Adding Heat

by Cris Anson

  Con sipped absently at his coffee while he shuffled papers around, obviously searching for a particular list. When he added nothing further, she said, “Go on.”

  He took a deep breath. “Giselle, I’m not accusing anyone of anything. Maybe I should go back two more years before I say anything further.”

  “For God’s sake, Con, spit it out! I’m a business owner. If something’s not right with my business or my accounting procedures, or one of my employees made some serious mistakes, I need to know about it.”

  “Okay. The reason I pulled all these invoices out is because I couldn’t believe the data the new software generated for this account. So I verified every single invoice you paid, both the dollar amount and the volume. I couldn’t verify the design amounts, but I assume you keyed in those figures, right? Since only you did the designing?”

  She nodded again. She was starting to feel like a bobblehead doll.

  “If this new software is correct, and if my handwritten figures are correct, it looks like, since the beginning of 2009, you overpaid Skyway Gravel and Paving close to nineteen thousand dollars.”

  “What?” She jerked around, sloshing coffee onto her hand.

  Con stood and faced her. “Giselle, when I saw the results, I was at a loss to explain the discrepancy. I thought the software might have had a bug in it. But you said you changed suppliers a couple of years ago.”

  “Yes.” Giselle put a hand to her heart. She could almost anticipate what Con would say next.

  “Could it be that Larry knows something about it?”

  Giselle reached out for her chair and sank into it. “Is that the only discrepancy?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “So it’s probably not a software glitch?”

  “I doubt it.”

  She placed her elbows on her desk, lifted her palms and buried her face between them. Blew out a few deep breaths to keep from hyperventilating. Lifted her head to look directly into Con’s eyes.

  “Why don’t you get dressed? The guys will be checking in soon. We’ll ask Larry together.”

  Con came to kneel at her feet. “I’m so sorry, hon. I didn’t know it would take such a turn.”

  “No, it’s better that we know.”

  And maybe Larry’s out-of-the-blue declaration of love was deliberately designed to keep her from finding out.

  * * * * *

  Giselle was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. She couldn’t out-and-out accuse Larry of anything. Nineteen thousand dollars. If Con was right, her business was making a profit. But dear lord, Larry? Was he ripping her off? How? Why?

  Con came into the office and stood behind her as she sat, dumbstruck, staring at the bookkeeping columns he’d penciled in. Vaguely she recognized the smell of her shampoo on him. He leaned over to give her a quick hug, his cheek grazing hers. “Courage,” he said, and she realized he’d shaved as well. Even with all her angst, she found a small comfort at his thoughtfulness in offering the illusion that he’d arrived early this morning instead of yesterday evening.

  They spent a few moments strategizing then Con stepped back into the kitchen.

  As usual, Larry arrived first, and today, again, he arrived early. Apparently having seen Con’s truck, he stormed into the room. “Did that son of a bitch spend the night with you?”

  Thunder couldn’t have sounded louder than her heartbeat did at that moment. Giselle faced him, chin outthrust. “Yes.”

  Larry looked sucker-punched. Then he rallied. “Is that your way of answering my declaration of love, ’Zelle? I give you my heart on a platter and you put it through the meat grinder for hamburgers?”

  “I’m betting your earnest declaration was just a smokescreen,” Con said, coming to stand beside Giselle. “Tell us about Skyway Gravel and Paving.”

  She had to hand it to the older man. He didn’t blink an eye at the sudden change in subject, but went on the offensive. Taking a menacing step forward, he clenched his fists. “You bastard! I know all about guys like you, preying on older women who need a man.”

  Giselle bristled. “Larry, it’s not about Con and me. It’s not even about you and me. It’s about Stonehedge Landscaping and Skyway Gravel and Paving. How did they get to be one of our suppliers?”

  The foreman took a reluctant step back. “Why this sudden inquisition, ’Zelle? What kind of poison did this kid infect you with?”

  “It was the new software that detected the discrepancy, Larry,” she said softly. “There’s an unexplained difference of nearly nineteen thousand dollars between what I thought we ordered over the past two years and what Stonehedge Landscaping actually paid them.”

  Con reached down to a particular sheet containing columns of numbers. “After I saw the printouts, I dug into the files. I’m a forensic accountant, you know. Just like my dad was. You might remember Con Senior, the man who was raked over the coals in public but was vindicated in the courts? He taught me how to search for clues to embezzlement, to malfeasance. And I found a lot of clues right here in these filing cabinets.”

  He lifted his chin, straightened his spine, and seemed to Giselle to grow an inch taller. Taking a step toward Larry, whose shoulders slumped, Con asked, “Who besides you and Giselle approve invoices? Who besides you and Giselle can access the accounting software? Who besides you and Giselle signs checks?”

  “Larry doesn’t sign checks, Con. I’m the only signatory.”

  Ignoring her, still looking at Larry, he repeated, “Who besides you and Giselle signs checks?”

  “Giselle, I was only trying to help you.”

  “Help her?” Con interrupted. “Help her by embezzling nineteen thousand dollars? What do you think she was living on, air and mulch?”

  “Giselle, please, let me explain everything to you without this kid interrupting. Can we talk privately?”

  “Con is not a kid. He’s fully as adult as I am, and maybe more adult than you. He can stay right here and listen. He’s my accountant as of this moment, and he is being paid to advise and represent Stonehedge Landscapes. As soon as we get to the bottom of this, I’ll be informing my current accountant of her change in status. And for both her sake and yours, Larry, I hope you have nothing to do with how she worked on my accounts or calculated my taxes.”

  She rested her hip on the desk and sighed. “I guess my part-time administrative assistant is suspect now as well. She’s the one who reconciled all my monthly bank statements.”

  “I have a handwriting expert I can call on,” Con volunteered. “He can tell us whether your signature was forged on any checks, especially checks written to Skyway Gravel and Paving.”

  At that, Larry collapsed. “Giselle, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please forgive me. Skyway is my cousin’s company. He knew how much I love you, how it hurt me that you didn’t give me the time of day. It was always business, business, business with you. I thought that if you saw the business wasn’t doing well, I could suggest you take me in as a partner because I could offer you lots of cash to stay afloat. Then I could become your hero by negotiating better prices with Skyway and saving you all that money.”

  “Oh Larry.” Giselle swallowed hard. It took three tries to get enough saliva into her throat to be able to speak again. “Did—did you forge my signature?”

  He looked so abashed, so forlorn, that Giselle almost—almost—felt sorry for him. “A few times. Most of the invoices were legit. And no, your admin had nothing to do with it. I never knew her before you hired her. She’s clean.”

  Giselle closed her eyes. Even with Larry’s endorsement of the admin, she’d better go over the bank statements and scrutinize all the checks.

  Con pulled out his cell phone. “I think it’s time we get the authorities in here. Embezzlement is a crime punishable by hard time in prison.”

  “Con, no!”

  “Giselle, he’s a thief.”

  She stayed his action by putting her hand on his arm. “Con, wait. The guys are coming in
. Let me get them on their way quickly. I don’t want them—or anyone else—to know about this problem until we have a handle on it.” She looked into Con’s eyes. “Promise me.”

  “You know I’d do anything for you,” he said softly. “Even let slime slip through my fingers.”

  Fighting tears, she nodded once, decisively. “Fine. I’ll just give everyone their orders for the day and be back as soon as I can to resolve this.”

  Grabbing the day’s orders, she fled outside and tried to wipe her mind clean of anything but how to advise her crews.

  * * * * *

  “I do love her, you know.”

  Con snorted as he eyed the foreman. “You have one shitty way of showing it.”

  Larry seemed to shrink inside his leathery skin. “I was desperate. He’d been dead several years and she still didn’t get it. I’d do anything for her. I did do anything and everything she asked. I thought I was making progress with her when she kissed me back the other day.”

  Con stood up slowly from where he’d been casually resting a hip against Giselle’s desk. “You. Kissed. Giselle. Your boss.”

  “What of it? She enjoyed it, I know she did. Snugged up to me and put her arms around me. Should have done it a long time ago.” He closed his eyes, and Con was hard-pressed not to smack that blissful look right off his face with a fist.

  “Then you came along, you with your tight shorts and big smile and hoity-toity way of talking. You talked yourself right into her bed, didn’t you?” Larry snorted. “Didn’t take very long, did it? And you not much older than her sons. There’s a name for guys like you.”

  Con consciously waited a beat to get his fury under control. “There’s a name for guys like you, too, old man. It’s ‘felon’ and that’s what you are. Embezzlement and forgery are felonies. You could spend the rest of your life in prison. You’ll spend hard time behind bars if I have anything to say about it.”

  Larry’s eyes widened. “She wouldn’t press charges. I meant too much to her husband. I gave up my life for him, for them. For Giselle. She wouldn’t do that to me. You heard her. She refused to let you call the police.”

  “Maybe not today. Or even tomorrow. But you heard the lady. I’m her professional advisor and I’m totally inclined to throw the book at you. In fact,” he said nonchalantly, “I’ll have that handwriting expert in for a consultation just for insurance.”

  His hard stare lasered into the older man. “You might want to cover your ass and make restitution post-haste. It would go over well with any judge prior to your sentencing. Shall we say double the amount of the shortfall? You know, similar to the way the IRS assesses penalties?”

  Con had the satisfaction of seeing the older man blanch. He turned up the heat. “And I recommend that you tender your resignation immediately along with your keys. Of course, it doesn’t really matter. The boss will be calling in a locksmith as soon as you leave.”

  The foreman’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I can’t just leave her in the lurch like that. We’re in the middle of four jobs.”

  Con shrugged. “It won’t be the first time that someone left a job unfinished. As a business consultant, I see it all the time. She’ll manage. Giselle Sheridan is one savvy businesswoman. Savvy enough to see that you can’t possibly stay on as an employee.”

  Pulaski seemed to deflate in front of Con’s eyes. Well, it couldn’t be helped. Giselle had to be protected from predators, especially those masquerading as friends.

  “One of the euphemisms they use in the biz world to explain an employee’s departure is ‘Leaving to pursue other interests’. That’s a useful, all-purpose phrase you might want to consider. It doesn’t accuse, it doesn’t point fingers.”

  The door burst open and Giselle rushed in, her gaze bouncing between Con and the foreman as though searching for bruises or blood.

  “They’re all out on jobs,” she said breathlessly. “I didn’t say anything to them, only that I was handing out the job orders because Larry was working on stuff to discuss with me.”

  “We’re cool,” Con said. “I think Larry has something to say to you.”

  It seemed to take a long time for the man to find the nerve to look into Giselle’s eyes. When he did, he said, “I’m a fool, ’Zelle. I thought I could…”

  He choked up and Con was decent enough to say, “I need a cup of coffee” and walk into the kitchen. Although he’d be damned if he’d go out of their hearing, just in case the man got obstreperous.

  “I’m so sorry, Giselle.” Con heard through the doorway. “I just wanted you to think of me as more than a foreman. To get dependent on me. But obviously I did it the wrong way, the stupid way.”

  “I’m sorry, too, Larry.” Giselle’s soft voice held worlds of regret. “But obviously you can’t—”

  “I know. I-I— Damn, this is hard. I-I hereby resign from Stonehedge Landscapes. To pursue, uh, other interests.” Con heard keys jingle then Pulaski said, “Here. This is my office key. And the key to the garage.”

  There was a long pause. Con decided he’d better remind the man about offering restitution. When he walked back into the office, he saw Pulaski staring out the window and Giselle seated at her desk.

  “I’ll need your password,” she said in a subdued voice, her eyes on the computer screen.

  He gave it to her. Then Con cleared his throat and Pulaski spun around.

  “And, uh, ’Zelle, I’ll get you back every penny, don’t you worry. And, uh, I’ll even pay a penalty. You just name it and I’ll give it to you.”

  Con watched as Giselle fought to control the emotions swarming across her face. “I accept your resignation. And in recognition of your loyal service to Felix, I’ll give you thirty days to repay Stonehedge Landscapes. Nineteen thousand plus interest plus penalty, let’s say an even twenty-five thousand. In exchange for not pressing charges.” She looked up at him then. “Can you do that?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed several times. “Yeah. Yes. I can. I will. Thank you, ’Zelle. I’m sorry. I’m sorrier than I can say.”

  She sighed. “So am I, Larry. So am I.”

  * * * * *

  “Oh Con, it hurts.”

  “I know, baby. It’s a huge change in your life. Come here. You need a hug.”

  More eager to accept his consoling arms than she should be, Giselle snuggled against him in the quiet of the kitchen. “I never knew.”

  For a moment she reveled in being coddled, protected. Loved. Then she pushed away from him. “I have lots of work to do before the crews come home.”

  “I’ll stay if you want me to. I’ll also go if you feel you need some alone time. But know this, Giselle, you’re going to be going through all the stages of grief again. The anger, the disbelief. Because you’re losing another big part of your life.”

  “I— Why don’t you go. I think better when I’m alone, and I’ll need to make a list of what needs to be done.” She gave him a watery smile. “Maybe you can call me late this afternoon and see how I’m holding up.”

  He gathered her in his arms again. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll come by around six, when the crews are closing up shop for the day, and I’ll bring dinner. Would you like Chinese? Pizza? Deli?”

  “No. I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat much. Just—just call me around dusk. I’ll have told the guys by then and will probably need a little cheering up.”

  Con kissed her then, gently, as if she were fragile and valuable. “Whatever you say, hon. Just know that I’m here for you.”

  Chapter Seven

  The workweek passed without mishap. Giselle found herself enjoying the daily visits to the jobs as de facto foreman—forelady?—and found two of her workers had the potential to become foreman before season’s end. All her guys had expressed surprise at Larry’s “defection”, as one of them put it, but she’d gathered from casual remarks that they’d known of Larry’s feelings for her and thought his departure was in her best interests. Especially since several of the
m had met Con and encouraged her to “hook up” with him.

  She didn’t tell them she already had.

  But she’d declared a work-free Saturday, to which they reacted as expected. Some relished a longer weekend, a couple grumbled about missing overtime pay. But she was the boss and, as she’d told them, she needed time to decompress from her new work situation.

  And she needed the day to prepare for Con. Because she’d invited him to spend the night. Premeditated, not because he was too exhausted to leave by midnight as with their prior trysts. They’d talked on the phone every evening, but she hadn’t been inclined to see him. She had to put her life, her future, into perspective first.

  She was stroking blusher on her cheeks when the phone rang. Her heart skipped a beat. Con. He was probably calling to say he’d be there in a few minutes.

  “Hi,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.

  “Mom? Are you okay? You sound like you’ve been running.”

  “Oh. Andrew. I’m fine. I just—dashed to answer the phone, that’s all.”

  “I mean, are you really okay? I heard about Larry. You know I got to be friends with Darren when I worked on his crew last summer and he called me and told me what happened. What a bummer. How are you handling it?”

  “It was somewhat of a learning experience, going out to all the jobs every day, but I’m getting a handle on it. I really love to see the progress the crews make from one day to the next. I have my eye on two of the guys I think could step into the job. Another week or two and I should have my decision.”

  “Good. Now what you need is a boyfriend.”

  Giselle was stunned into silence.

  “It’s been almost four years, Mom, and you’ve been a nun all that time. You need to go out and have some fun. Get laid.”

  “Andrew!”

  “Hey, Dad and I talked about sex all the time. Ever since—”

  “TMI, Andrew,” she cut him off primly. Way too much information from her older son.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Mom. All my friends think so. I’ve even gotten into a couple of fights because they say things I think are disrespectful.”