Chapter 23 #2
He laughs and turns back to his food, but I guess it’s enough to break the ice with me because Armani jumps in right after and says, “I bet she’s thinking about how beautiful the showroom is now that she’s brilliantly rearranged it. Maybe plotting what to do next.”
Marco raises his glass. “Please, improve Dante next. His ego is intolerable lately.”
I look between the brothers. “I’m not ready for a project of that size. I think I’ll tackle something a little easier first.”
The men—besides Dante, of course—laugh and toast our little banter.
Marco sits back in his chair. “I have to admit, it is nice to have a pretty woman at the dinner table again.”
Armani and Dante shoot him a look. Ah, now here’s an opening I want in on.
I take a sip of wine and look directly at Marco. “Again?” I ask innocently.
There’s a pause as the brothers exchange a glance. Armani frowns at his youngest brother before putting on a tolerant smile, as if he’s going to placate me despite really not wanting to.
“Our mother and sister were lost at sea when we were young.”
My hand flies to cover my mouth. I wasn’t expecting this kind of answer at all. “I’m so sorry, I had no—”
Armani waves away my condolences. “It was a long time ago. We’ve worked through it, though our father never did. It…changed him. He became—”
Dante sets his fork down hard on his plate. “My wife doesn’t need to know the family sob story.” He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out his cell. It’s vibrating gently.
“Like it or not, I’m part of the Bellanti family now,” I say. I lean forward in my chair to address Armani quietly. “Really, I’d love to know as much about the family history as I can.”
Armani seems to soften. He looks like he’s about to speak again when Marco’s cell lets out a muffled ping next to his plate. Marco grabs it up, earning him a scowl from Armani, but the frown freezes on his face as his own phone starts vibrating.
“Excuse me,” Armani murmurs, turning away to look at his screen.
“What the fuck?” Dante pushes out of his chair, nearly toppling it. My heart sinks as the other men’s expressions go tight.
Just then, my phone goes off too. I don’t hesitate to pull it out of my pocket immediately and see what it is, but once I read the text from Greg, I wish I hadn’t.
There are hundreds of thousands of dollars in inventory missing.
Someone fucked up. Bad.
We leave dinner on the table and rush to the tasting room. I can hear Jessica screaming as soon as we step inside. She’s in the back with the employees, hollering at the top of her lungs. I only catch pieces of what’s she’s saying around the rush of blood in my ears.
“Liars…stealing from your employer…there will be legal consequences, for any and all of you involved, and you can be sure…”
Dante grabs Jessica by the arm and pulls her to the side, silencing her with a crushing look. Armani moves to one of the laptops and starts pulling up reports while Marco looks over his shoulder, lips pressed into a tense line.
I stand beside my husband as he begins, a bit more level-headedly, questioning the staff about what happened, thinly veiling his threats. They shuffle and look at the ground, intimidated by him, no doubt. But nobody has answers. Dante probably wouldn’t believe anything they have to say, anyway.
“I think I figured it out,” Armani says. “The wine wasn’t…stolen, exactly.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Dante asks. “Is it here, or is it not here?”
Armani brings the laptop over and shows him the screen. “It’s not here. It was sold—at the wrong price. Our seven-hundred-fifty-dollar bottles are coming up at the thirty-five dollar peach wine price. The wines were labeled with this barcode here, but it rings up at thirty-five.”
I can feel the blood drain from my face.
Dante taps the screen. “There are twenty bottles per case. How many were sold?”
“Forty-three cases.”
Jessica steps forward and glares at me. “That’s six hundred thousand dollars’ worth of wine. Sold for thirty-thousand.”
Dante nearly pulls the laptop from his brother’s hand, but Armani moves away. “It had to be that someone put the wrong barcodes on the wine and didn’t double-check how it rung up.”
Jessica is still glaring at me. My heart starts to race. In the echoing silence, Greg clears his throat.
“I had brought up the point before that the crates of the cheaper wine looked very similar to the luxury wine. Perhaps that caused some confusion.”
“Confusion?” Jessica cocks her head. “Someone didn’t do their job.” Stalking over to me, she pounces. “Weren’t you the one who put the barcodes on the crates?”
My legs feel like they can’t hold me. I look up at Dante by increments as my lips part and the words tumble out.
“Yes. I was in charge of labeling the bottles. I know they were correct, though.”
I run the scenario through my mind. The thing is, I did double-check the labels.
I did make sure they rang up at the right price.
I triple-checked. But the look on my husband’s face is so murderous, it will do no good to make excuses.
And I’m beyond embarrassed that this is happening in front of the entire staff.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Jessica hisses.
Before I can answer, Dante grabs my arm and leads me out of the room—but not before I catch the gleeful, smug look on Jessica’s face.
There’s no doubt in my mind: that bitch is behind this. I know those were the right labels on the wine. I’d bet my life on it.