The Red Diary

by Toni Blake

  Her mouth dropped open as her eyes went wide. "Sex slave?"

  "You've gotten bossy. No, like this. Do it faster. Let me on top."

  He accepted her playful slug, and they lay smiling lazily at one another when she said, "I've never had fun in bed with a man before."

  It caught him off guard, and he raised on one elbow to look down at her. "Really?" "I mean, fun like this. Fun like ... laughing."

  He tipped his head back in recognition. "Ah." He understood what she meant-he supposed he'd laughed in bed with a woman before, but maybe it hadn't felt ... genuine, easy, like this did.

  Just then, the white cat silently bounded up onto the bed. "Hey, Iz," Lauren said, scratching behind the cat's ear. Isadora walked across Nick's body, settling on the far side of him. curling into a warm ball. "You're such a slut, Izzy," Lauren said. He let out a laugh. "What?"

  "Listen to her, giving you her most seductive purr, and cuddling so close to you. She's had the hots for you from the beginning."

  "Guess you're lucky I chose you," he teased, lowering a kiss to Lauren's forehead. Then he flashed a grave expression. "You know what this means, don't you?"

  "What?"

  "You have to get up to order the pizza now, too. If I do it, I'll bother the cat."

  A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. "You're impossible. "

  Sitting up to ease across the bed, she reached for the phone, and he enjoyed the view as she placed the call, the phone cord twisting halfway around her bare torso.

  "Hope you like onions," she teased as she hung up, "since the procurer of the food gets to choose."

  "I don't like brie, but lucky for you, I'm easy when it comes to pizza. By the way," he added, "if the accounting gig ever falls through, I think you've got a future in nude modeling."

  "Is that so?" She struck a pose, more silly than sexy, then proceeded to her dresser, where she wiggled her ass at him while digging through a drawer. "Well," she said, slipping on a pair of small pink panties, "I'm afraid it's not likely, so you're the only one who gets the pleasure of seeing me."

  "Yep, guess your job is pretty secure."

  "My entire future, really." She threw a little sundress over her head, forgoing a bra. "All of my dad's interest in the company will be mine someday. That's why I'm involved in so much top-level stuff-Dad's never said so, but I know he's grooming me to take charge."

  As he absorbed the words, she covered her mouth and looked like she'd just uttered something blasphemous. "I'm sorry, Nick. I wasn't thinking. You probably don't want to hear about that part of my life."

  But to his surprise, it hadn't bothered him. Somewhere along the way, he'd quit resenting Lauren for having the life he thought should've been his. And if he'd never known her or Henry before any of this had started, he'd be damned impressed that she was going to run the Ash conglomerate one day. "It's okay," he said, absently stroking the cat at his side. "Really? Because I know how much it hurt you when-"

  "It's okay, Princess, really. It's your life. It's what happened. I don't blame you. I'm ... glad for you."

  As she came to the side of the bed and bent over him with a quick kiss that easily turned into more, he realized he truly meant what he'd just said. He was glad her life was good and her future set.

  When the doorbell interrupted their kisses, she broke away, scurrying from the room, her dress playing about her thighs. "Damn, Izzy," he said without really meaning to talk to the cat. Suddenly, an entirely new kind of guilt nagged at him. He'd not thought about the future fate of Ash Builders, of Lauren's lifelong connection to the company, when he'd decided to keep Phil's pilfering to himself. What Phil was doing to Henry, he was also doing to Lauren.

  "Shit," he muttered, disgusted. He had to tell her. A little over twenty-four hours after finding out, he already knew he couldn't keep it inside.

  Because he cared for her. He'd done his best not to care, not to let any of this mean anything. But suddenly, it was undeniable. Nothing else in the world could make him do something that would ultimately help Henry Ash.

  Resigned to giving up what only a day ago he'd seen as justice, he let out a sigh and thought, Now, how do I do it? How do I tell her? After all, he ácouldn't explain to her how he'd discovered Phil was cheating Ash Builders. As far as she knew. he'd never even been in her office, and he sure as hell wasn't ready to come that clean. He wished like hell he could tell her the whole truth, but she'd hate him. At least after he figured out how to tell her about Phil. part of his conscience would be clear. "Unbelievable," he said, gazing down at the cat. He'd finally found the justice he'd been waiting for his whole life ... and he was going to put an end to it, for Lauren Ash.

  They ate in bed, holding the pizza slices over the box to keep from dripping, although preventing Izzy from walking through it was more challenging. "If I find orange paw prints in this house, Isadora Ash," Lauren scolded, "you're in trouble.

  When they'd eaten their fill and set the pizza aside, a glance at the clock revealed it was after three. "So," she asked with a teasing grin, "up for a quickie?"

  He playfully chastised her. "Is sex all you ever think about?"

  She gave her head a provocative tilt and fluttered coy eyelashes. "Lately."

  More than lately, Nick thought. But, of course, he couldn't say that, couldn't allude to knowing her sexual fantasies in any other way than occasionally bringing one into bed with them. He'd almost feared what he'd done earlier in the pool would be too much, build her suspicions-yet he'd been unable to resist.

  "On the other hand," she said, "it's a beautiful day and tomorrow it's back to work for both of us, so maybe we should get outside, hit the beach."

  He would've loved nothing more than that, but he had a secret to tell. And what she'd just said was probably the best opening he'd get. Now that he'd made the decision to do this, he didn't want to put it off. "Speaking of work, I've seen the rest of your house, but I've never seen your office, even though I walk past the door all the time."

  She blinked, and he thought, Nice segue, Armstrong.

  "It's just an office," she said. "Desk, chair, computer. Nothing special."

  "I have a spare bedroom at my place," he told her, realizing he could make the truth work for him. "that I'm thinking of converting into an office for Horizon. I'm kind of interested in seeing somebody's home office, since I don't know what I'd need."

  "I could help you," she said instantly.

  And he thought, God, she s so sweet. "That'd be good." And it really would be, but right now, he had to concentrate on how to tell her a man she trusted was cheating her family business out of what likely added up to a lot of money. He hadn't even thought yet about how the news would affect her.

  "Come on," she said. "Let's go take a look."

  He took a deep breath as he rose from the bed, then pulled on his jeans and followed her down the hall, but knowing what awaited her inside her own office, and knowing he had to be the one to break it to her, suddenly made him feel a little sick. "This is it." She spread her arms, stopping in the middle of the room to face him.

  He looked around, taking in details, trying to pretend he'd never sat in the chair by the bookshelf or turned on the desk lamp. His eyes flickered across the spine of the red book and he made sure not to linger. "It's nice," he said. Cherry furniture with claw-footed legs, plus the burgundies and hunter greens, made the room seem the most formal in the house other than her sitting room downstairs.

  "I'd recommend a desk with more drawers," she said.

  Hers possessed only one flat pencil drawer. ''There's always junk you need to stow somewhere. And you'll definitely want a big filing cabinet since I'm sure you have a lot of paperwork."

  "Yeah," he said, watching her flit around the room to show him things, and feeling like even more of an ass because he couldn't tell her the truth without putting on a pretense.

  That was it he couldn't take this anymore. While Lauren talked about her computer, he took a step closer and leaned
over to look, purposely pressing his palm down on the stack of invoices he'd discovered yesterday.

  Then he glanced down and saw his name.

  He pulled his hand away, then studied the piece of paper, just as he had before.

  Move slow, don't react too fast. "What's wrong?" she asked. "This invoice."

  "What about it?" She glanced down. "Oh, it's yours." "No, that's just it. It's not."

  "What?" She raised her gaze. "What do you mean?" "Princess, this has my name on it, but it isn't mine. I turn in my invoices handwritten. I don't have a computer."

  "But then ... " She dropped her eyes to the paper again.

  He kept studying it, too. "These are my jobs from last week, but ... " he shook his head " ... these fees aren't right. They're too high."

  Lauren let out a huge breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She wasn't sure when the lump had formed in her throat, but she could barely speak around it. "Nick, just to clarify, are you saying this invoice isn't the invoice you turned in and that the amounts aren't the ones you turned in, either?"

  He gave a short nod, and she felt a little dizzy.

  "How the hell ... ?" She plopped into her leather desk chair, dumbfounded. "What does this mean?"

  Nick sighed above her. "I guess it means after I turned in my invoice, somebody changed it."

  Her mind spun, trying to put pieces together in her head that didn't fit. She had no other invoices of Nick's-they all went back to Phil after she keyed in the amounts and moved the money into the checking account. But she reached down to power up her computer, saying, "Let me show you some other numbers, from previous invoices. Do you think you'd recognize the amounts you billed over the last few weeks?" Her palms were sweating.

  "Maybe. I'm not sure."

  "Damn it, hurry up," she snapped at the computer as it blinked to life, her programs loading. She clicked into her payables file, then typed in Horizon Painters. A few more clicks and Nick's billing information for the past quarter appeared on the screen. "Here," she said, shaking now. "Do these numbers look right? Can you tell?'

  Eons passed as she awaited his response. "They seem too high," he finally said. He pointed to a couple of amounts in particular. "I don't remember exact figures, but I don't think I've ever gotten checks this big before."

  "Damn it!" She banged her palm on the desk. "Babe, you all right?"

  She got to her feet beside him. "No." Then she grabbed his hand and headed for the office door, pulling him behind. "Let's go."

  "Where?"

  "The Ash offices. It's Sunday afternoon-they'll be deserted. And I have to do some digging."

  As they headed toward the office in Nick's Jeep, Lauren found herself voicing her suspicions. She could only think of one person who could orchestrate this: Phil. "But that makes no sense," she said as Nick breezed through a yellow light. "He's a partner. Why would he steal from himself?"

  "How much of the company does he own?" ''Twenty - five percent."

  "How much does Henry own?"

  "Fifty-one." She bit her lip. "He never wanted to ... you know, give up control again."

  Nick just nodded, but his hands tensed on the steering wheel and she regretted the reminder. Why did she keep shoving his loss in his face, bringing up something that could stand between them?

  Finally, though, he said, "Maybe Phil doesn't see it as stealing from himself so much as shifting some of Henry's wealth his way. After all, he can never have as much as Henry does, right? No matter how hard he works or how well the company does. Maybe he resents that."

  Lauren took a deep breath. "Maybe," she said, figuring Nick knew a lot more about that kind of resentment than she did. It was difficult to believe, but after what she'd discovered about Phil just a few days ago ... well, he clearly wasn't the man she'd thought.

  When they arrived at the Ash Building, she sped up the steps, unlocked the front door, and made a beeline to Phil's office.

  Nick followed.

  "He doesn't lock it?" Nick asked as she rushed into the room.

  "Maybe he doesn't have a reason to," she said, trying to give Phil the benefit of the doubt.

  When she turned on Phil's computer, it asked for password, and she tried several that seemed logical, but none worked. Next, she searched for a paper trail, with Nick's help. After rifling through drawers and filing cabinets for a few minutes, Nick turned up his real invoice, saying, "Princess, take a look."

  She studied it, recalling older Horizon invoices that had appeared similar. In the same. pile, she found other invoices she didn't recognize, from drywallers, bricklayers, carpenters, electricians. And though she did recognize their names and logos, and even some of the jobs Ash had been paying on recently, the invoices were different; they'd been re-created before being passed to her.

  Yet not all of them had been faked, she discovered.

  Invoices from bigger companies-the national carpet chain they used, the large plumbing company that did most of their pipework-were untouched, untampered with. It was the smaller companies, like Nick's, that were being used to siphon money from the Ash accounts. And there were so very many of those smaller companies ... it boggled her mind to imagine the proportions this might take on.

  Thumbing through the invoices one by one, she began to feel dense. So many were handwritten, crumpled, smudged-they came from workmen who, like Nick, didn't sit at a computer all day, didn't have secretaries or assistants handling their billing. Why hadn't she noticed when those handwritten, crumpled invoices had stopped coming? Why hadn't she noticed they'd started looking neater, crisper, somewhere along the way? She felt like an idiot. And when she reached the last invoice in the pile, she gasped.

  "What is it?" Nick asked.

  It was an invoice from PH Construction. P.H. Phil Hudson. And she supposed the ungodly amount typed at the bottom, over twenty-five thousand dollars that particular week, equaled the difference between these real invoices and the phony ones he'd dropped off to Lauren. She shoved the piece of paper into Nick's hand.

  "Proof," she said.

  Nick had thought, more than once, that Lauren would break down, burst into tears, throw herself into his arms, but she never did. Instead, she'd known exactly what to do. She'd instructed him to load Phil's computer into his Jeep, and she'd taken the pile of legitimate invoices, too. Together, she'd said, it was all they'd need to nail Phil. "The invoice from PH Construction is where he really screwed up," she'd explained as they'd driven home. "There's no such company, at least not on our payroll. It's obviously a fake entity Phil uses to siphon the money to his own personal accounts."

  "But why go to all that trouble?" Nick had asked.

  "Why not just turn in the rest of the fake invoices and keep the leftover money?"

  "He has to have a paper trail that appears legitimate at a glance, needs to be able to account for all the money I issue to pay the subcontractors. His invoice totals need to balance with my mine. My breakdowns are the ones we really use, but he needs a way to drain the account of the excess I was putting in that would slide through without being noticed. Now that I have the two sets of invoices, though, including the bogus one, he's hung himself."

  "What now?" Nick asked. "I mean, what's next?" He'd never been involved in any kind of white-collar crime unless you counted what Henry had done to his dad, and he hadn't a clue how she would proceed.

  "I'll have to tell Dad. But he's out of town for the weekend, off on some tryst in the Caymans, so it'll have to wait until he's back."

  "When is that?"

  "Tomorrow morning." She turned to him in the Jeep.

  "The lucky thing is that tomorrow is Monday, and Phil spends Mondays visiting job sites, so he won't be in the office to see anything missing until Tuesday." She took a deep breath. 'That gives us a little more time to figure out what to do." Nick had been in awe of her strength. He knew it was hurting her, leaving her disillusioned, not to mention presenting a mountain of problems for her professionally, yet she'd handled it
exactly that way-like a pro.

  Now, night had fallen, and they lay on her couch watching the rented movie he'd suggested, thinking it might take her mind off things. Even before they'd started the video, she'd been uncharacteristically quiet, but he hadn't pressed her to talk. And since when was he so attuned to whether someone made conversation or not? Since when did he think about talking with a woman? Obvious. Since Lauren.

  If only I could tell you, baby, he thought, pulling her closer against him, that I know about your private diary. Then there'd be no more secrets at all. There'd still be Henry, of course, and there'd be enormous differences between their families, their money-God, probably a million other things-but at least there wouldn't be any more secrets. Still, he knew if he told her about the book, she'd never forgive him. She was probably the most understanding woman he'd ever met, but that kind of trespassing ... well, he couldn't think of much worse he could do to her.

  The sinking feeling in his stomach abated only when the cat jumped up onto the couch, distracting him. "Hey, Iz, come here," Lauren said quietly, pulling the white cat into her arms.

  But only seconds later, Izzy wriggled free and insistently wedged her way between the two of them, curling into Nick's lap. "See, what did I tell you?" Lauren said over her shoulder. "She's got it bad for you."

  He leaned down near her ear. "Jealous?"

  She turned to gaze up, wearing a small, wistful smile.

  "A little."

  He nudged the cat until she pounced to the carpet, then wrapped both arms around Lauren from behind. "Better?" This time when she turned, she smiled wider. "I hate to tell you this, but I meant I was jealous of you. Izzy hardly ever snuggles up to me like she does with you."

  A few days ago, that might've made him feel like a dope, but now he just teased her. "Maybe I should take off and let you and Izzy have the couch to yourselves."

  "Shut up," she whispered. "You're not going anywhere." She covered his arms with hers, and he settled back and tried to concentrate on the movie again, when Lauren suddenly spurted, "I just feel so incompetent!"