***
The bell on the door jingled as Kristen ran into Matt’s office. He stepped away from his desk and she threw herself into his arms. He lifted her and spun her around before setting her down.
“Oh, Matt. So it is all over?”
“Yes, Donna has pretty conclusive evidence on Heather.”
“Thank God.” Kristen kissed him, and then stepped back, a more serious look on her face.
“Matt, I never suspected you. You know that, right?”
Matt nodded. “I know, Kris.”
Kristen smiled at him again. “I’m just so glad this is behind us.”
Matt shook his head. “I should be upset, but to tell you the truth, I feel just as relieved as you do. I am embarrassed that Heather was able to steal money right under my nose. I’m afraid I’m not much of a manager.”
“Donna told me this sort of thing happens all the time in small businesses.”
“She’s just being kind. I hope that we’ll be able to get at least some of the money back. I suppose we’ll have a lot of work figuring out exactly how much damage was done and hiring someone else to do the books.”
“I suppose so, but it will have to wait until after our honeymoon.” Kristen stepped up for another kiss.
The bell on the door rang again. The postman entered, dropping the mail in a tray on the corner of Matt’s desk. “Good afternoon, he said, nodding at the couple, apparently never noticing that they were locked in an embrace. Whistling tunelessly, he turned and left.
Kristen giggled.
Matt picked up the mail and flipped through. “Look, Kris, it’s from Professor Douglas. Remember, I told you about him. He was the advisor for my thesis.”
Matt reached for a bone-handled letter opener, slitting the envelope. As he read, his eyes widened. “Kristen, look at this. It’s incredible!”
Kristen accepted the letter and skimmed over it. Then she started over at the beginning, reading carefully. “Matt, do I understand this right? Someone left his pre-Columbian art collection to a foundation to set up a museum and they want you to be curator?
“Not just somebody - this is George Waterston. His collection is famous. I remember when he died last year everyone wondered where it would go.” Matt looked over the letter again. “He’s left a big chunk of money for acquisitions, too, and his vacation home in Sedona to use as the museum. This is going to be a great little museum, Kristen.”
“How did they choose you?’
“It looks like Professor Douglas is the head of the committee on the foundation. I can’t believe he thought of me.”
“Oh, Matt.” Once again, Kristen threw her arms around his neck and kissed him thoroughly. After a few minutes, they came up for air, laughing.
“So do you want to commute from Flagstaff, or should we get a place in Sedona?” Kristen asked. “I think it would be better to be in Sedona, especially in the winter. We can still come back for weekends if we want.”
A wrinkle appeared between Matt’s eyebrows. “Kristen, I can’t take this job.”
“What are you talking about? It is your dream job.”
“I’m flattered, of course, but I have a job. Blake put his trust in me, even after this mess I’ve allowed to happen. I can’t just dump him.”
“Matt, Blake won’t want you to give up your dream. He can find someone else to run the business.”
Matt shook his head. “Seriously, Kristen. I made a commitment, and I intend to keep it. Blake taught me that.”
“If you just talk with him…,” Kristen pleaded.
“I’m not going to talk with him about this, and neither are you. I’m serious about this, Kristen.” Matt touched Kristen’s chin, tipping her face so that she was forced to look directly into his eyes. “Promise me that you won’t mention this to Blake.”
“But Matt…”
“Promise me, Kristen.”
“All right. I promise.”
“Good. Now come here.” Matt put his arms around her and pulled her close.