by R. S. Owl
“Coffee!” I say just a little too loudly as I bolt from my seat causing the man holding my favorite mug to jump just enough to spill some on his hand. He quickly puts the mug on the desk and grabs a tissue to clean the creamy brown drops off his hand. I can tell he’s holding back a few curse words and it almost makes me laugh, but I quickly remember it’s my fault he was scalded by the hot liquid.
“I’m so sorry I startled you. I guess I was excited to see my cup. You know how it is to start a day without it,” I ramble as an explanation, although completely untrue, at least the part about excitement over my cup.
He looks across the desk and locks his eyes on me as he puts his burnt forefinger in his mouth to soothe the burn, and I’m mesmerized by the lips that wrap around his finger.
It’s moments later when Rosey speaks, that I realize he and I are still staring at each other, my mouth is slightly agape, and I still don’t know why this beautiful man is in my office.
“Nora, this is…”
“Sonny,” he cuts in and offers me his other hand to shake while still holding the tissue in his burnt hand. “Everyone calls me Sonny.”
I reach out with an annoyingly unsteady hand to return the handshake as I look to Rosey for an explanation. “I thought when you said, Sonny, you meant S-U-N-N-Y, as in a name you give a ditzy secretary who files her nails all day.”
Sonny chuckles. “I assure you I don’t file my nails. At least not in the office.” He laughs with a small wink in my direction
Did he just wink at me? My feathers ruffle at the gesture. I am not a woman you flirt with. I’m the boss and we better clear that up right now. I don’t care how good looking he is.
I tilt my head and cross my arms. With a small scowl I ask, “Something in your eye, Sonny?” leaving no room to question my seriousness, though honestly, my heart isn’t really in it.
“I apologize, Ma’am. I’m not exactly starting off on the foot I’d hoped to. Rosey tells me you are an amazing boss and I hope in the time I am here I can learn a lot from you. This industry has always interested me, especially the publishing side of things.”
Sonny, who must be at least my age if not older, calling me “Ma’am” is not scoring him any points, however, the intensity of his eyes on me makes the point rather moot.
“It’s Nora.” I state as if I’m highly agitated, gesturing to the chair in front of my desk. “Please take a seat and be quiet while Rosey and I go over this morning’s items. You and I will talk after.” I turn back to Rosey and manage to completely ignore Sonny’s presence during the rest of the two weeks’ worth of updates. At least on the outside I’m ignoring him. Inside, there’s a deafening hum coming from my body.
CHAPTER 5
I can’t help but notice Sonny’s eyes haven’t moved away from me the entire twenty minutes I’ve been being updated regarding the mundane parts of the job. We get to the biggest portion of papers in Rosey’s hand, my least favorite, yet most necessary part of the job; the accounting reports. My grimace says it all when I see the unusually large stack of printouts, yet they were expected.
Both new companies were required to send over the last six months of financials so my accounting department could go over them with a fine tooth comb. In both cases, the major financial failings were fairly easy to pinpoint and will be easy to correct with a few adjustments and some additional capital, but there’s always smaller issues that have gone unchecked in these companies that have outgrown their capabilities, and that’s where I focus my attention.
Like my predecessor, I almost always follow the recommendations of our accounting department and our CFO when it comes to the budget and personnel cuts that can or must be made, but before those decisions are finalized, I personally evaluate each case to make sure I feel they’re in the best interest of both Redoux and our newly acquired subsidiary.
I know with two new holdings this will take the better part of my day, so I take the stack of notes and printouts from Rosey and place them in front of me.
Rosey glances nervously at Sonny, places her hand over her well-developed baby belly and looks back at me. “Well, that’s everything, unless you have anything you need right now.”
My eyes meet Sonny’s and I don’t look away as I tell her, “No. Thank you. I’m going to take a moment to get to know your stand-in, so why don’t you go put your feet up a bit?”
I can sense the obvious indecision as Rosey hesitates to leave us alone.
“Thanks, Rosey,” Sonny offers as if he is giving her permission to leave, his eyes still locked on mine.
He’s either extremely confident, cocky, or he’s testing me. I consider that all three could be true and the thought causes a flutter that I try my best to pretend isn’t happening, while my thighs squeeze rather firmly together.
Rosey blows out a long breath and exits my office, but not without glancing back repeatedly on her way towards the door.
The moment I hear the click of my office door, I ask, “How do you know Rosey?”
I can hear the accusation in my voice but I’m unapologetic about it. If Rosey had a male friend that looked like him the entire time she’s been with me, I’m sure she would have brought him up by now in one of her well-meaning attempts at telling me a personal life was crucial in finding balance. What she calls balance, I call distraction, and I already know Sonny is going to be very distracting. Going to be? Hell! He’s only been here half an hour and I can’t think past those massive hands.
“Actually, I’ve only known Rosey a few months,” Sonny explains. “Her husband, Phil, and I were friends as kids and we only recently ran into each other again. We lost touch sometime during college.”
My first thought that follows this explanation is, what would make Rosey choose to assign someone she’d just met to a position she knows is so important to me? Looking at Sonny, taking in his large frame, muscles trying to bust through the thighs of his slacks and those amazing brown eyes, I can just imagine the things he could talk me into. With very little effort I’m reminded by the noticeable tremor from my lower half.
It dawns on me, however, that the pieces don’t fit. From what Rosey has mentioned in passing, I got the impression Philip had a really rough time of it growing up with a family struggling to make ends meet and in a tough neighborhood.
Sonny appears manicured in every way a man can be; precisely groomed down to the unscuffed shoes on his feet. I can’t imagine him being friends with the goatee-sporting husband of my PA. I know Philip is ultra-enthusiastic about football, and I remember he requested beer over the expensive wine that was flowing freely at last year’s black tie Christmas party. Sonny is most definitely a single malt Scotch type.
My arched eyebrow asks the unspoken question and Sonny continues. “Phil and I lived several blocks apart in completely different neighborhoods, but the park was pretty much right between us. The basketball courts there were where we met. He’s a few years younger than me, but was always a big guy for his age. I, on the other hand, was scrawny and nobody would let me play. We made a good team.”
A giggle escapes before I realize it and my hand flies to my mouth.
“I’m sorry, but you were scrawny?” I question, looking this tall, obviously well-built, man up and down emphatically to make my point.
Amused at my observation he chuckles and says, “Yeah, well, I sort of filled out in college.”
Turning in my seat to face the stack of papers warranting my attention, I pick up my coffee, take a long sip and mutter, “Obviously.”
CHAPTER 6
For reasons I am choosing to ignore, I’m not quite ready for Sonny to leave my office. I begin perusing the papers I’ve set aside to go over and force myself not to look at him as I ask, “So, I’m guessing you know your way around an office, or Rosey wouldn’t have chosen you for the job. What industries have you worked in?”
Sonny starts talking about his education and then something about paper when a note from my CFO catches my attention and
I cut him off, raising a single finger to quiet him as I reread the note and start flipping through the pages of attached accounting printouts.
“What. The. Hell?” I drag out in a hiss.
I realize my finger is still in the air shushing Sonny like a child, and quickly offer my apologies as I hurriedly dial the extension of our CFO. I’m sure my face shows a combination of confusion, panic, and anger because I’m feeling all three when his secretary answers his line. I hang up after she explains he’s out of the office and his phone is turned off, but as soon as she gets through to him she’ll have him call my direct line.
I buzz Rosey’s desk, knowing she wouldn’t have gone far, but instead of her voice coming through the intercom, she immediately pops her head into my office as if she’d been expecting the call. “Yes, Nora?” she asks, still looking as nervous as when she left my office.
I wave her in and remove the paperclip from the bundle of pages in my hand. I pass several sheets over to Rosey and several to Sonny; both looking at me now with concern.
I keep the bulk of the pages myself and tell them, “Look for anything that seems unusual.”
Rosey slightly scowls, looking perplexed, and asks, “Any hints as to what kind of unusual we are looking for?”
“No clue, but for a company whose assets were worth 17.3 million when we began to close just six months ago, to now show a net worth of 13.8 million doesn’t make sense.” I tell them both.
I stare down at the hundreds of lines per page in my hand that include everything from retirement benefits to office supplies, and blow out a long breath. With no idea what I could be looking for, I begin to scan line by line with tedious scrutiny. All thoughts of the playful fantasies I had already given myself permission to indulge in during my lunch break, go to the way side.
As I look over the utility payments, payroll expenses, and waste disposal fees, I can’t help but think we must have missed something in our initial evaluation. This company was barely breaking even, but it wasn’t operating in the red yet. How that turned into a loss of half a million a month, overnight, is beyond me.
Out of the corner of my eye I catch movement and look up to see Sonny adjusting his position. Instead of his eyes on the pages they are on me.
I feel a heat rise up instantly between my thighs when I meet his eyes. What is it about this man? I look at Rosey as she ticks off the lines with a pencil as she goes down the page, totally unaware of the temperature climbing in my lap, and then quickly back to my papers.
Focus, Nora. He’s just a man, I chide myself. Just a man that looks at me like he could own me in a second. Aaannd now I need to change my panties. Fuck.
I take a deep breath and force myself to focus on the task at hand.
***
After nearly an hour of silence from the three of us, minus the occasional rustling of papers, I stand up with an exasperated exhale and ask Rosey, “Do you think he’s going to survive me for three months?” as I point my chin towards Sonny then pick up my mug to finish off the first cup of the day.
She tries to hide her smile, “I think he can hang in there for that long. You only have one major event scheduled and that’s this coming weekend. After that it’s just the daily grind. He’s already familiar with your daily expectations, how to handle your schedule, and he’s obviously done okay with your coffee.”
I look at Sonny. Those damn flutters again. “How’s your shorthand? I do need you to be able to take notes at my meetings.”
“I was a bit rusty, but while you were gone, Rosey helped me get back up to speed. I think I can handle your needs,” he assures me with a glint in his eye that I’m sure isn’t my imagination, and I can’t help but think of the dual meaning of that statement.
“Well, okay,” I say, looking away to hide the flush I’m fighting back.
I push away from my desk and walk around to Rosey. “This could take all day and maybe more. As soon as Carl gets back to me he can help us solve this puzzle,” I tell her as I take the papers from Rosey’s hand and give them to Sonny without looking at him. “As much as I don’t want you to leave, you better escape before I’m tempted to hold you here indefinitely.”
She stands with the help of the chair’s arms, the weight of her child making getting up increasingly difficult lately, and throws her arms around me in a crushing hug.
Rosey is the only person in this building that’s ever hugged me and thankfully only in private, until now. Hell, Rosey is the only person in this building that’s not afraid to be in my personal space really, but I prefer it that way.
As much as I want to fully embrace my assistant and friend, I don’t want Sonny to think this is the norm in my office, so I pull away quickly.
I shoo her away with my hand lightheartedly and head back to my desk holding onto my emotions. “Go be a mommy.”
Sonny stands and walks Rosey to the door.
“Do you need help with anything before you go?” he offers.
“No, actually, I’m all set,” she says blowing out a breath and giving me a final small wave. “I’ll call you after the baby comes, and of course there will be pictures.”
I chuckle, “There had better be.”
Sonny hugs Rosey and says, just barely loud enough for me to hear, “I’ll see you this weekend.”
A last smile from Rosey and she’s out the door. I look down at my papers, sad to see her go, but it’s only three months. What could happen in three months?
CHAPTER 7
I’m not sure how much time has passed as we have continued looking through the documents, though I have tried to reach Carl a couple more times. Apparently he had back to back meetings this morning followed by a school function for his daughter so it could be late afternoon before he gets his messages.
I’ve been doing my best to shake the vibration in the air I feel every time I know Sonny’s eyes are on me again. I should tell him to focus on what he’s supposed to be doing. The truth is I like that he’s looking at me. I just don’t like that I like it.
Suddenly, out of the silence, Sonny stands up and asks eagerly, “Can I borrow your computer?”
Before I have time to answer he’s standing behind me, his arms coming around my shoulders and typing into my search engine ‘Rangeland Waste Disposal.’
One hand goes to my shoulder and I’m too confused and intrigued by what he’s doing to protest, not that I really want to. What the hell is wrong with me today?
The search comes up empty.
He begins typing again and searches for ‘Futures Ink Sellers.’
Nothing.
He leans down to me with a huge grin on his face as if he just won a trophy. I can tell he’s excited before he grabs my shoulders and gives a squeeze, “I’ve got it! Well, at least most of it. I think.”
Instead of walking back around the desk to grab the papers again, he leans across my desk, brushing his torso against me and giving me the benefit of taking in his light woodsy scent.
I’m trying to figure out where’s he’s going with this revelation and at the same time trying not to squirm in my chair as I again press my thighs tightly together.
I blink slowly and take a breath. “Do you care to fill me in?”
“Look at this,” he says enthusiastically pointing to two highlighted lines showing the two names he just searched for. “Each week these two companies were cut a payment of almost fifty thousand dollars, total. Since they print books, it’s not unheard of to need ink and waste disposal right?”
I nod my head still not completely following. Not to mention entranced by his closeness.
“Have you heard of either company?” he asks.
“No, and apparently neither has my computer,”
“Exactly! But you have heard of Kenner Inks and Shoemakers Waste Management, right?”
“Of course,” I say with question in my voice. “Where are you going with this?”
“I’ll show you,” he says pointing to two other lines underlined in i
nk with the names he’d just mentioned. “Why would they be paying weekly two different ink suppliers and two different waste companies?”
Since he’s still reaching around me with his papers in his hands, I reach under his hands for my papers without making him move. Because I really don’t want him going anywhere.
I see that I’d glanced over the exact same information on my sections of the reports. It didn’t even occur to me they were paying for services to different companies who do the same thing.
“And here’s the best part– well, depending on how you’re looking at it,” he says with more excitement in his voice. “Look at the account numbers the payouts went to.”
He goes back to the two unknown companies and points to the section that shows the last six digits of the account numbers the funds were transferred to, and they match.
“I’m guessing,” he says enticingly close to my ear, “if we dig a little further we’ll find not only do these two account numbers match entirely but these aren’t the only companies that were paid that don’t actually exist. So you’re looking at…”
“Embezzlement,” we say in unison as I turn my head to look at him in amazement, also finding myself only a breath away from him.
He’s inches from my mouth and I swallow involuntarily as my eyes leave his and settle on his lips.
I start to speak, but before I get out a sound his mouth is on mine.
My head is protesting but my body turns to meet his mouth completely.
This is a really bad idea, I think as I move my hands to his shirt and pull him closer.
CHAPTER 8
The moan that escapes his mouth feeds the need that’s been winding its way through me since he walked into my office.