all mockery gone.
    Neither one of them said anything for a long moment. Then Steven brought out a checkbook and started writing in it, his pen scratching over the paper. Kate straightened, drained by the encounter. Steven tore off the check and handed it to her.
    "Thank you," she said formally, depositing it in her briefcase.
    "None of this changes my mind, Kate. You've still gone too far with my house. Way too far. And you definitely need help managing your business."
    "I'm happy with things just the way they are," she declared.
    "A manager would help you channel your money and time. You'd be more productive."
    "I'm already productive. And right now I don't have to answer to anyone else. I'm going to keep it that way."
    "You're making a mistake."
    She ignored his warning, glancing around at his bare walls and ugly furniture. "You really should let me do something about your office."
    "I'll think about it," he said agreeably. "Maybe we should do the place in persimmon pink."
    She frowned at him. He looked far too attractive with his devilish grin.
    "Goodbye, Steven. Thank you. I mean—goodbye." She swept out of the room and past the disapproving gaze of Mrs. Adler. She didn't need anyone telling her how to manage her business. Everything was under control: the carpenters would get their money, Paula and Max would have a few weeks' salary, and Kate could pay her electric bill.
    Most important of all, she could continue furnishing Steven's house like a real home. Over