I scan both files while Jaxson watches. I finish and groan.
“What the fuck is this?”
“What does it look like?”
“What does it look like?”
“Did you not just read it?
“Yes, you just watched me read it.” Something is definitely lost in translation. Don’t you think? “I can read for Christ sakes. In several languages.” I add—just because I can and I’m mad.
“Okay let’s start over.” He says almost in a mocking tone—almost. “Tell me what the words say.” Okay that was full on mocking.
“The words say…” Yes, I’m mocking back. “That I’ve embezzled twenty–million dollars. Is this some kind of joke? Because I don’t think it’s funny.”
“No, I’m afraid not. It’s real.”
“It can’t be real.” I wave a file. “I didn’t do any of this.”
“Are any of those accounts yours?” He asks.
I pick up the second file and scan over it. “The NYC bank accounts and the Amex are mine but the balances have been altered. The other credit cards, loans, and Belize accounts—not mine.”
“I found the report very comprehensive and convincing.”
Well la-de-da! “Just because a report looks credible and thorough, doesn’t make it true. And the truth is, that I did not skim from thirty company accounts over the last nine months.” I snort. “Why the fuck would I? I don’t need the money.”
“You have twenty million dollars just lying around.”
“No, I don’t have twenty million lying around. What do you think I am, a meth dealer? “I didn’t do this.” I wave the files. I like waving files and I’m damn good at it. Don’t you think?
“
I don’t think you did.”
“Then why…wait a minute, the partners meetings, the camping in your office. I’m guessing the partners disagree and they’re considering filing charges.”
“Yes, they’re considering it.”
“You have no idea how insane this is. It’s shit-ass crazy.”
“I agree that it’s crazy. The question is what are we going to do about it?”
“The question is why I’m I not facing charges.”
He lifts a brow.
“You put up the money—didn’t you?”
“Yes, the partners don’t know that it came from me. I made it look like it came through your attorneys.”
“My attorneys? My fictional attorneys of Dewey-Cheatam-and Howe?”
“It was the only way. There is no way I’d let you be charged for embezzlement.”
“I appreciate all that you’ve done Jaxson but do you think adding more bad apples into the barrel of rotten apples is the way to go? I’ve been falsely accused of embezzlement, then you front money through my fictional attorneys. If anyone finds out it wouldn’t look good.”
“No one is going to find out, Lex. Ryan attorneys wanted to have you met at the airport. They had most of the partners believing that you wouldn’t return from France.”
“So your twenty million bought me some time?”
“For now.”
“So what’s the deal with Fred Flintstone?”
”Oh my God, you see it too. I’ve known Henry for years but every time I look at him I expect: Wilma, Barney and Betty to show up.”
“You forgot Pebbles and Bam-Bam.”
We laugh, even though the Pebble and Bam-Bam part isn’t that funny—now Dino and whatever that cat’s name is; the one that keeps on throwing Fred out the window of his stone–age house—now that’s funny. Or not.
Jaxson inclines his sex–on-fire body further back in his chair. I fucking love that song—‘Sex On Fire’—I’m singing it in my head. I’d sing it to you but I can’t sing for shit.
Then OMG, he runs his hands through his hair. Yes, I said hands—a two–hander comb through. Oh. Dear. Lord. Now he has that just–been–fucked hair. Can guys have it? Well, he does and it’s fine. I shift in my chair. Can a girl get a hard-on? I cross my legs, uncross them, cross them, uncross and finally cross them.
He smirks. Cheeky bastard!
Now, where were we before I got all hot and bothered, wet and…I clear my throat, because I can. “Henry—you were explaining?”
“Oh Yes, Fred—Henry. As I mentioned before, Ryan attorneys have advised the partners to turn you over to the DA. They’re out for blood Alexia.”
“Why? What did I ever do to them?”
“Personal agenda. With the exception of Henry, all of them have egos the size of a house—a big house. They thrive on attention and the media. One of them is vying for the DA’s job, and she sees you as a stepping–stone to further her goal.
I’ve been trying to convince the partners that it’s in their best interest to settle things privately. Private settlement: no scandal, damage control, more money in your pockets.”
“But not all of them agree?”
“No, the majority still wants to turn it over to the DA. He heaves a big sigh. “Alexia, as the CEO, I’m walking a fine line. I care about this company. Fuck I more than care, it’s been my whole fucking life for ten fucking years. I might have inherited my position but I’ve worked my ass off, first keeping it afloat, and then turning it into a Fortune Five hundred Company.
Ten years ago when I took over as CEO, I had two choices. One: I could dissolve a company that my grandfather started or two: I could take on partners. I chose to take on partners. I don’t regret my decision, but my plan all along was to buy back shares once things turned around. I’ve been able to buy back some, but the company is turning out hefty profits right now and no one wants to fucking sell.”
“Okay. I get it Ryan.” I’ve never heard him say fuck so many fucking times. Ever. It’s fucking weird.
“Sorry for the speech. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t have enough shares to override the partners. So if it comes down to a final vote…”
“I get that you have CEO responsibilities. You don’t have to worry Jax. I won’t be facing the charges.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“You were explaining about Fred.”
“Yes, Fred. A few months ago Henry had some kind of breakdown that led to a stroke. His wife, Malinda, asked me if I would keep this information private and keep him on the payroll until he retires in a few months. I agreed.”
“So none of the partners know about his condition?”
“No. I’m the only one outside of his family that knows. We’ve managed this because Henry worked mostly from his home before his stroke. Henry has a reputation as a hard ass. The partners thought that if you met with Henry and me, you just might confess and the whole thing could be settled.
“They really though that I’m that naive.”
“I don’t know. I think they thought you would be that scared.”
“So you called his wife, Malinda and…?”
“I told her about the embezzlement mess and she agreed to help.”
“So the partners think that…?”
“They think Mr. Flintstone is tearing you a new asshole.”
“I only need one asshole, so thanks.”
SO NOW WHAT?
“So, what’s next?” I ask.
“We need to figure out who set you up and why.”
“The report states that the whistle-blower is unknown. Do you have any clues as to whom it might be?”
“Not even one.” He shrugs.
“That really sucks, because that’s where I would have started.”
“So you think it was someone at Ryan?”
I almost roll my eyes. “Yes, definitely.” Why would you even think that it could be an outside job? Duh. I recline back further in my chair and rub my now aching temples. I’ve been sitting for hours and my ass is sleeping—I want to join it. I could use a nap. Hell, I need a vacation to get over my vacation—then a vacation to get over the post vacation.
“Okay, so we don’t know the messenger, but we can still narrow d
own the suspects. There are four departments that have access to those thirty accounts: accounting, risk management, legal, and tech support. And only a handful of people with the brains to pull it off.”
“You being one of them.” He smirks.
“Yes.” I roll my eyes. “Like you even have to ask?”
Jaxson gives me The Brow.
The Brow––is the lifting of the left brow while lowering the right, forcing the space in between to roll and pucker. I hate—The Fucking Brow.
I roll my eyes, again.
“What?” He asks.
“You were doing so well.”
“Well?”
“The Brow.” I retort and shake my head with disgust and disappointment.
He frowns and rubs over the fading pucker before he continues. “So, who at Ryan hates you?” he mocks.
“Very funny Jaxson. And FYI, not everyone at Ryan hates me.”
“I know. Pete told me about his near lynching.”
“My team’s the best, Jaxson. They’re confused and angry. It’s not every day you see your manager escorted away by security.”
“All a part of the show.”
“I get it.”
He exhales then grabs my water and takes a big swig. “I have a meeting with Dale tomorrow.” He huffs. “I’ll do my best to reassure him and your team that I’m doing everything I can to get you back to work.”
“Thank you, Jaxson.
He winks. Oh my hell that’s hot. “You’re welcome.”
NOT EVERYBODY HATES ME
“Okay, onto my enemies.” I rub my hands together as if I’m relishing they idea of having loads of enemies. “There’s Frank––he hates me and has access but he’s an idiot.”
“I agree, not Frank. I think Frankie has a crush on you but because you can’t stand him—he hates you.”
I roll my eyes. “That makes like zero sense. Moving on—there’s Rob and Steven in payroll; no access. Jim Sharp in tech support. He could have—no he’s too busy jacking off.”
Jaxson gives me the, what the look, I’m so grateful and relieved that he didn’t give me The Brow, I almost cry.
“Why are they your enemies?”
“Because they’re assholes who like to wave their dicks around. Literally.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t tell you everything.”
“You don’t tell me anything.”
I scowl. “Hey, I’m not going to come crying to you every time someone make a pass at me. If I did, there would be days that I would be in your office more than mine.”
He gifts me with The Brow.
And there goes all my gratefulness and relief. I look away—until it un–puckers.
“Can you think of anyone else?” he says with an edge of jealousy, I think.
Speaking of jealousy. “There are the members of the Chuck-n-Fuck club.”
“What? You know about them?”
“Oh…please.” I smirk. “I heard about the infamous club my first day at Ryan. Everyone was taking bets on how long it would take before I joined.”
“Well FYI, there hasn’t been a new member in almost two years.”
“You’re lucky that no club member has sued your fine ass.”
“Former club members.” He huffs.
“Sooo—sorry, former club members. Why did it take you so damn long to get it?”
“Get what?”
“The Golden Rule man. You don’t screw the crew, fuck the flock, and you never shag on the rug—where you walk.”
“Miss Golden Rule girl—FYI I never pursued any of them, not one. All of them came on to me; I just gave them what they wanted. Besides I had each of them sign a release.”
“Seriously? That’s not even legal. It doesn’t matter who the pursuer was. You’re the CEO.”
“Well, my attorney says it does matter and when they signed a release it became personal, non–work–related.”
“Well la–de–da. Your personal attorney is an idiot.”
He huffs. “Why the hell are we even talking about this? It’s in the past.”
“We’re talking about it because some of the members are my enemies—they fucking hate me.”
“Oh come on. Why would they hate you? Besides—long time ago, former club, and all that.”
I stare at him in absolute disbelief. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you really that naive? Ten or more years could pass and some of them would still hate me.” Hell, maybe even twenty years.
“Come on,” he mocks, “Name one.”
“One?” I huff. “I can name a dozen.” I count off on my fingers. “Ann, the main receptionist. She can’t look at me without giving me her fuck off look. Stacey Ames in payroll made a voodoo doll of my likeness about two years ago—she still sticks pins into it every day. Jamie Jones in HR claimed she was your fiancé and followed me home for weeks. She wouldn’t leave me alone so I asked Jules to storm into her office—claiming to be my jealous lover.”
“Jules played your lover?” He cringes.
Jules and Jaxson have issues. We’ll get into that some other time.
“The one and only. She was more than happy to play the part.”
“Of course she was.” He snorts.
“She marched into Jamie’s office with all guns firing. I missed most of the show but I did catch the part where she threatened to shove a ten–inch strap–on up her ass if she didn’t bug off.”
“So, is that why she resigned?”
“Maybe.” I grin. “Who’s to say?”
“You’re cheeky, you know that?”
“No, I’m a victim and a survivor of your mess.”
“Let’s see, there was Sandi in accounts payable or was it receivables? I think she worked for both departments. Anyway, she came to my office every day for a month crying and begging me to quit. She said you were the one––ruined her for all others. She though that if I quit, she could be your one. It was pathetic and sad.”
“Wait a minute, I don’t remember a Sandi.”
I frown. “That’s why it was so sad. On her last visit to my office, she told me that you two had bumped into each other in the hall. You smiled and flirted a little, but then you asked her if she was a new employee.”
She was devastated. I wanted to shake her and say—‘you stupid bitch. What did you expect?’”
“I’m a real prick.”
“Yes, Jaxson sometimes you are.” I sigh, then continue even thought my point has been made.
“Oh my God!” I exclaim and hit my head like the V–8 commercial. “The Crème–de–la–crème. Hanna Wilson. Do you remember her? Part time tech support: tall, red hair, always wears a sneer? She didn’t even try to hide her disdain for me—bitch likes to see me bleed. I had a few run–ins with her. The last one was in the elevator about six months ago. I’d run to work and had my head down catching my breath—she slipped in the elevator just before the doors closed—I looked up and Wham! The sneering bitch, clobbered me on the back of my head with her Jimmy Choo bag. I swear she stuffed the Choo with bricks—it friggin’ almost knocked me on my ass.”
I rub the back of my head in remembrance. “Two days later, I had Dale call her up to his office, claiming he was having problems with his desktop. While she was in his office I went to hers and exchanged her twelve- hundred-dollar Jimmy Choo with a counterfeit.” I chuckle.
“Then after work I gave her bag to Glenda, a homeless women who sells jewelry near my gym.”
He huffs. And I know––I just fucking know its coming. And there it is—The Brow. I.H.T.F.B!
“Eight stiches? That’s why you had eight stiches on the back of your head?”
“Yeah.”
“I asked you what happened and you told me you ran into something.”
“Well I did, a Choo.” I laugh.
He scowls. “Why are you laughing? It’s not funny. You should have told me this shit was going on.”
“Oh pooh you.
I handled them. Besides, most of your former F-n-C club members have quit or joined some other club. Hanna is the only one I would have considered a threat but she up and quit, just days after our last altercation.”
“Jules?” He asks.
“No, not this time. I think Dale and some of my other team members had something to do with it. But he refuses to divulge any details.
“None of it should have happened.”
“You’re right, it shouldn’t have happened but it did. And I have you to thank. I would get the occasional sneer or cattiness but the claws didn’t come out until the accidental e-mail.”
“You’re never going to forgive me for that, are you?” He takes a deep breath. “I swear it was sent out by mistake.” He crosses his heart—like that’s going to help. He’s as guilty as Mr. Simpson—glove or no glove.
I sit and study his eyes. Yeah, he’s still got those lying eyes. But do I need to harp on this any further? Hell yes! “Jaxson, really? I tell you we can’t continue our relationship. Then a couple of months later you find out that I’m dating Tim Howard in Legal. Then you compose a personal e-mail at work expressing in vivid salacious detail—what you did with me—still want to do—and what I can do for you. Then said e-mail gets sent out by accident.”
“I told you that I was just working out my feelings. It helped to type them out. It was intended for my eyes-only. Why would I intentionally send it out?”
“Really? I think it’s called marking your territory.”
“Why are we even talking about this? It’s water under the bridge.”
“I guess you’re right Ryan, because I no longer work for you.”
He gives me The Brow. Please God, no more, I can’t take it.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant there is nothing I can do about the e-mail.”
“Whatever.
CRUELL DEVILLE
“Let’s just move on,” I whine. “My ass and head hurt and I’m hungry,” I whine-pout and it sounds pathetic. What am I, like two? My stomach growl-gurgles—growgles.
Jaxson cocks his head. “I think I need to feed you before that happens again. I also think a change in venue is warranted.”
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