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those old high school buddies and friends of a friend who wanted
special treatment were going to have to get that through their thick heads.
    Maybe that old saying was true and you couldn’t go back. Icicle
Falls had been a great place to grow up. Church picnics, Boy Scout camping
trips, fishing the river with Gramps. But now Blake found himself thinking he
should have left small-town life in the idyllic past where it belonged. Taking
this position hadn’t been a step up. It had been a step into a big pile of
shit.
    He adjusted his shirt collar that had gone suddenly tight and
then went back to work on the loan application papers in front of him. But all
he could see was Samantha Sterling’s full lips frowning at him. What had he been
smoking when he decided to go into banking after he graduated from college?
Heck, he could have followed his folks when they moved to Seattle and helped his
dad run that Honda dealership. Or gone into computer sales and made a fortune.
Or become a construction worker. Truck driver. Prison warden.
    Right now he felt like a prison warden with everyone around him
planning to stick him with a shiv, and all because of one angry woman.
Correction, angry and unbalanced.
    Of course, he could see how his predecessor had gotten sucked
into making poor decisions. That long red hair, those big hazel eyes, that cute
little tush—Samantha Sterling was hotter than the Wenatchee Valley in August. So
were her sisters and her mother. He’d seen them around. They were a tag team of
damsels in distress. He could imagine Muriel flashing a bit of cleavage and
batting those thick-lashed eyes of hers at old Arnie and putting him in a trance
where he’d happily give her everything, including the keys to the vault.
Watching her and her daughter struggle so valiantly to keep the family business
going, watching those big eyes fill with tears—the poor slob hadn’t stood a
chance.
    But Blake was made of sterner stuff. Of course he’d do all he
could to support Samantha. He’d buy chocolates even though he was allergic to
chocolate. Gram had a birthday coming up soon and he’d get her the biggest box
of candy they had, and when his mother and sister were in town he’d send them to
the Sweet Dreams gift shop to go crazy with his debit card. He’d even be willing
to help Samantha brainstorm ways to raise funds—private investors or a loan from
some of her cronies at the Chamber of Commerce. He’d have told her all that if
she hadn’t had a meltdown and stomped off. But he couldn’t change bank policy
just for her. He’d already gone out on a limb by extending her loan to the end
of February.
    It’s not your business to fix other
people’s mistakes, he reminded himself. You
can’t save every failing business in the state. Still, it seemed a
shame to let this one die. He was well aware of the company’s history and it was
the stuff of movies. Except right now the Sterlings’ story wasn’t looking like
it was headed for a happy ending.
    He forced himself to focus on the papers in front of him. It
was impossible. All he could think about was what a villain he felt like. Sweet
Dreams was Samantha Sterling’s baby and she was trying desperately to save it.
If he had to lock the company’s doors and sell off its assets he’d be a
baby-stealer and everyone in town would hate him. Almost as much as he’d hate
himself.
    * * *
    Elena took one look at Samantha storming into the office
and muttered, “Mierda.”
    Samantha set the basket on Elena’s desk. “Take it home to your
family and enjoy.”
    Elena’s eyebrows drew together. “That is a lot of money
there.”
    “Consider it a bonus,” Samantha said. “God knows it’s probably
the last one I’ll be able to give you.”
    “You mustn’t talk like that,” Elena scolded. Sixteen years
older and forty pounds heavier than Samantha, she sometimes forgot she was an
employee and morphed into an office mother. “And why are you back