The bellman showed them to the suite, which consisted of two bedrooms with a sitting room between and a breakfast nook just inside a set of balcony doors.
Not wanting her to feel at all uncomfortable, he explained, “While this can be set up as a connected suite during the day so we have a place to work, at night you can completely lock off your side.”
He couldn’t quite read her expression as she said, “I’m sure there will be no need for that, but thanks for letting me know.”
“Why don’t you take that room?” Cal pointed to the larger one. “It has a soaking tub.”
“Are you sure you don’t want the Jacuzzi?” she asked, a blush suddenly staining her cheeks.
“I prefer a shower.”
Her rosy flush deepened. “But what about the tub on your jet? Don’t you ever use it?”
Lyssa was beautiful, smart, funny, and she could hold her own in a conversation. Not to mention that the incredible sounds of pleasure she had made while eating her steak and lobster should be deemed illegal.
But there were two massive strikes against dating Lyssa Spencer. First, she was the Mavericks’ younger sister, and his close friends and colleagues would kill him for even looking at her the wrong way, let alone touching or kissing her. And second, she was his employee.
“The tub was already there when I bought the plane,” he replied as he shoved all thoughts of Lyssa naked and glistening in the bathtub out of his head. “I didn’t feel like remodeling it.”
His cell phone rang, and seeing it was Gideon, he answered on speaker. “Hello, Gideon. Lyssa and I just arrived in London. We’ll be meeting with Dane Harrington tomorrow.”
“That’s great,” Gideon replied, but he didn’t sound at all pleased. Once he said, “We’ve got a problem with the IRS,” Cal understood why.
Stepping into the sitting room, Cal put his phone on the coffee table. He beckoned Lyssa to join him as he settled on the sofa. Whatever fatigue either of them had been feeling vanished at the anxiety in Gideon’s voice.
“What’s the problem?” Lyssa asked, looking seriously concerned, since the IRS was her purview.
“They’re denying us nonprofit status.” Gideon’s voice was a harsh rasp.
Lyssa blanched. Given that their donors counted on the charitable tax deduction, being denied nonprofit status would be disastrous from a fundraising perspective.
“Could you please text a photo of the IRS letter to me so I can see exactly what they’re objecting to?” Lyssa asked, keeping her voice calm despite her obvious anxiety. “Once I know what the issue is, I’ll get in touch with them immediately to work on reversing their decision.”
“I just sent it. I’d appreciate a call back as soon as you’ve interfaced with them.”
“Will do.” The smile in her voice died the moment the call ended.
The text had already pinged through to her phone, and Cal’s arm brushed hers as he leaned over to read the letter with her. It looked like nothing more than a bunch of slightly threatening legalese to Cal, but he wasn’t a tax specialist.
Then Lyssa pointed at one of the paragraphs toward the end of the letter. “They’re denying the foundation nonprofit status because they think it’s for the benefit of a private person. But that’s not what I put on the form.” She turned to look at him. “I can show it to you.”
She was so close Cal could see the flecks of gold in her pretty brown eyes, and for a moment, he forgot about anything other than how lovely she was.
Damn it, he thought when he caught himself, he needed to stop doing that!
Forcing himself to get back to business—and only business—he told her, “I don’t need you to show me anything. I trust that you filled out everything correctly.”
“I did,” she said. “Fortunately, I’ve got a contact at the IRS. Tasha’s brother, Drew, gave the name to me when I helped him set up his nonprofit after their dad disappeared.” Tasha was Daniel’s significant other, and all of them assumed they’d be getting engaged in the near future. “I’m sure if you speak with him and explain what looks to have happened, he’ll help sort things out for us.”
He could step in now, act the heavy with the IRS agent to demand he fix things pronto. But this was Lyssa’s show. “You should call. It’s your paperwork, and you’ve already established a rapport with him.”
When she smiled, he was surprised to see gratitude in her eyes. Still, she asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to do it? Your name will carry a lot more weight than mine.”
“I’m sure.” He’d witnessed just how persuasive she could be many times over the past six weeks. Plus, the guy was her contact, not his.
Miracle of miracles, when she dialed the man’s direct line, he answered. Cal walked to the large plate-glass window to look out at the view of Hyde Park, not wanting to hang over Lyssa’s shoulder.
“Hi, Roger, this is Lyssa Spencer with the Lean on Us Foundation.” Despite her concerns about the foundation, he could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Yes, it’s nice to speak with you again too. How is your daughter doing now that she’s started preschool?” After listening to his reply, she said, “Oh, that’s wonderful!” After a brief pause, she spoke again. “I’m enjoying San Francisco—thanks for asking. Although I’m reaching out today because we just got a letter denying us nonprofit status, which was a bit of a surprise. I know you’re extremely busy, but if you wouldn’t mind going through the paperwork with me so that we can iron this out, I’d really appreciate it.”
Cal listened as they went through the form and confirmed that everything looked fine, until she finally got to the part with the problem. “Yes, Roger. I believe that might be the error right there. Could it have been keyed into the system incorrectly?” When Roger obviously agreed that was what must have happened, she asked, “Do we need to resubmit? Or can this be fixed right away? We’re approaching donors, and we need to be able to confirm that any contributions will be charitable deductions.”
Cal turned away from the London view in time to see her grin as she gave him the thumbs-up. “Thanks so much, Roger. I’ll look for a revised letter. And if you wouldn’t mind sending that as soon as possible, it will keep my boss from breathing down my neck and making my life absolutely miserable.” She winked at Cal as Roger agreed on his end to help her any way he could. “Thank you, Roger. If I ever decide to quit this job, I’ll certainly think of you and the IRS as an alternative.”
“Yes!” Lyssa exclaimed after she’d hung up. Jumping off the couch, she bounded toward Cal, her right hand up for a high five. But when her foot caught on the rug, she stumbled into his arms instead.
Their impromptu hug lasted only a few seconds, yet it was far too long for his peace of mind. Silently swearing, he reminded himself yet again that he needed to stop thinking about how good she felt in his arms.
“I never thought I’d see the day when anyone could wrap an IRS agent around their little finger,” Cal noted. “Am I right in assuming that he offered you a job too?”
She was laughing as she stepped out of his arms, her color high. “He was a pussycat. And yes, he did invite me to come work at the IRS anytime.” She clapped her hands. “I’m so pleased we got it all worked out.”