Twenty Times Tempted: A Sexy Contemporary Romance Collection

by Petrova, Em

  Glancing through the forms, Christine saw they were pineapple order invoices from a few weeks ago. “Yes, it appears to be.”

  “Appears?”

  “I usually don’t sign at the top, as this one is. I always sign near the bottom.” Christine pointed to demonstrate what she meant. “But it does appear to be my signature so I must have been in a hurry.”

  “To leave on your dream trip, no doubt.” Mrs. Bensen handed her another stack. “And these? Did you get in a hurry and sign these in a haphazard manner?”

  Damn, she’d dug the hole deeper. Lovely. Christine studied the next pile, more order invoices for pineapples from Hawaii, from Charlie. His signature appeared at the bottom as usual. She always signed right over his name, so he’d joked several times she ‘liked to be on top’. But these, like the previous pile, contained her signature in the upper corner of the page. She wouldn’t have made such a mistake all these times. “I didn’t mean to imply I rushed through, Jim, just I was in a hurry.”

  “You’ll address Mrs. Bensen only, Ms. Howell.”

  Oh my God. I’m in deep trouble and I have no idea why. Christine shifted to focus on the other woman. Mrs. Benson cleared her throat. “Is this your authorization and signature on both stacks of invoices?”

  “Except for my signature being in the wrong place, they all appear to be signed by me. As I said, I always sign at the bottom, right above the shipper. In those cases, Mr. Jergens’. So the ones where I signed at the bottom are mine. I mean, I definitely authorized those. But where my name is at the top, I don’t recall signing there, because I never do. I might have been in a hurry once, but not all the time on all the forms.”

  “Pay particular attention to the numbers, for the total payment made and the routing accounts.”

  For a minute Christine missed it. The orders were duplicated, yet the routing numbers and total to be paid were different. The corporation paid both the higher amount and the correct lower one.

  Charlie would have caught the mistake when the payments posted; he’d have called her right away. Oh crap. Charlie didn’t catch it because he hadn’t seen the duplicates, the wrong ones. Christine’s mouth went dry. If the incorrect payments had been made into the Hawaii office account, Charlie would have immediately called her to get it straight. He always checked the invoices and payments, called her with any questions, even the smallest ones. But if the extra payments didn’t go through Hawaii, where did they go? Routing numbers, Mrs. Bensen said. Christine compared both stacks and found the routing numbers different so the second payments had transferred to another account. No wonder Charlie hadn’t caught it; the payments had never come to him. Her heart all but stopped. A whole lot of corporate money had gone into a false account. Mrs. Bensen and Jim thought Christine used her orders with Charlie to steal corporation funds. Oh my holy God.

  “Can you explain the discrepancies?” Mrs. Bensen leaned forward, her expression direct and filled with challenge.

  Christine shook her head. “No, I can’t. How many of these are duplicated and transferred somewhere besides Hawaii?”

  “We’ve analyzed the Hawaii accounts and the ones from this office. When totaled, the obviously faked invoices have a sum of over nine hundred thousand dollars.”

  Christine inhaled and felt the blood drain from her face. Dear lord. And they thought she stole it because her signature appeared on the faked invoices? Calm, be calm, stay focused, oh God. “I’m not certain what is going on, but I’ll do my best to help you get to the bottom of it. Please let me assure you, I’m not responsible for these errors, and I have no idea where the missing money is.”

  “Only you and Mr. Jergens handled these transactions. You have indicated it is indeed your signature on both stacks of invoices.” Mrs. Bensen held her hand up. “Are you implying he is at fault?”

  “No!” Christine cried so loud Mrs. Bensen and Jim both gaped at her. She cleared her throat and said close to her normal tone. “Mr. Jergens is the most dedicated employee this corporation has. He would never be involved in something like this. There’s no way he’s at fault.”

  Mrs. Bensen lifted both hands now. “Then you’re solely at fault?”

  She may be in shock, but she had some brains. “I’m not making fake invoices and stealing money. I wouldn’t ever do something illegal and wrong.”

  “Then who did?” Mrs. Bensen leaned back, crossed her legs, and tapped one finger on her knee. “You say it’s not Mr. Jergens, and it’s not you. Who is it then?

  “I have no idea.” I only know it’s not me or Charlie. Oh God, he’s up for promotion, mentions it every time we talk. What will this investigation do to his chances? Christine felt actual physical sickness in her stomach. “But I will help you any way I can.”

  “I suggest we go through each transaction one at a time.” Mrs. Bensen glanced at the files and clutter. “Jim, clear away some of this so I ensure Ms. Howell’s focus is exclusively on the invoices in question.”

  Christine spent the next four hours going over and over figures, invoices, ordering, corporation policy, and explaining her actions, accounts, contracts, and everyday business for the last year. She gave detailed explanations for each and every transaction she’d made and the whole time she wondered if she would be fired or worse, arrested. When they’d exhausted every corporation business venture she even remotely had a hand in, Mrs. Bensen pulled out yet another stack of papers and handed them to her. “Ms. Howell, you’ve made several deposits into your personal checking account, opened Cds, taken your ‘dream vacation’, and done extensive home repairs all within the last six months.”

  Christine stared in disbelief while Mrs. Bensen talked about her private, she thought, bank records. How did the corporation get them?

  Jim answered her unasked question. “The corporation subpoenaed all bank records under your name, Ms. Howell, as part of the investigation.”

  She still couldn’t comprehend it. The corporation thought she stole and would be dumb enough to deposit the money into her own checking account which they could freely access? She thought the direct deposit for paychecks and ‘no secrecy’ clause everyone signed at hire was for ease in paying employees. Corporation accountants could see anything they wanted it seemed. All without me even aware Big Brother was watching me.

  “How do you explain these deposits? They aren’t your salary.” Mrs. Bensen watched her so close Christine felt as though she was under a high tech microscope.

  Pain she’d long believed dulled shot through her. She had to go through with this, explain it all, even if it hurt. “Oh. Well, then the Corporation should have seen they were insurance settlements, right?”

  “The transaction simply says ‘deposit’, not ‘transfer from an insurance company’.” Mrs. Bensen’s raised brows showed her as skeptical as her voice.

  “They’re from my husband’s life insurance.” Christine swallowed more sarcasm. “The company received a court order to pay me so they sent checks, and I deposited them into my checking or savings account.” Guess Big Brother Corp couldn’t get access to everything. “I can get my bank to do a complete print out, which shows the actual checks I deposited and where they came from.”

  “Your husband died over three years ago.” Mrs. Bensen glanced through a file. “Why did it take the insurance company so long to settle?”

  Jim sat silent, offering no support, though he knew all the circumstances. Christine twisted her fingers then forced the words out. “The company refused to settle without an official death certificate, and it took time, pending autopsy results. Plus, there were lawsuits disputing the beneficiary.”

  “What lawsuits?” Mrs. Bensen’s tapped the file. As Christine hesitated, she pulled out a cell phone. “I could simply call the local newspaper, search for your husband’s obituary and any other articles concerning his name and death if you refuse to cooperate.”

  Christine closed her eyes. “His car hit a guardrail on the interstate and crashed over the side of the moun
tain, killing him and the, the woman with him instantly. His blood alcohol level tested above the legal limit, so the insurance company refused, at first, to pay, citing reckless endangerment and DWI canceled any payout.”

  “So you sued the insurance company?”

  Christine met Mrs. Bensen’s stare but didn’t really see her. “No. His brother fought for the insurance payoff because I’m the sole beneficiary. He alleged I had something to do with Randy’s death because of the insurance money. The judge held his decision until final cause of death could be determined.”

  Mrs. Bensen kept her gaze on Christine’s. “And what did the determination turn out to be?”

  “Accident caused by intoxication and probably driver distraction from the fact the woman with him wasn’t just sitting in the car or even in her seat.” Christine wiped away a tear she barely realized had fallen and felt more humiliated than she could ever recall, except when she confessed all this to Charlie. “So the company settled six months ago and sends me monthly checks I deposit into my account. Randy set it up before he died so I could support my children, pay for their college or whatever they needed if something happened to him. I can give you the name of the insurance company, the agent, and the court docket number, even the judge’s name and decision. It’s all at home though.”

  “It would be appreciated. Thank you.” Mrs. Bensen broke their gazes and closed the file.

  Christine put her head in her hands, uncaring if she appeared guilty or weak. If Mrs. Bensen pressed any further, asked any more questions about Randy, his lover, and the circumstances of their deaths, it would get real ugly. Only Maddy and Charlie were aware of the whole truth; she’d kept the worst secret so Adam and Anna didn’t learn. Oh God, please make her stop. Please.

  “You have my condolences,” Mrs. Bensen spoke softly. “I didn’t realize the circumstances and understand how painful this must be for you.”

  “Thank you.” Just leave it alone. Please just leave it alone. Don’t make me relive the pain not only was my husband continually unfaithful, he died getting oral sex from the mistress he lived with and provided for in another town. A mistress his family knew all about and supported over his own wife and children. Don’t make me remember how his brother tried to kill me after his funeral or how my house still bears scars from what his family did. Please, please don’t ask me any more questions about my dead husband.

  “I still need to ask a few more questions.” Mrs. Bensen cleared her throat. “The deposits make everything suspect.”

  Numbness sank into her bones as Christine raised her head. “I realize how it appears. The insurance settlement is ten thousand dollars every month, exactly what some of the discrepancies in the invoices add up to, right? But I don’t need or have a reason to steal. I work because I love my job. Most of the time.”

  Mrs. Bensen’s lips quirked as she tapped fingers on her knee. The seconds ticked off as they regarded each other. “Until we determine exactly who is at fault, you have been placed on administrative leave. Effectively immediately.”

  Had she not still been sitting, she’d have fallen. Administrative leave, the step before termination of employment. Christine swallowed and nodded. Had Charlie received this? Would he lose his promotion because of this whole mess? No wonder he didn’t want to talk to her.

  “Jim will escort you from the building.” Mrs. Bensen stood. “You’re not to discuss this investigation with anyone within this corporation or you will be immediately terminated from employment. Do you understand?” Christine nodded once more, unable to speak even if her life depended upon it. “Not anyone, Ms. Howell. But to be specific, Charlie Jergens. Talking to him will jeopardize continued employment with this corporation and could lead to criminal charges.”

  “I understand.” Christine gathered her purse, keys, and coffee. She had to get out of here while she could still walk. No matter what Mrs. Bensen just ordered, she had to talk to Charlie right away, even if she got fired or went to jail. “Good bye.”

  The stares of other coworkers as Jim walked her toward the elevators were almost unbearable: Tom, his mouth hanging open, Laci with her smug expression, Kathy, just watching.

  “My hands are tied. It’s all above me, way above me. There’s nothing I can say or do to stop this,” Jim said.

  “It’s not me. I swear.” Christine entered the elevator.

  Jim waited until the doors closed to grip her hand. “It will get settled, one way or another.”

  “I’ve been with this corporation and office over ten years. I could never do this.”

  He watched the elevator numbers until they halted. “Send the documents Mrs. Bensen requested by courier to me ASAP. I’ll call you if there are any new developments or if she needs anything further. Take care. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Christine walked in a daze to her car and laid her head on the steering wheel. How could people like Jim, who worked with her for years, believe for one second she’d steal? “I have to warn Charlie.” When he answered his cell, all sleepy voiced, she took a second to breathe and not blurt out the whole mess. “Hi, hope I didn’t wake you. We need to talk.”

  Chapter Eight

  Christine’s voice woke Charlie, making him so happy. For a minute, he wanted to hop a plane straight to the mainland. Then he remembered everything. Damn, what the hell could he do? “Hey, what’s going on?”

  “I’m on administrative leave,” she whispered, her tone thick and unsteady. Damn. Damn. Damn. He could handle anything but the strongest woman he’d ever met breaking into tears. Damn. “Mrs. Bensen and the corporation think I’ve been stealing money, making fake orders, changing numbers and everything. And they said it could only be me or you.”

  What am I supposed to say? How can I comfort you?

  “It’s not you, Charlie. I told them it’s not you.”

  It’s not you. He wanted more than anything to say the words, yet he remained silent.

  “I didn’t do this. I swear.” Her words rushed out. “They even pulled my bank records and asked me about the insurance deposits.”

  “They pulled your bank records?” Charlie sat up, outraged on her behalf.

  “She, Mrs. Bensen, showed them to me and asked me about all the deposits, so I explained about the insurance settlement. But I’m not sure she really believed me. I didn’t think they could get my personal records.” She babbled, a nervous habit when she became upset. “But then I thought about you and your promotion and what this could all mean to you. This is a formal investigation, so if I didn’t cooperate they’d call the newspapers. I couldn’t let them make me relive the whole ugly mess from when Randy died or let Adam and Anna go through it all over again.”

  Charlie heard her swallow and could all but see her struggling to stay in control. Double shit. The corporation pulled her records without her knowledge; at least he had received warning. No wonder Peg told him to hire an attorney. He would—for Christine. “Sweetheart.”

  “It’s not me.” Fear entered her voice. “I swear on my life it’s not. But I feel with everything I am, it’s not you either.”

  He could see, feel, the tears rolling down her smooth face, yet he could do nothing to stop them, nothing to protect her.

  “How can anyone think I’d steal nine hundred thousand dollars? I’d never steal nine let alone nine hundred thousand. But my name is on the fake orders, my signature, and yours too. They think I did this and tried to harm you. Which I’d never, ever do and ruin both our jobs. And what about your big promotion, the one you’ve worked so hard to get? Have I messed it up even though it’s not me?”

  Her voice broke. He clutched his phone so tight he heard the plastic creak. God, he wanted to hold her, tell her it would all work out and be normal again, and reassure her it was some simple mistake they’d laugh about later. The true thief would soon be caught. She’d be back at work, smiling from the video screen, flirting in her shy way, making him half-mad with desire. She sniffled, so strong, honest, and almost na
ïve despite the hard road she’d traveled in life. Whoever set her, set him, up for this counted on her trust, goodness, and belief in people.

  “I just wanted to tell you what’s going on, so when Mrs. Bensen comes, you aren’t totally unprepared.” She had to be under the same directive not to discuss this with him, yet she put her own career at risk to warn him. On leave, in shock, accused, and she thought of him first. How could he not say anything? Her tone implied brokenness, and he couldn’t bear it. But if he told her what Peg had implied, he risked their whole future. Damn. Damn. Damn.

  She needed to fight, not give in or give up. Charlie gave a push even as bile rose in his throat. “Thanks. Hang in there. It will all work out. Everything will be fine.” Could she read between the lines? Did she understand what he meant?

  Her voice hurt, confused, and a bit angry Christine replied, “Gee, thanks for your words of encouragement.”

  Charlie grinned. There, the temper she usually kept well under wraps sizzled about to burst. Get mad, sweetheart. If you’re angry, you’ll fight. Don’t let this roll you or let this embezzler win for one second. “I need to go take my run and get to work. Maybe I’ll call you later.”

  “Sure.” Oh yeah, definite anger coming through, her voice was clipped, short to the point of rudeness in the word.

  Stay mad. I’m furious too. “Great. Enjoy the free time. Most people would love it.”

  “Sure. Bye.” Christine hung up.

  He’d sounded callous and unfeeling, and he hated it. But an angry Christine meant action. He’d seen it before; she channeled angry into something productive. She’d rage first then get down to discovering who set her up. Jogging accomplished the same for Charlie, plus it helped him regain leg mobility, stay in shape, and mull over problems and possible solutions. He had to figure a way to help Christine and yet keep to the corporation directive.

  ***

  Christine stared at her cell phone, unable to comprehend why Charlie had been unfeeling and blunt to the point of being rude. What the hell? She drove home in a daze. She couldn’t talk to him, but she’d always been able to talk to him. Once she arrived home, she simply stood in the living room. What did she do? The bed seemed so tempting; crawl under the covers, shut away the world and forget everything in dreams. Or she could eat ice cream and watch day time television, a mini vacation from her vacation. She opened the freezer and chocolate almond called to her.