“Don’t work too hard.” He said, wrapping his arms around her. “I was thinking maybe we could go to the Art Institute. I read about it on the plane. It’s supposed to be really great,” he added as he carried his suitcase into the bedroom.
Taren sighed. She loved Ken and found his nerdy side appealing, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t be mad at him for wanting to do something he found fun and exciting. No, her animosity was towards the one person who seemed to still be able to capture all of her attention, no matter how hard she fought it. Damn you, Gianna Revisi! she thought.
“Well?” Ken questioned, stepping back into the living room.
“Yes.” Taren smiled brightly. “I want to get this account off my mind. Give me a few minutes to get ready.” She kissed him and jogged into the bedroom.
Ken was taken aback when Taren returned to the living room. She was dressed casually in short, khaki shorts with a tight, light-yellow tank top and sandals. Her long, wavy curls had a natural windblown look as they fell over each breast. A pair of aviator sunglasses dangled from one hand.
“You can take the girl out of California, but you can’t take California out of the girl,” Ken said with a nerdy grin.
***
Taren and Ken spent three and a half hours walking around the museum, looking at photographs, sculptures, and paintings from various time periods and cultures. They’d even taken in an early dinner at one of the cafés before leaving. Taren realized she hadn’t thought about Gi or her company the entire time, but as soon as they arrived back at the apartment, the Italian femme fatale was on her mind once again. Gi had been her Achilles’ heel; the addiction she’d tried so hard to let go of, and the lover she thought she’d never be able to live without. It had taken her well over a year to get past her life with Gi and meeting Ken had been a godsend. He was the final piece of the delicate new life she’d built.
***
“I hate traveling for work,” Ken murmured, cuddling Taren close. They were laying in bed, watching reruns on the Discovery Channel.
Taren smiled and placed her hand on his face. “Traveling is part of the job. You knew that when you took the promotion.”
“I know, but it takes me away from you,” he added, kissing the top of her head, then her cheek, moving to initiate sex.
Taren’s mind was miles away from the bedroom. “I’m really tired,” she yawned truthfully. “But…” she trailed off, sliding her hand under the covers to give him a hand job.
Ken enjoyed the feeling of her warm hand wrapped around his manhood, but pushed her away. “It’s okay. We don’t have to if you’re tired. I’mjust happy to be home with you.”
Chapter 5
After spending four full days going through the R&R financials, Taren found something that didn’t quite add up. She hadn’t really been sure what she was looking for to begin with, except something to prove Gi was lying about giving up her criminal past. She nearly jumped up and down screaming with joy, until she realized what she’d found was a discrepancy for transactions that actually had nothing to do with the bar or the night club, meaning it was possibly something Gi knew nothing about. Damn it, she thought.
The last thing Taren had wanted to do was actually have to work with Gi regarding her account. She’d only decided to keep the account because the notion of proving Gi was lying to her would be worth it in the end and she’d be free once again from the connection that was pulling her back down memory road. Taren honestly didn’t believe that Gianna Revisi would give up being a criminal mastermind, especially after she’d made a life of it and chosen that life over her. She needed to prove to herself that Gi hadn’t changed at all.
Taren checked and double-checked the discrepancy before making the dreaded phone call. Gi was out of the office, but her assistant booked a meeting for that afternoon. She hung up the phone and stared at the backwards slanted, handwritten numbers Gi had scrawled on her business card. Her writing had gotten a little more legible over the last five years, but it was still distinctively Gi.
Taren added the number to the contacts on her cell phone, and then tucked the card into the top drawer of her desk. She brushed her wavy curls over her shoulder and pushed her chair back as she stood up. She had two hours to kill before the meeting that would end her work day, so she decided to go grab some lunch and hopefully keep her mind from rolling back to Gi.
***
“I’m glad you called,” Ken smiled, kissing Taren’s cheek. “It’s nice to meet for lunch.”
Taren nodded in agreement. She’d chosen to invite him to lunch with the hope that seeing him would clear her head, but it hadn’t worked. She kept thinking about her upcoming meeting.
“I may be a little late getting home. I have a meeting with my top client this afternoon.”
“No problem. I’m going to gym after work anyway.”
“I went this morning,” Taren replied. “I couldn’t believe how many people were there. I had to wait in line to get on the elliptical machine, so I wound up cycling instead.”
“That sucks,” Ken said as he handed the waiter his bankcard to pay the bill.
“If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll pick up takeout on my way home.”
“Sure.” He smiled, pushing his glasses up before finishing off the last sip of tea in his glass. “Can you sign that slip when it comes back? I need to go to the restroom.”
Taren nodded.
***
Rapture was open for regular business and had a few people sitting at the bars on both sides when Taren walked inside. She subconsciously ran her hand down the front of her black slacks, removing imaginary wrinkles. Then, she looked down, making sure the buttons of her light-blue, form-fitting blouse were fastened as she stepped up to the bar on the left. The blouse was new and the last thing she needed was to have the buttons over her breasts pop open in front of Gi. She saw herself in the mirror behind the array of liquor bottles, noticing the expanse of naked skin showing above her hidden cleavage. The space under her collarbones looked empty, like something was missing. She hadn’t worn a necklace in five years, but today a feeling of emptiness blossomed at the sight.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked with a smile.
Taren pushed her hair to her back, allowing it to fan over her left shoulder. She set her briefcase on the stool next to her and pushed her three-quarter sleeves up. “Ms. Revisi is expecting me,” she said.
He pointed to his left. “There’s a side door around the corner. You’ll find the elevator through there.”
***
With Gi, Taren had always told it like it was, no holds barred, but for some reason, she was nervous, standing in the elevator as it rose one floor to the R&R offices. She held her breath as the doors slid open.
Burgundy carpet covered the small room and a high-countered reception desk sat directly across from the elevator, with a few lobby-style chairs in front of it. The walls were solid black with modern décor along both sides. “R&R” was painted in large silver letters behind the reception desk.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.”
The young woman at the desk was on some kind of platform, as she was sitting and still able to see over the large counter.
“Taren Rauley with Nicholson and Brass Accounting,” Taren said. “I have an appointment with Ms. Revisi.”
“Ms. Revisi should return any minute. She asked that you wait in her office,” the receptionist said as she stepped down and walked around the counter.
Taren followed her down the only hallway to the door at the end. The young woman opened the door and flipped the light on. The room was large with the same dark red carpet and black walls as the rest of the building. A large metal desk with a glass top sat opposite the entrance with a large floor-to-ceiling, tinted window behind it.
A matching bookcase was along the left side wall, and a black leather couch was against the right wall under an array of black and white photos. Taren wal
ked in and took a seat on the couch. The chairs by the desk looked uncomfortable. She placed her briefcase next to her and removed the files.
Gi walked through the door a few minutes later, dressed in a black pantsuit with a black, button-down blouse. She looked slightly disheveled, hair sticking out in all directions, reminding Taren of the way she used to wear it.
“I knew you’d be back to see me.” Gi grinned. “Sorry I’m late. My schedule got a little distorted this afternoon,” she added, looking at the beautiful woman sitting on her couch.
“So did your clothing,” Taren huffed, mad that she’d been kept waiting while Gi had a tryst with God knows who.
Gi raised an eyebrow and looked down at herself. Then, she turned to one of the pieces of art on the wall, a collage of mirrors. She laughed at her reflection, and noted she was in serious need of a haircut.
“If you think I spent the last hour with a sexy woman wrapped around me, you’re sadly mistaken. I was at a meeting downtown and drove across the city with the top down. It’s a beautiful day,” Gi said, walking towards the couch.
“There’s no need to make excuses for me. I don’t care what or who you do,” Taren stated matter-of-factly. “I found something in your records that doesn’t add up and I need to confirm it with you.”
“What is it?” Gi asked, ignoring the jab as she sat down next to her with the briefcase between them. “Everything is legal and legitimate with this company, so whatever it is, it’s not supposed to be there.”
Taren ignored her and laid the bank statements out on the table, along with the ledger records. “You’ve been writing checks, according to the ledger, and they should be going into these accounts, but none of the money has been deposited.”
“What?” Gi grabbed the papers and began looking them over. “I’m not laundering money for the mob.”
“That’s not what this is. These checks are either being cashed or the money is being redistributed elsewhere within the company,” Taren added. “If it’s going back into the company, I need to know where so I can balance the ledger.”
“I have no idea.” Gi shrugged. “If someone’s stealing from me…” she trailed off.
“Did you personally sign these checks?”
“Sure. I sign checks all the time, but I don’t research every single check before signing it.” She smacked the table in disgust. “Damn it!” she snapped. “How far back does this go? How much is missing?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten very far,” Taren replied nervously. She knew what Gi was capable of when someone stole from her. One night when they’d calculated the earnings for one of the gambling parties, the numbers didn’t match. When Gi went to collect, the guy tried to say he had given her everything. When she found out he’d stolen two-thousand dollars from her, she broke his fingers. That was the only time Taren had seen Gi’s fierce, Italian side come out.
“I’ll figure out what’s going on. Can I keep these?” Gi asked, holding the ledger copies and bank statements.
“Yes.” Taren nodded. Either Gi was pissed that her neatly hidden illegal business had somehow popped up on the radar, or she truly had a thief in her company. Taren had known her so well and had been able to read each emotion as it crossed her face, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the truth, so she turned away from the blue eyes looking back at her. “Let me know if you figure it out so I can adjust the ledger for the quarter,” she muttered as she left.
As soon as Taren walked outside, she took a long, deep breath. Even after five long years, that woman’s eyes still bore her to the core. Seeing Gi again in the midst of her new life had cut her deep, spilling out the past that she’d tried desperately to let go of, and now, every time she saw her, it opened that wound all over again. Why the hell can’t I let her go? I walked away. I chose a new life! She sighed heavily as she walked towards her car.
Taren tossed her briefcase into the passenger seat and started the car. Backing out, she noticed the convertible Audi parked between two larger SUVs. The license plate read: GR219, which stood for Gi’s name and birthday. Taren shook her head and floored the gas pedal.
Chapter 6
Over the next week, Taren familiarized herself with the rest of her accounts, meeting or calling every one of them, even the mundane ones at the bottom of her list, to introduce herself. She pushed Gianna Revisi and R&R Enterprises to the back of her mind.
She thought she was free of the past that had been haunting her dreams, until the night she closed her eyes and opened them again on a sandy beach with the sun beating down overhead and crystal clear, turquoise water in front of her.
Taren watched Gi walk towards her, dripping wet from the warm Caribbean water. She was dressed in a black string bikini top that barely covered her small breasts and short, black board shorts. Her short hair was wet and sticking out in all directions. A tattoo in Italian script that read “Una vita bella è quella che è vissuta al Massimo; a beautiful life is one lived to the fullest,” covered her left ribcage. Another, “non fidarti di nessuno,” circled her left wrist like a bracelet: trust no one.
“Gi,” Taren squealed when the woman stopped next to where she was lying on a beach towel and shook her hair like a wet dog. “You’re getting me wet!”
“Isn’t that the point?” Gi wiggled her eyebrows. She lowered herself onto the towel next to Taren.
Taren climbed on top of her, straddling her hips as she brushed her long, wavy curls to the side and leaned down, kissing Gi hard. “I love you so damn much, Gianna,” she murmured.
“I love you too, tesoro. Happy anniversary,” Gi replied.
“This has been the best two years of my life.” Taren beamed, still straddling Gi. “I want to commemorate it. Let’s do something crazy.”
“I thought flying down to the Cayman Islands last minute was something crazy.”
“I’m serious,” Taren laughed. “I want to get a tattoo.”
“Since when?” Gi asked. Taren had always said Gi’s tattoo on her side was sexy, but only on her. She’d never mentioned wanting one herself.
“Since now.” Taren pulled the front of her bikini bottoms down an inch. “I want ‘tesoro’ tattooed right here,” she said, pointing to her left hipbone.
“Are you sure? It’ll be there forever.”
“Yes,” Taren replied, leaning down to kiss her again, this time rubbing herself back and forth over Gi’s crotch.
“We’re going to get kicked off this beach if you keep that up,” Gi murmured.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Taren grinned and bit her lower lip.
***
Taren opened her eyes and stared into the darkness, confused at her surroundings. Ken was snoring softly next to her. She threw the covers back, stood, and walked out of the bedroom. The microwave clock read 2:47 when she stepped into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of cold water. She took a long sip and placed the glass on the counter, then pulled the waistband of her panties down. The word “tesoro” was written in cursive inside her left hip. Taren ran her finger over the black curves and sighed before covering them back up. She reached for the water glass again, drinking the rest of it in one long sip.
As she made her way back to the bedroom, she thought about the first time Ken had seen her tattoo. She never thought anyone but Gi would ever see it, and in a way, it was something meant only for the two of them. When he asked about it, she lied and said she drank too much one night in college, woke up with it, and was thankful it wasn’t Tweety Bird.
***
The next morning, Ken was sitting at the dining table, eating a bagel and drinking coffee when Taren walked out of the bedroom looking tousled.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked.
“No.”
“Is it that bed? It’s a little harder than our old one.”
“No…I don’t know what it is,” she lied, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“Could be stress. You’
ve been working like a dog.”
“I’m just trying to get caught up. This firm puts their accountants under a lot of pressure with a hundred clients each. I need to get used to balancing my workload.”
“I’m sure you’re the best accountant there. Once you get a system going, they’ll all want to model their work ethic after you,” he said with a smile.
“Maybe.” She smiled softly at him.
***
Taren felt tired from lack of sleep and a long, boring day staring at a computer screen. She was about to call it quits and head to the gym when her desk phone rang. She looked at the clock, knowing she had to take the call.
“Taren Rauley,” she answered.
“You sound cheery,” the voice on the other end said.
“What do you want, Gi?” she sighed.
“Can you meet me this evening?”
“No.” Taren palmed her forehead. “What for?” she asked with a sigh.
“I think I know what’s going on with the missing money.”
“Great. Then you don’t need me.”
“I want to look at everything again. I’m sure Mr. Barbie can wait an hour for you to play house,” Gi said sarcastically.
“Funny,” Taren mumbled. “Are you in the office?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Taren said and hung up. She grabbed her briefcase and headed out the door.
***
Rapture was starting to pick up an early evening crowd when Taren arrived. She walked to the elevator and took it up to the main offices. When the door opened, the receptionist told her Gi was in her office, so Taren headed down the hallway. The clack-clack sound of her heels was silenced by the thick carpet. She was just about to Gi’s office door when an older man walked out, with two younger men behind him. They were all dressed to the nines in dark suits and Italian leather shoes. The older man had thinning, salt and pepper hair slicked back with gel. One of the men behind him looked like a younger version of himself and the other guy looked strikingly similar to Gi, but with brown eyes. Taren nodded politely as she passed them. The gentleman who looked like Gi gave her a long look and a sly grin. She ignored it and turned the door knob.
Rapture & Rogue Page 3