Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
I cut my eyes to her, then I take out my phone and shut it off. She does the same. She takes out her notebook, the same one I gave her that night in the crow’s nest when she took the job. She hands it to me and I scan her notes, flip a couple of pages.
“You think Ragucci was making mistakes?” I inquire.
“No. I think it’s something else,” she says carefully.
“Money’s going somewhere,” I supply. She nods.
“You looked at both sets of books.”
“Of course.”
“It’s nowhere?’
“Gone.”
“How much?” I glance at her notes again. “This?” I indicate a number, six figures, near the bottom of the page.
“At least.” Her face is grim.
“We’ll follow up on this and get to the bottom of it. Sal might be able to help you investigate.” He doesn’t seem as worried or angry as I thought he’d be.
“Have you talked to your brother by chance?”
“He texted me a short bit ago,” she says softly. “Said he’s proud of me and wants better for me than this. And he says you handed him his ass for being a jerk about the meatloaf. Thanks for that.”
“I just suggested he should stop being a shithead.”
She laughs. “It’s Rory, you know? At least he talked to me. I told him I like it here. I’ve started my prep course for the first test, did that weeks ago. He keeps offering me money to pay for all of it. I think he wants me out of here as fast as possible,” she says. It’s obvious this hurts her feelings.
“If you don’t like staying with him, I got a couple of buildings in the neighborhood with apartments.”
“I know you do,” she says wryly. “I looked over all your holdings. But I don’t want to move. Like he says, I’m not here for that long. I heard back from Benny yesterday, and he says rehab is going well. He gets tired easy but they say that’s normal. He gave me a couple tips on how to pick out specific techniques when I go over the financials. I didn’t bother him about this discrepancy, and I won’t unless you think I need to.”
“No, you’re right. Let’s give him time to get back on his feet. For the time being, just be proud of the fact you found something missing when my top accountant didn’t catch it last month. It’s not everybody can say they got one up on Benny Ragucci,” I say, trying to let her know I’m impressed with her.
“I’m gonna head home now. Besides you got plenty to do without me hanging around on my day off.”
“You’re always welcome there. Your fingerprint’s on the lock, Katie,” I say, stating the obvious. We haven’t spoken of our mutual attraction since that conversation and it’s for the best. We both decided to behave like adults and coworkers. Leave that nonsense in the past. I try to tell myself that’s my goal, to keep this all business.
We cross from the café to the Pearl, still talking. I insist on sending her home in one of my cars. We walk around the back. There’s a couple guys hanging around by the corner of the small private parking lot and it sets me on high alert. Nobody loiters around here. We’ve got cameras and security and the fact is you’d have to be a complete dumbass to do a deal on my property in this city. I tap my phone and tell the guy on the door that I want these people cleared off my block.
In seconds, two big guards exit the back door and head for the pair of men. Jeremiah, who’s worked security for me for years, tells them that they’re trespassing on private property and they should get lost. The taller of the two losers shouts back something profane. My security men head toward them, but they come closer instead of backing down. I hear Jeremiah’s stern and commanding tone as he tries to talk them down but the tall one’s getting irrational, wild. He’s on something that’s for damn sure and I don’t want him on my property or anywhere close to Katie.
“Come on,” I tell her. She’s standing by the car, hesitant.
“It’s not necessary,” she says, eyes on the disturbance unfolding a few yards away from us. “I can drive myself. Hey! What the fuck?”
I grab her in my arms and turn her so she’s against the car, shielded by my body as I hear the glass break. One of the loiterers has thrown a rock in our general direction and busted a car window. I glance back and see my men have the guys on the ground now.
There’s no threat. Some idiot got high, tried his luck dealing in the wrong place at the wrong time. I tell myself it’s over and we’re fine. But when I turn her around, I run my hands down her arms, over her back, as if I’m checking for broken bones or something. She seems shaken but okay. When she looks up at me, there’s a scratch on her forehead, a bright line of blood welling near the hairline.