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I tilt the chair back, causing it to squeak. “I’m impressed the CEO caught on to the missing funds. Each one of the transactions was under a hundred bucks. The perp was smart to keep the withdrawals small. I bet the CEO will be glad to find out who was skimming from him.” The individual switched money from the overseas account to the general account and wrote checks for bogus expenditures to pad their personal pocketbook.
“Probably not. It was his accountant.” He wrinkles his nose. “Who just so happens to be his sister-in-law.”
“Eww, not good.” I wince. “I didn’t realize it was a family situation. I wonder what she needed the money for. Surely, she could have asked him for a salary increase. Or a loan.” My family isn’t talking to me right now, but they’d be there if I called and asked for help. That’s what family is for.
Jason stacks a pile of reports onto the edge of his desk. “Who knows. People do stupid things when they believe they won’t get caught.”
“Even though she was clever to keep the transactions small, she didn’t make any effort to cover her tracks, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for us to follow her movements. Do you think he’ll press charges or just try and recoup his losses?”
He shrugs. “Hard to say. It was under 10k altogether, and it is family.”
“Maybe she did it for a selfless reason. To pay for medical bills or something.”
After he leans back in his chair, he chuckles. “Always the optimist. She probably needed a new pair of shoes.” He shakes his head, snaps forward, and picks up an assortment of empty containers of junk food and soda bottles, tossing them into the trash.
I frown. I’m not as much of an optimist as everyone accuses me of being. That makes me sound like a goody-two-shoes. But is there something wrong with hoping for the best?
The magnetic ID swipe outside the door clicks. Once the door swings open, I stare at Cade. My mouth dries as his eyes sweep over the room and land on me before darting away again.
I groan. Dealing with an overbearing, know-it-all is the last thing I want to do on a Friday night. Or any other night.
Girl, keep telling yourself that.
Jason stands as his computer shuts down. “What can we do for you?”
Thank God Jason spoke first. Otherwise, we’d have been down here all night. The tension in the room ramps up with each passing second as both Cade and I avoid each other’s gaze.
“I needed to hand this off to Lola.” Cade waves a medium-sized folder.
I squint, trying to make out what the label says, but I can’t read it from this distance. What could he possibly have that’s for me?
“Cool, then I’m out of here.” Jason makes his way toward the door while tucking his cell phone into his jeans pocket. “I’ve got a hot date.”
I jerk my attention from the folder to Jason. He has a date–that’s depressing.
So much for him living in his mom’s basement, playing video games all weekend with his make-believe friends. I tilt my head. Not that Jason’s an unattractive man. His dark hair is disheveled from running his hands through it. That, combined with piercing blue eyes and a five o’clock shadow, I can see how he could turn heads. But damn it, now I’m the only pitiful one.
As the door snaps open, panic swells in my chest. Shit. I’m going to be alone with Cade. I glance at the spreadsheet. “What do I do with the paperwork?”
“Lock it in your file cabinet. We can finish the last few pages of the report Monday morning. Truman was calling our client this evening to give him a heads up on the findings.” Jason tips his head toward the two of us. “Have a great weekend.” He winks and grins in my direction. “I plan to.”
The second the door shuts, I stiffen. The tension is thick enough to cut with the proverbial knife. After a few moments of him wandering around the room, it becomes evident he doesn’t want to have this conversation any more than I do. Shit. Get this over with. “What’s in the folder?”
“I didn’t look.” He shrugs. “Truman handed it to me and said he couldn’t bring it to you because he was waiting on a call. He asked me to bring it down before I left.” He shoves the packet toward me.
When the tips of my fingers brush against him, a tingle starts at the contact point and shoots up my arm. My gaze jerks to his. Did he feel that? Lord, how could he miss it? It feels like electricity is rolling along my flesh, causing goosebumps to scatter in all directions.
My eyes narrow. His face is made of stone. Nothing. No movement. No breathing. Nothing. Of course, he feels nothing. I snatch my hand back. “Thanks.”
Everything snaps in my brain at once. Oh, my God, is this it? My fingers shake as I clutch the folder, and excitement zips through me. Please, let this be my opportunity to work in the field.
While I’ve enjoyed the computer work, the potential of doing something important, that truly makes a difference, is an adrenaline rush. When I told Truman of the numerous things I’ve overheard throughout the years, his interest was piqued. Who knew listening to tedious conversations could become a skill?
He shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “Look, before I go, I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. It was uncalled for. It’s none of my business how Truman designs his teams, and if he thinks you’ll be an asset, that’s his call. I’ve always trusted his judgment and see no reason to stop now. Despite outward appearances, I wasn’t raised to be a dick.”
I study him as he pleads his case. Interesting. His apology appears sincere. “I accept your apology.”
He sticks out his hand. “How about we agree to a new start?”
