"All right, one drink, Joel, and then I must be on my way. Do you understand?" She glanced at him with an
anxiety she hoped was concealed. Going home with Joel Cassidy was not the smartest move she could be making, and
Shelley was honest enough to admit it to herself.
"I understand." He flicked her a satisfied smile and then returned his attention to the road.
It wouldn't have mattered, Shelley realized, what answer she had given him. He had already made the decision to
take her home, and it wasn't likely she could have changed it But she could handle the situation, she told herself firmly.
She would have the drink and then insist he take her back to where she had left her car.
That decision made, it became much easier to relax in the white leather seat She had sent Joel Cassidy home on his
own last night, and she could deal with a repeat performance, if necessary, tonight. Was she overconfident? Shelley
didn't think so. She knew her own capabilities.
"What are you thinking about over there in the moonlight?" Joel asked softly.
"Capabilities."
"Your own or mine?" He chuckled.
"Mine."
"If you're worried about whether or not you can handle the accounting for my business—" he began firmly.
"I'm not"
He grinned knowingly. "You don't lack self-confidence, do you?"
She thought about that seriously for a moment "I know the extent of my skills, and I know in which direction I want
my career to go. The rest is just a lot of hard work, isn't it?"
"And a few lucky breaks," he agreed.
"Like having you walk into my office and toss your business into my lap," she admitted, smiling. "Or inheriting the
Ackerly account"
"Everyone gets a few lucky breaks. What counts is having the courage to use them."
"Are you speaking from experience?"
"Of course. Look how I'm taking advantage of the lucky break you gave me when you walked into my shop
yesterday. There I was, thinking how badly I needed a new accountant, and suddenly you appeared!"
"And the first thing I did was talk you out of the use of a hundred thousand dollars. Not everyone would see that as
a lucky break, Joel." But she was laughing silently in the shadows.
"Not everyone has the skill and experience to look beneath the surface of a situation. And besides, even lucky
breaks don't come free in this world." The tone of his voice suddenly changed, becoming more aloof. "What did you
think of the arcade tonight?"
Shelley lifted one shoulder vaguely. "It looked profitable, and it looked like the kids were having fun. I'll reserve
judgment on the issue of how much you're contributing toward American education."
"All the machines aren't in such innocuous surroundings, you realize," he went on deliberately. "A lot are in bars
and pool halls and bowling alleys."
"As your accountant, I won't have to visit every location, surely?" she murmured.
"No."
"What are you getting at, Joel?"
He was silent for a moment, and then he said quietly, "I make a lot of money, Shelley, but I don't belong to a country
club, and I'm not called on to put on a black tie for social charity functions, and I spend a lot of time in those bars, pool
halls and bowling alleys. I can offer you money but not a lot of social status."
She went very still. What was he trying to say? "But as your accountant, it's only your money I'm interested in, isn't
it?" she finally managed flippantly.
He laughed abruptly and murmured something she didn't quite catch.
"What was that?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.
"I said you were a hustler after my own heart."
"I thought you were learning when to keep your mouth shut!"
"It takes practice."
It was too late to insist he turn the car around and take her back to the office, Shelley told herself. She didn't want to
be too rude to a man she needed so much. Needed in a business sense, that was. And she had enjoyed herself this
evening.
When he eventually parked the white Maserati in the circular drive of a home surrounded by the natural
anxiety she hoped was concealed. Going home with Joel Cassidy was not the smartest move she could be making, and
Shelley was honest enough to admit it to herself.
"I understand." He flicked her a satisfied smile and then returned his attention to the road.
It wouldn't have mattered, Shelley realized, what answer she had given him. He had already made the decision to
take her home, and it wasn't likely she could have changed it But she could handle the situation, she told herself firmly.
She would have the drink and then insist he take her back to where she had left her car.
That decision made, it became much easier to relax in the white leather seat She had sent Joel Cassidy home on his
own last night, and she could deal with a repeat performance, if necessary, tonight. Was she overconfident? Shelley
didn't think so. She knew her own capabilities.
"What are you thinking about over there in the moonlight?" Joel asked softly.
"Capabilities."
"Your own or mine?" He chuckled.
"Mine."
"If you're worried about whether or not you can handle the accounting for my business—" he began firmly.
"I'm not"
He grinned knowingly. "You don't lack self-confidence, do you?"
She thought about that seriously for a moment "I know the extent of my skills, and I know in which direction I want
my career to go. The rest is just a lot of hard work, isn't it?"
"And a few lucky breaks," he agreed.
"Like having you walk into my office and toss your business into my lap," she admitted, smiling. "Or inheriting the
Ackerly account"
"Everyone gets a few lucky breaks. What counts is having the courage to use them."
"Are you speaking from experience?"
"Of course. Look how I'm taking advantage of the lucky break you gave me when you walked into my shop
yesterday. There I was, thinking how badly I needed a new accountant, and suddenly you appeared!"
"And the first thing I did was talk you out of the use of a hundred thousand dollars. Not everyone would see that as
a lucky break, Joel." But she was laughing silently in the shadows.
"Not everyone has the skill and experience to look beneath the surface of a situation. And besides, even lucky
breaks don't come free in this world." The tone of his voice suddenly changed, becoming more aloof. "What did you
think of the arcade tonight?"
Shelley lifted one shoulder vaguely. "It looked profitable, and it looked like the kids were having fun. I'll reserve
judgment on the issue of how much you're contributing toward American education."
"All the machines aren't in such innocuous surroundings, you realize," he went on deliberately. "A lot are in bars
and pool halls and bowling alleys."
"As your accountant, I won't have to visit every location, surely?" she murmured.
"No."
"What are you getting at, Joel?"
He was silent for a moment, and then he said quietly, "I make a lot of money, Shelley, but I don't belong to a country
club, and I'm not called on to put on a black tie for social charity functions, and I spend a lot of time in those bars, pool
halls and bowling alleys. I can offer you money but not a lot of social status."
She went very still. What was he trying to say? "But as your accountant, it's only your money I'm interested in, isn't
it?" she finally managed flippantly.
He laughed abruptly and murmured something she didn't quite catch.
"What was that?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.
"I said you were a hustler after my own heart."
"I thought you were learning when to keep your mouth shut!"
"It takes practice."
It was too late to insist he turn the car around and take her back to the office, Shelley told herself. She didn't want to
be too rude to a man she needed so much. Needed in a business sense, that was. And she had enjoyed herself this
evening.
When he eventually parked the white Maserati in the circular drive of a home surrounded by the natural
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