Death, Taxes, and Peach Sangria (3 page)

The remaining abusive preparers on our list were both men in their early forties.
The first, Richard Wallace Beauregard III, operated an insurance, investment, and
tax business called Beauregard Financial Services. The other was a man named Jimmy
John McClure, who ran an outfit called Bulls-Eye Taxidermy and Tax Processing. Apparently
he processed both deer and tax returns.

“We’ll have them rounded up by the October fifteenth deadline,” I assured Lu.

“See to it,” she said. “I want those frauds taken down ASAP.” She pulled the meat
stick out of the shake and stuck it in her mouth, licking off the strawberry liquid.
Urk.
How she could find that combination appetizing was beyond me. But I supposed it was
a fairly balanced meal. Three of the four food groups were represented.

Eddie and I parted in the hall. He limped back to his office. Why any woman had penis
envy I’d never know. Guy nards were way too vulnerable.

I entered my office, pushed aside the files on the terrorist case, and set my lunch
bag on my desk. As I sat down in my rolling chair, I couldn’t help myself. I glanced
across the hall at my coworker, Senior Special Agent Nick Pratt, a bad-ass bad boy
if ever there was one. He was the kind of guy your mother warned you about, but also
the kind she’d happily hop into bed with if she were in your shoes. She wouldn’t regret
it, either. Mothers can be such hypocrites, can’t they?

Nick had dark hair, currently cut short. His eyes were the color of Jack Daniel’s
whiskey and caused the same slow burn in a woman’s gut, or perhaps an inch or two
lower. He leaned back in his chair, his brown cowboy boots propped on his desk, a
silver belt buckle in the shape of a coiled diamondback rattler gleaming from the
waist of his navy-blue Dockers. His strong hand worked his ever-present blue stress
ball.

Sitting next to Nick, wearing his standard khakis and blue button-down, was Josh,
another special agent, one whom I had mixed feelings about. Josh could be whiny, competitive,
and arrogant, but he’d saved my ass on a couple of cases when his superior high-tech
skills were needed. Gotta take the good with the bad, huh?

The two had been assigned to work together on the sweep. While Josh could put the
fear of God in a computer, with his short stature, cherubic blond curls, and baby-blue
eyes he failed to intimidate tax cheats. Nick, on the other hand, stood an easy six
feet, two inches, with the broad shoulders and
don’t-fuck-with-me
demeanor of a former high-school linebacker. He was clearly a force to be reckoned
with. With their complementary skills, Nick and Josh made a good team.

They stared at the screen of Josh’s laptop while Josh pecked at the keyboard and maneuvered
the mouse. Probably reviewing files downloaded from one of the preparers’ offices.

After scarfing down an egg roll and a paper container of Buddha’s delight, I cracked
open my fortune cookie, shoved the dry, sugary fragments in my mouth, and smoothed
out the white paper slip.

Live a life of wonder.

Hmm. Not bad advice, I supposed. Then again, whenever I’d wondered about something
I’d always sought an answer. I’d never been left to wonder long.

But there was something—or should I say
someone
—I found myself constantly wondering about these days. And that someone sat across
the hall wearing boots and a snake-shaped belt buckle.

Nick returned the sentiment, too. He’d let me know he was interested, that he’d like
to see if the two of us might make a good couple, that all I had to do was
just say the word.
After much debate, not only with myself but with two close friends as well, I decided
not to risk my relationship with my boyfriend, Brett, by pursuing things with Nick.
Brett was a great guy and things between us were going well. Taking a chance with
Nick had seemed like too big a gamble.

Unfortunately, while my mind had made that logical decision, my heart still couldn’t
be convinced to let Nick go. Certain other parts of me refused to give up on him,
too.

Nick pulled his legs off his desk and leaned in to look more closely at the computer
screen. “I don’t know,” he said to Josh. “You think that’ll get a woman’s attention?”

He had a woman’s attention right now.

Mine.

Nick looked up from across the hall, caught me watching him—
damn!
—and waved me over. “Come here, Tara. We need a female perspective.”

Men asking a woman’s opinion? That was a rare thing indeed. “Okay,” I said as I stood.
“But if you don’t like my opinion just remember you asked for it.” I made my way to
Nick’s office and stepped behind them, turning my attention to the computer screen.

The two were logged on to the Internet. They’d pulled up a Web site for Big D Dating
Service, a business that, according to the information in the sidebar, was dedicated
to helping residents of the Dallas area find true love, or at least a reasonably acceptable
substitute.

“What are y’all doing on this site?” I asked.

“Trying to get Josh laid.” Nick clapped a hand on Josh’s shoulder. “We’ll make a man
of him yet.”

When Nick, Josh, and I had recently worked a case together, Josh had downed a few
too many drinks at a strip club while spying on a target. When he’d returned to the
car afterward, he’d metaphorically spilled his guts, revealing to me and Nick that
he was a virgin. He’d then spilled his guts literally, filling the parking lot with
ninety-proof puke.

Oh, such sweet memories.

Though I didn’t find Josh attractive in the least, there’s someone for everyone, right?
Dallas was a heavily populated city. Lots of fish in the sea. Surely Josh could catch
one using the Net.

Josh pointed to a section of the screen in which he’d inputted a short bio. “How does
that sound?”

I read the entry.

I am a government technology specialist who enjoys video games, science-fiction novels,
and spy movies. I am seeking a woman who likes those things, too, and who will want
to spend time with me.

Josh looked up at me, a slight blush on his cheeks, a hopeful look in his baby blue
eyes. “What do you think? Would it make a girl want to date me?”

Honestly? The bio made him sound like a desperate geek. But I couldn’t very well say
that, could I? “Let’s tweak it just a little.”

I pulled over one of the wing chairs and took a seat, glancing at Josh. How could
I make the nerdy twerp sound interesting? I thought back to the marketing class I’d
taken in college. According to the professor, advertising was all about spin.

Time to turn Josh into a human dreidel.

I swiveled his laptop my way and, after a few minutes of typing, deleting, revising,
and retyping, came up with what I felt was a fairly good sales job.

Federal agent specializing in high-tech espionage seeks an adventurous woman who shares
an interest in traveling together to other worlds via video games, sci-fi books, and
spy movies.

“How’s that?” I asked, turning the computer so Josh and Nick could read the screen.

Nick nodded. “Better.”

Josh turned to Nick. “You should sign up, too. Maybe we could double-date.”

“No!” The word shot out of my mouth before I could stop it. The mere thought of Nick
dating someone else filled me with pure jealousy.

I felt sick. Terrified. Frantic.

Nick eyed me intently as I sputtered, trying to cover for myself.

I turned to Josh to avoid Nick’s gaze. “Um … I mean Nick doesn’t need to join a dating
service to meet someone. He could meet someone the traditional way. You know, at a
bar or something.”

Fat chance. We put in a lot of overtime and Nick had little free time to go searching
for his soul mate.

“I’m not into the bar scene,” Nick said. “Burned myself out on that years ago. Maybe
I should try this online thing. Seems to work for a lot of people.” He stared at me,
one brow raised, a challenge in his eyes. He was sending me a message loud and clear.
This is your last chance, Tara. Stop wondering what we might be like together and
find out for yourself.

My stomach felt hollow and queasy. But Nick’s implied ultimatum had me feeling angry,
too. Not that I had any right whatsoever to be angry, but that wasn’t going to stop
me.

Josh turned the computer toward himself again and began pecking at his keyboard, setting
up an account for Nick. “What kind of woman are you looking for?”

Nick looked up in thought. “Well, she needs to be reasonably pretty, of course.”

I rolled my eyes. “Wow. You’re deep.”

He ignored my jibe, looking directly at me again. “I want a woman with brains and
gumption. One who’s independent and speaks her mind. One who won’t get all girlie
and upset when I occasionally act like an asshole.”

Josh chuckled. “You just described Tara.”

Nick raised the second brow.
I mean it, Tara,
said the brow
. This is your last chance.

I stared back at him for a moment.

And in that instant I knew.

Nick is a chance I have to take.

I’d been miserable and heartbroken since that day, weeks ago, when I’d told Nick that
I’d chosen to stay with Brett. I had made the wrong choice. I should’ve taken the
gamble. I knew that now with absolute certainty.

But the thought of losing Brett made me feel sick, terrified, and frantic, too. He
was a great catch. Sweet, smart, and successful, too. He was not only an up-and-coming
landscape architect at the prestigious firm of Wakefield Designs, but he’d also recently
started a nursery business. I admired his work ethic, respected his entrepreneurial
spirit. We shared many common interests, like watching goofy British comedies on television
and sampling diverse ethnic cuisine at area restaurants.

But was Brett
The One
?

Early on, he’d seemed like a good candidate, more so than any other guy I’d ever dated.
But lately? I’d begun to have some doubts. Still, I wasn’t sure whether those doubts
were real or I was merely confused by my intense, almost desperate, attraction to
Nick.

A
life of wonder
sounded great, but not if I spent the rest of my life wondering whether I’d chosen
the right mate, whether I might have been happier with another man, whether the man
I was with might have been better suited for a different woman. A life of these wonders
would be no life at all. I wouldn’t be doing Brett any favors by living a lie, either.
He deserved a woman who would give herself to him wholeheartedly. Until I was convinced
Nick wasn’t the better choice for me, I’d never be able to give myself entirely to
Brett.

I’d spent weeks slogging through this emotional wet cement. Frankly, I’d grown damn
tired of it. Yep, it was high time to pull myself out of the muck and take action.

Before I took a chance with Nick, though, I had to give Brett a heads-up, talk things
through, come to some sort of agreement on the terms of our trial separation. It was
the right thing to do. Plus, I wanted to make damn sure the door was left open with
Brett in case things didn’t work out with Nick. But would Brett agree to take me back
if Nick and I proved to be a bad match? Maybe. Maybe not. Nobody liked to play second
fiddle or be the fallback.

Still, dating at this age wasn’t just fun and games anymore. People our age were looking
for lifelong mates, someone to settle down with. It was only smart to do everything
possible to make sure that choice was made wisely, right? I hoped Brett would understand.

I broke eye contact with Nick and glanced down at my lap, trying to corral my rampaging
thoughts. Brett was coming over for dinner tomorrow night. I’d talk to him then. It
wasn’t going to be easy. Brett was a nice guy and the thought of hurting him made
me feel horrible. But the thought of Nick slipping through my fingers, of never knowing
what might have been, made me feel even worse.

When I looked back, Nick had turned to Josh, apparently taking my averted eyes as
a sign that I’d passed on his final offer. “Sign me up.” He pulled out his credit
card and plunked it down on the desk in front of Josh.

Josh quickly input the information, then slid the card back to Nick.

“Let me write your bio, too,” I told Nick.

He shrugged. “What the hell. You made Josh sound like James Bond. Go ahead. Take a
stab at it.”

I pulled the computer toward me and stared at the screen. How could I sabotage Nick’s
chances of meeting an attractive woman without making it obvious? After some thought
and tinkering, I formulated a bio sure to turn women off.

Avid sports fan and fishing enthusiast seeks a woman who is attractive, self-reliant,
and tolerant.

Any woman with half a brain would read between the lines and form a vision of Nick
as a guy who’d neglect his girlfriend in favor of watching ESPN and spending weekends
on the lake with his fishing buddies and a case of beer. Not to mention that the term
“self-reliant” implied he’d be a poor provider who’d expect her to go Dutch on their
dates and “tolerant” equated with “I don’t want to listen to any bitching about my
bad habits.”

Nick and Josh read what I’d written. I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping they wouldn’t
catch on to my subterfuge.

“You think it says enough about me?” Nick asked.

“Less is more,” I said. “Women like a little mystery.”

Josh handed me his phone to snap photos of the two of them for their profiles. Getting
a decent photo of Josh took several attempts. In the first, his open-mouth smile made
him look like the Gerber Baby. He looked pouty in the second. The third would do.

I snapped several photos of Nick, trying to get his bad side. Unfortunately, Nick
didn’t seem to have a bad side. He looked manly and sexy and absolutely gorgeous in
each and every shot.
Damn him.