Building Billions - Part 2

by Lexy Timms

  They already knew Nina had tried to burn down my damn files room. They didn’t need to know anymore.

  I picked up the phone and called Markus. I knew he would help me out in a situation like this. He always had, no matter what type of advice I was asking him about. But his line kept ringing. I gave it a few minutes and tried him again, but it still shot me to voice mail. I decided to place a call to his secretary back in Alberta to see if she could get in touch with him, but all she could tell me was that he was in a few emergency meetings with his company.

  Which I understood, given the reason he’d made his trip to Miami in the first place.

  I drew in a deep breath before I reached over to my intercom. I pressed the button that led straight into Ross’s office and asked him to come in when he had a moment. He was the only other person I trusted to volley these types of ideas against. I needed someone who didn’t mind playing devil’s advocate so I could make sure I was making the best decision for my company.

  “You rang?” Ross asked.

  “Can you come in and shut the door?”

  “Shit. What the hell else has happened?” he asked as he shut the door.

  “I know you and Markus have differing opinions on this, but I want to get your feedback on hiring a private detective,” I said.

  “You know I think you should involve the police,” he said.

  “And Markus thinks I should do close to nothing, yes.”

  “Is it a good move to have Markus know something this personal about our company?”

  “I trust Markus with my life. It was the efforts he put in here for the first three or four years of Big Steps’ life that put us where we are today. Up until he moved his own headquarters to Canada, he was a massive player with us. Without the risks he coached us into taking, we’d have none of this. So yes, I trust him with something like this.”

  “You don’t have to get all defensive, but finances are finances, and even married couples sink with them sometimes. I don’t want us making any hasty moves,” he said.

  “Like involving the police?” I asked.

  “That’s not a hasty move. Someone’s stealing from us, Jimmy.”

  “And reallocating assets and all sorts of stuff. I’ve spent days digesting Ashley’s notes and findings.”

  “Should we get her in here for this?” he asked.

  “She called out sick today. Migraine.”

  “Again? Hasn’t she been doing that a lot lately?”

  “You have a very accusatory tone to that question. You wanna try that again?”

  “I’m not accusing her of anything. All I’m saying is, even for a corporate employee—”

  “You were the one who sanctioned a laptop for her to use so she could remote in. What did you expect her to do? Work here Monday through Friday and remote in on the weekends?” I asked.

  “Jimmy. Back off. You’re already coming at this with wound up emotions. You’ll get nowhere this way.”

  I drew in a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves. But honestly? They were fried. I raked my hands down my face and turned my chair to Ross. He was sitting in the chair across from my desk, his leg over his knee and his hands in his lap. Had it not been for his terrible habit of biting his lower lip when he got nervous, I would’ve said he looked too calm for a situation like the one we were in.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you ready for me to outline the reality to you?” Ross asked.

  “Yes. Go.”

  “If the investors find out about this, we could lose everything. With the media scandal we just had, they would surely bail, no matter what types of figures Ashley could throw at them. She was our only saving grace this time around, but we have no safety net.”

  “Yet you want to involve the police?” I asked.

  “Because if we don’t and the investors find out, they’re going to automatically assume it’s us taking the money.”

  “Why? What would make them jump to that conclusion?”

  “You’re not the only one who’s been digesting those balance sheets. The first three years of the company have those same weird reallocations and debits, but no initials are involved. The only logical assumption is that we were doing something. Remember, we didn’t get username or password attachments to anything until our fourth or fifth year. The investors will draw conclusions of their own before the police can even lift a finger—because they will get involved at that point underneath investor pressure—and we’re done. Screwed. Boiled in hot water because we didn’t want to involve them before the investors figured it out.”

  “They haven’t figured it out up until this point,” I said. “There isn’t enough of a natural flag to do anything.”

  “We went from no one knowing to four people knowing and panicking. It’s only a matter of time,” he said.

  “Well, none of that is going to happen. I’m not losing my company over something like this. But in that scenario, Markus’s idea of keeping it low-key doesn’t work, either, which brings me back to the middle ground. What do you think about a private detective? Possibly a team?”

  “Before we even get there, I want to ask something. And it’s redundant, so bear with me, because it needs to be revisited. Are we sure this isn’t Nina?”

  “Why does this need to be revisited?” I asked.

  “Because I got a call from our lawyer early this morning. Nina’s been bailed out of jail until her trial.”

  “She what?” I asked. “This isn’t on the news, is it?”

  Because that would be a damn good reason for Ashley to call in sick.

  “No, it’s not. None of this is. I’ve kept on our PR department to make sure this stays out of the media.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Well, good.”

  Maybe Ashley was sick after all.

  “And routing back to your redundant question, Ashley said she chased that lead down. In fact, she told me it was the first one she tried, given all that’s happened. There was nothing that linked back to her at all.”

  “I could try to give it a look-see, just for a second opinion,” Ross said.

  “If you want to, that’s fine,” I said.

  “And as far as your private detective or whatever goes, I think it’s a good idea. We need to involve someone who can help us figure out what the hell’s going on. I have no idea why in the world Markus would advise you to do nothing.”

  “He didn’t say ‘do nothing.’ He said, ‘keep it as in-house as possible.’ As in, don’t let the media catch wind of it.”

  “Then he’ll be on your side when we hire PIs who can sign an NDA and keep their mouths shut,” he said.

  “You look into Nina one last time, and I’ll start research private investigators who could possibly help us out. I want to have one hired no later than tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Sounds good, but you better hire one quickly. Even as we speak, these problems are probably still occurring. The newest balance sheet comes out in a few days, and I’m sure it’ll piss us off.”

  “Did you get that packet from IT on the IP addresses we asked for?”

  “I’m expecting it before lunch today,” he said.

  “Send me a copy when you get it.”

  “Will do.”

  The day was long, and the IP document from our tech department didn’t yield any other answers. From the garbled jargon they used, it seemed like someone was rerouting their IP addresses all over the damn country. They said it would take some time to dig into what was going on, and even then, our IT department didn’t have anyone employed to look into this like we needed.

  Which only fueled my desire to hire a professional who could keep quiet.

  I locked everything away and turned my mind to Ashley. She had sent me a text message just after lunch with a picture of the prescription the doctor had written for her, a very high dose of migraine medication as well as something to help with nausea.

  And it sparked a small fear in my chest.


  I left work, hopped into my car, and made my driver stop at the flower shop as well as the deli. I picked up a beautiful bouquet of softly-scented flowers along with a quart of brothy vegetable soup. Even though I had seen the prescriptions, I still felt like Ashley was hiding something from me. That nausea medication kept scratching at my mind, and her sudden onset of such a severe migraine had me worried.

  Was it possible Ashley was pregnant?

  I told my driver to park in the garage and wait for me. I had a feeling Ashley wouldn’t want me to stay, and I didn’t want to put her in a position where she felt the need to offer. I took the elevator up to her floor and knocked on her door, listening as she shuffled behind it.

  When she opened the door, she seemed relatively all right.

  “I take it the medication’s working?” I asked.

  “Are those for me?” she asked.

  “Of course, they are. The soup as well,” I said.

  “Jimmy, you’re so kind. Come on. I’ll get them in some water.”

  I watched her walk and noted how stable she was on her feet. Minus the bags underneath her eyes and the light slump in her shoulders, she didn’t seem to be sick. That could’ve been the medication hard at work, but it didn’t do anything to abate the fears in my mind.

  “I really wish you would’ve let me come with you this afternoon,” I said.

  “No offense, but your car is loud. It practically roars down the road,” Ashley said.

  “Is a cab quieter?”

  “Immensely. It doesn’t have a souped-up engine,” she said. “No pun intended.”

  Her eyes dropped to the soup I was carrying before a grin crawled across her cheeks.

  “Well, whatever the doctor has you on, it seems to be working,” I said.

  “It is. The medicine for the nausea was in case it was coming from a different source. But when I took the migraine medication, the nausea disappeared about an hour after the migraine did.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” I said.

  “Are you staying for soup?”

  “No. This all for you. I didn’t want to crowd you if you were still unwell once I arrived. My driver’s down in the garage.”

  “Are you upset I chose not to come into work?” she asked.

  “I was the one who gave you the day. I’m glad you took it. It seems to have done you some good.”

  Her smile lit up her cheeks, and I couldn’t help the way my eyes danced down her body. She took the flowers and the soup from me and quickly arranged the flowers in a vase she had filled. My eyes kept dropping to her stomach. Was it possible she could still be pregnant? Had the doctor run any kind of test like that? Was that something I should ask her?

  My eyes whipped up to hers as she turned to me, a mug of soup in her hands.

  “I’ve only seen people on television drink soup that way,” I said.

  “I eat cereal and milk from a cup too. Makes drinking the milk after easier,” Ashley said.

  “In another lifetime, you were probably an inventor.”

  “Or a connoisseur of pizza. I’ve eaten it so much in my lifetime that it only makes sense.”

  The two of us shared a little laugh before I walked over to her. I wrapped my arm around her, pulled her close, and kissed the top of her head. She was warm, welcoming, and inviting, instinctively curling into me like she always did. I closed my eyes and envisioned what she would be like pregnant with her stomach round with child and her breasts full. Heat shoot up my spine as I let her go, my eyes raking along the curves that would grow if she was pregnant, the thighs that would thicken and the hips that would widen.

  Holy hell, Ashley would be beautiful pregnant.

  “I hope you enjoy the soup,” I said as I cleared my throat.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” she asked.

  “If I do stay, I won’t be able to contain myself.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Because even when you’re sick, you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and I felt my legs go numb. The things this woman did to me with a simple smile were unimaginable. I bent down and pressed a kiss to her cheek, chancing one last intimate encounter before I took my leave.

  But I couldn't stop that question from running through my mind.

  Was Ashley pregnant? And if she was, why wasn’t she telling me?

  Chapter 20

  Ashley

  What Jimmy had done for me was so sweet, but I was scared he thought I was lying to him. I could tell he was uneasy in my apartment yesterday despite his outward demeanor. I had already admitted to lying to him once about calling out sick, and I was concerned he didn’t trust me. It was why I had sent him the prescriptions the doctor had written me in the office.

  I went past Jimmy’s office and decided to stick my head in. I opened the door and smiled, watching as his head whipped up from his papers. Instead of offering me a kind smile, his stern expression set in.

  “You should knock,” he said.

  “I’ve never knocked before,” I said.

  “Well, you should. What if I had been in a meeting?”

  Furrowing my brow, I closed his office door. Maybe he was simply having a bad morning. I walked into my office and kept my door open, hoping to get a peak of Jimmy whenever he left. But he stayed in his office all day and not once did he open his door so we could see one another.

  He always kept his door open so we could see one another.

  Shit, he thought I was lying to him about something. That had to be it. I saw him smile at his receptionist and have a friendly conversation with Ross. He hadn’t ducked his head in to ask me if I wanted anything for lunch or even to offer having lunch in my office like he usually did.

  Something was wrong, and I needed to talk with him.

  “Ashley.”

  “Jimmy. Hey. I was just coming to find you,” I said.

  “Did you forget about the meeting this afternoon?” he asked.

  “What meeting?” I asked.

  “I put it on your calendar four hours ago.”

  “You never put anything on my calendar. You always come and tell me personally.”

  “Didn’t have the time today. Come on. You’ve made us late.”

  I gathered up my things as tears welled in my eyes. I tried to blink them back as we flipped into a company-wide financial meeting. I took minutes of the meeting and recorded it, jotting down everything I could remember and making tick marks when I couldn’t get everything down. The meeting was almost two hours long, and Jimmy didn’t look at me once.

  It was like he was intentionally trying to avoid me.

  “Hey, Ashley. We’re all going out for a bite to eat,” Ross said. “Wanna come?”

  I looked over at Jimmy, and he cleared his throat.

  “Yes, Ashley. You should join us,” he said.

  Robotically, like it was required of him to invite me.

  “Sure,” I said. “I worked through lunch again, so I could go for a bite to eat.”

  “Stop doing that,” Jimmy said. “You’ll get this company in trouble if we get audited.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m still clocking out for lunch,” I said.

  A bunch of us went out for lunch together, but Ross kept tossing us odd looks. Jimmy wasn’t sitting next to me, and he rarely addressed me over the course of our meal. He didn’t offer to pay, and he left before I could ask him to talk with me. Ross offered me a ride back to the company.

  The car ride was silent, though I knew he wanted to ask questions.

  The only bet I had was catching him after work. I sat in my office and tried to wrap things up. Then, I sent him an email with the minutes of the meeting in it. I stood from my desk as I saw his door rip open, and I ran up to him and grabbed his arm.

  “Can we talk?” I asked.

  “I’ve got a meeting with Markus,” Jimmy said.

  “I thought Markus was alre
ady gone?”

  “He’s extended his time in Miami. We’re going for some drinks.”

  “That sounds like fun. Do you want some company?”

  “I’ll have Markus.”

  “I mean, Jamie might like some company,” I said.

  “She’ll be fine.”

  His words punched me in the gut as I dropped my gaze to my feet.

  “Call me later? Let me know how it goes?” I asked. “If you can.”

  “If I’ve got time, I will, Ashley.”

  “And be careful. Don’t, you know, drink too many drinks and drive.”

  “My driver’s taking me. I’ll be fine,” he said.

  I watched him walk toward the elevator as Ross stuck his head out of his office. I didn’t try to conceal the tears flooding down my cheek. I turned and headed for my office, determined to bury myself in some paperwork.

  I called Cass and told her to pick up Chipper for me, so I knew he would be okay for the night.

  “Ashley, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Just lots of work,” I said.

  “You’ve been crying,” she said.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “You’re my best friend. I know when you’ve been crying. Did that asshole do something to you?”

  “Jimmy? He’s not an asshole.”

  “He is if he made you cry,” she said.

  I sighed and sat back into my chair as I turned toward the windows. Nighttime was descending onto Miami, and the town was coming to life. Jimmy was out to drinks with Markus and Jamie, and he was probably talking about how I was a liar, a filthy, bullshit liar like the rest of the women in his life were.

  Or something like that.

  “Ashley? You there?” Cass asked.

  “I think I know who L.R. is,” I said.

  “What?”

  “In fact, I’m almost positive I know who it is. The problem is it’s someone this company trusts immensely, and I’m not sure Jimmy’s going to believe me.”

  “Who the fuck cares? You have to tell him, Ashley. Why the hell have you not already told him?”