It only took the mental image of Muntan getting his pompous ass reamed by a dominatrix with a strap-on to send Renee into peals of laughter.
Muntan’s already florid face turned purple. “I fail to see the humor, Ms. Swarovski.”
Renee wiped the tears from her eyes and waved dismissively. “Of course you wouldn’t.” Renee wasn’t about to enlighten him, either. Especially when she was about to give him the ass-fucking of his corporate life.
CEO Brian Noble shot a quelling glance at Muntan, then said pleasantly, “Renee, would you care to give us your report?”
Renee nodded. The file was already up on her notepad. All she had to do was read it—and avoid looking in Muntan’s direction. A quick glance at Harold Saunders proved that there was at least one board member who shared her opinion of Muntan, unless that faint glimmer of a smile was at her expense. And Harold is board chairman…
Renee had been looking forward to this meeting for some time. The financial side of things had seemed slightly off-kilter to her for the last few meetings, and she’d finally smelled a rat and done some digging. What she’d found hadn’t surprised her a bit. Muntan was doctoring the reports. Very subtly, of course, but she’d found it. Now all she had to do was convince the board—and Brian.
She’d had to cut staff despite the fact that the company appeared to be doing well, and it rankled with her. Since she was in charge of the hands-on part of running the company, the reduction in staff had been her responsibility, and she’d hated every minute of it. As a result, her reputation as a hard-ass had grown considerably in recent months, along with her increasing desire to start her own company.
But that would have to wait until she rescued this company.
Taking the floor with all the confidence of a woman who could pull off wearing black leather and wielding a whip with panache, she gave her report. “Some months ago, it became apparent to me that the sales vs. profit vs. expenditure margins were, shall we say, incompatible? I was told to reduce staff, which I did, although I, personally, could see no reason for it given the sales numbers.” She focused her gaze on Harold Saunders. If anyone would support her, it would be him.
“We lost many valuable employees in that reduction, people who’d contributed greatly to this company’s success. To have to fire any of them went against my better judgment, but the ultimate decision in this case was not mine.” Her eyes flicked to Brian in an attempt to gauge his reaction. However, his inscrutable expression gave nothing away.
“I could easily have let this pass, as I have had to do many times before. However, this time, I decided that the matter called for further investigation. I began following the financial reports on a daily basis and finally detected a pattern. Sales numbers appeared to be good despite a slight reduction in profits—almost as though everything had been discounted by two percent.
“Although two percent doesn’t seem like much, over time, this would constitute a considerable amount.” She paused, allowing her gaze to rest on George Muntan’s smug countenance for the briefest of moments. “Particularly if it was going into someone’s personal bank account.”
A flurry of murmurs broke out in the board room. Muntan, however, remained impassive. For once, he wasn’t badmouthing her. On the other hand, if looks could’ve killed…
“Also, following the reduction in staff, I noted that beyond the severance pay paid to those former employees, an additional payment was made, which is categorized as a recalculated severance payment—one which none of the employees in question claim to have ever received.”
She pulled up the figures on the meeting room’s projection screen. “As you can see, all of these payments were made on the same day and in varying amounts. However, if you’ll look closer, you can see that of those sixty payments, there are only five different routing and account numbers.
“It seems to me that a mere underling wouldn’t have been able to authorize these payments without being noticed. I therefore suggest that the perpetrator is someone high on the corporate ladder.” She glanced at Harold and then at Muntan. “And I suspect we’ll find that someone here in this very room.”
Harold got to his feet with fire in his eyes, glaring at Muntan. “Someone I’ve wanted to nail to the wall for a very long time.”
Muntan was clearly outraged—his color flushed and veins popping out on his forehead—although not, Renee suspected, because of any sexual overtones in Harold’s statement. “I’d be careful with my accusations, Ms. Swarovski. You’re treading on dangerous ground.”
“Am I? How so?”
“You could’ve easily authorized those payments yourself.” Renee had anticipated this argument, and was therefore able to ignore Muntan’s false bravado.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Renee said evenly. “I might have wanted to pay those people more money, but I would’ve made sure it went to them, rather than to only five separate accounts.”
Muntan snorted. “Would you? You already have the reputation as a hard-assed heartless bitch. No one would be surprised to find that you stole from them.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I may be a hard-assed heartless bitch, but I am not dishonest. For example, I don’t have five different bank accounts. However, I suspect that you do.”
Muntan rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Prove it.”
“I intend to. Once this investigation is officially underway, I’d be willing to bet that a judge will believe these irregularities call for a court order for the release of those particular bank accounts.”
“And I’ll bet they’re all listed under your name,” Harold said with a sneer. “You aren’t smart enough to cover your tracks completely, George.”
“Setting up bogus bank accounts is hard to do without identification,” Renee said. “Then again, perhaps fake ID’s aren’t as tough to come by as they used to be.”
Muntan waved a hand in disgust. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I believe I do,” Renee went on. “And since the SEC has cited a company’s chief executive officer and/or chief financial officer for some level of involvement in eighty-nine percent of fraud cases studied, I think we need look no further.”
Muntan rounded on Brian. “Well, now, if that’s the case, perhaps we should be investigating you, as well.”
Renee’s heart nearly stopped. She hadn’t intended to implicate Brian, nor had she ever contemplated the possibility that he might be involved. She was merely quoting the findings of the SEC study. “I believe any investigation of Mr. Noble would prove that he was not involved in this fraudulent activity—or should I say, theft?”
“We’ll see about that,” Muntan said, slamming his hands down on the table. “My lawyer will be in contact with you.” With that, he got to his feet. “I believe this meeting is over.”
Although Renee wanted nothing more than to call the police and throw Muntan’s sorry ass in jail at that very moment, she had no doubt that it would happen eventually. She’d done her job in exposing him. The board—and subsequently, the law—could take it from there.
* * * *
Toby already missed Renee, and she hadn’t been gone a full day yet. Lance had gone to work, leaving him home alone. This wasn’t unusual, but coming off the best weekend of his life, Toby felt rather lonely. Picking up a sketch pad, he began drawing idly, until he realized that what he had drawn was an anime version of a whip-wielding, corset-clad Renee. Excitement struck instantly, and his pencil raced over the page. First one drawing and then another, followed by one of her with Lance that was so hot it made his dick hard.
Holy shit… The idea for a new game began popping into his head and he practically ran to his computer. Scanning in the images, he set about cleaning up the lines and filling in the color. Animating them came next. Toby had never worked so quickly or so surely before. He was on to something big, and his mind and fingers were flying. Ideas for game levels, strategies, villains, and weapons occurred to him faster than he could type
them in.
Finally, he sat back to review his work. Hours had passed and his stomach was protesting loudly, but Toby was so elated he barely noticed. It would take months to develop the game fully, but time was something he had in abundance. He couldn’t wait to show it to Lance and Renee.
Unfortunately, while he could show it to Lance that evening, he would have to wait until the weekend to show it to Renee. He couldn’t even tell her about it until then, because he had no idea where she lived or worked. In all the excitement, they had never even exchanged phone numbers or e-mail addresses.
That was stupid. Then fear that they might never see her again gripped his heart. What if she had second thoughts? What if she decided they were too kinky? At least one person knew where she’d been that weekend. What if it got out? Would it hurt her career to be involved with two men? Had she purposely made sure they could never find her? If she had anything aside from a cell phone—Toby and Lance didn’t—he had an idea it was probably unlisted.
He checked the phone book anyway. No Renee Swarovski, if he even had the spelling right. They’d simply have to wait and see if she showed up, and the fact that he might not ever see her again scared him shitless.
* * * *
Lance was still in the testing phase of developing his fertilizer, but he’d always planned on eventually selling the formula the way Toby had sold his video game. The notion of starting up his own company had never occurred to him, which wasn’t too surprising. After all, he didn’t know the first thing about hiring, firing, manufacturing, marketing, or distributing. The very idea made his head swim. But that was before he’d met Renee.
Toby had filled him in on her background, and that tiny seed had grown in his mind as though he’d poured gallons of his superfertilizer on it. Would she help him with it? Would she give up her job to run his company? Or would she tell him he was dreaming if he ever thought he could compete against the big guys?
Somehow, he didn’t think she would. He knew very little about running a company, but Renee did, and if her performance in the bedroom was any indication, she was the type who could cut through the bullshit with the best of them.
Unfortunately, bullshit was precisely what he had to deal with most days. Sighing, he picked up the sheaf of letters from dairy farmers asking for help in implementing well-meaning regulations that were totally impractical, like concrete feedlots that didn’t allow for runoff of rainwater. Mix that rain with manure, and it turned into a sloppy, slippery mess that was nearly impossible to manage, let alone keep clean. It was no wonder dairy farms were going bankrupt all over the country. Between the regulations and the cost of feed, making a profit was nearly impossible.
He leaned back in his chair, wishing he had the answers. His fertilizer was the solution to one problem in the farming industry—his organic formula broke down quickly enough that it didn’t pollute the soil or the water—but it didn’t solve all of them. He longed for the opportunity to do more research—something his job at the county extension office didn’t allow.
Although his primary work involved providing farmers with education on the latest techniques, more and more, the need to be on the cutting edge of research gnawed at him. He’d even thought about going back to school for a degree in chemical engineering. Toby had encouraged him to do it—had even offered to help foot the bill—but he’d never dreamed of taking him up on it. After all, it wasn’t as though they were married, no matter how much everyone seemed to think they were.
Perhaps it was different now that they were lovers…sort of. Renee had been the one to bring them together, but what if she never came back? He and Toby were already making plans for the following weekend. What if she didn’t show? Or simply dropped by to tell them she wouldn’t be able to stay?
Lance shuddered at the thought. Toby might’ve brought home the perfect woman, but she would have to find her own way back to them. And he was praying for her return. She’d gotten Lance and Toby to admit their feelings for each other and to take those feelings to the sexual level, but there was a hitch. He and Toby had tried going it alone, but by Wednesday night, they’d had to admit that without Renee, sex was a bust. Their friendship hadn’t suffered, but though they were able to continue living quite happily together, the spark they’d both felt in her presence was lacking. She had to come back. She simply had to.
* * * *
On Thursday evening, in preparation for their weekend with Renee, Lance and Toby went to the toy shop and bought some more goodies. The installation process was fun, and, thinking it might carry over into sex, Toby suggested they try out their new “furniture” to see if anything had changed.
It hadn’t.
Toby had stripped off his clothes and somehow managed to get his dick hard, but the unspoken need to wait for Renee made going through with it impossible. “Feels like we’re cheating on her, doesn’t it?”
Lance nodded. “I might be able to get it up if you put on a corset and whip my ass, but I doubt it.”
Toby took a deep breath. “You’ve been thinking the same thing I have, haven’t you?”
“That she might not come back? Oh, yeah. It would be so easy for her to go back to her routine and wonder what she was thinking to get mixed up with a couple of—” Lance broke off there, wincing as though it was too painful a thought to complete .
“Go ahead and say it. Perverts.” He hung his head. “I never thought of it that way, but that’s what we are. Sad, but true.”
And a woman like Renee wouldn’t risk her career for them.
No possible way…
* * * *
By week’s end, Renee was completely exhausted. The shit had hit the fan, and needless to say, George Muntan did not go quietly. Renee had never seen such ugliness firsthand before. The board was in an uproar, and it wouldn’t have surprised Renee to find that she and Brian had been fired along with George. Brian for letting it happen, and Renee for being the whistleblower. Although her job was safe for now, mainly because whistleblowers had some protection under the law, she hadn’t considered the possibility that Brian might be involved when she went after George. So far, nothing had been found to connect the two, but the suspicion remained.
All of this made continuing in her position that much more difficult, though, quite unexpectedly, she discovered that she had the support of the majority of the employees. Of course, their backing wouldn’t count for much if the board ever got wind of her two boyfriends. With that to use for ammunition, even if they couldn’t fire her because of her lifestyle, they’d find some other flimsy excuse to get rid of her.
Nothing had happened yet, but without allowing some time for the furor to die down, she was taking an awful risk going back to spend a weekend with Toby and Lance. However, as the week wore on and Friday approached, she found herself living for the moment when she could be with them. Their house was a retreat from the outside world, a safe haven where her business life didn’t intrude. Aside from Jackie, no one would know where she was unless she was followed, in which case anyone looking to dig up a little dirt on her would have a field day.
By Friday afternoon, the fear that Toby and Lance might not need her anymore hadn’t exactly disappeared, but the stress had worn her down to the point that she just plain didn’t care. Didn’t care if her career went down the tubes. Didn’t care what the board or anyone else thought of her two men. She needed them. And she needed them now.
Chapter Eleven
By five thirty, Toby had looked out the window at least ten times. And that was only since four o’clock.
“If she gets off at five, she probably won’t be here until at least six,” Lance said. “Maybe even seven.”
If she wasn’t there by eight, Toby wouldn’t have any fingernails left. Hell, by then, he might not have any fingers. “Think we ought to put the lasagna in the oven yet?”
“Sure. Go ahead. We’ll need dinner whether she comes or not.”
Toby wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat without h
er, but preheating the oven gave him something to do. Lance had only been home a few minutes. At least he’d had his work to occupy his mind. Toby had been chewing his nails all day long.
He’d even been afraid to leave the house in case Renee took the day off and arrived early, although she had said she would be there after work. With that in mind, he’d gone to the grocery that morning and spent the rest of the day cooking, cleaning, and straightening things until finally there was nothing left to do but sit and watch the driveway. Honest to God, it was worse than waiting for Santa or the Easter Bunny.
“Think she’ll like the new toys?”
“Yes,” Lance said patiently. “I’m sure she’ll like the toys.”
If she shows up. Those unspoken words hammered through Toby’s head with the force of a migraine. Considering the number of times he’d mentally slapped himself upside the head for not getting her phone number, it was no wonder he had a headache. He reminded himself that he’d thought she wouldn’t be waiting outside the toy shop for him, either.
But she had waited for him. Surely she wouldn’t back out on them now.
There were at least a dozen reasons for her to be late or not show up at all, and though he’d run through them a hundred times, he kept coming back to the belief that she wouldn’t do any of those things. Not to him, and not to Lance.
Or would she?
* * * *
Lance was doing his damnedest to be the voice of reason, but deep down, he was every bit as anxious as Toby. The fact that so much depended on what one woman did—or didn’t do—was downright scary. Plus, she had to make her choice without any urging from either of them whatsoever. Had they done enough to prove to her that they were meant for each other? Did she believe it? Did he even believe it himself?
The Sextet Presents... Small, Medium, and Large [A Toy Story] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) Page 8