Chapter 30
Alex
Stunned, I drop into my office chair, staring at the door and trying to understand what just happened.
I don’t want to see you anymore. Ever again.
Those were the words Beth just hurled at me, and their finality is staggering. She ignored my shouts and instead stormed out of the office in exactly the same way she'd burst in.
For a moment, I wondered what the purpose of her visit could have been.
Did she just want to vent her anger? At least, that's how it seemed. And yet, my thoughts are mainly on the movement of her curly hair as she vehemently shook her head. Then the next thought, like an express train, races through my mind: a vision of Beth, her cheeks flushed bright red. In this vision, however, she’s lying naked and sweaty beneath me on the couch, her mouth half-open and. ..
Shit, I can't indulge in these kinds of fantasies. I have to do something, because this whole thing stinks to high heaven.
Because it really wasn't me who hung up that poster. And I certainly didn't have her thrown out of her shop.
Why would I do something like that anyway?
With the shopping center deal and the exorbitant purchase price, I had gone way out on a limb for her, and the whole thing was meant as a surprise for Beth.
I wanted to set things right between us again, not make everything worse and have her think I want to destroy her for good.
Even if she doesn't believe me and never wants to see me again—and the thought causes me a deeply unpleasant pain—I have to at least clear this up.
I don't want her to think of me like that.
Even if I succeed, I don't know if we have a future.
But I have to try. For Beth. For her child.
And maybe—but only maybe, and only if she wants it: For us.
One thing is certain, though: Something is going on in my company that I don't know about.
And that's not good. Not good at all. I run through my mind who knew about the deal with the building complex on 4th Street and who has the authorization to negotiate a deal with her landlord in my name, a deal that presumably involved a considerable sum being offered to get him to throw Beth out.
Then it hits me like a ton of bricks, and I smack my palm against my forehead. Damn, how could I not have seen it before?
I may not have dementia, and I haven't been diagnosed with schizophrenia either, as Beth had suspected. But if ignorance is a disease, then I must have been infected to the highest degree, because...
I pause.
No, no jumping to conclusions. First, I'll make a few calls and do some digging, because I have to be absolutely sure before I do what I'm planning to do next.
"Boss?" I hear Eric's voice as he pokes his head through the door, and I look up.
"Yes?" I ask, giving him a piercing look.
"I'm sorry the lady burst in like that. I've already called the police and filed a report for trespassing...''
"Call them back immediately and withdraw the report," I snap. "I'll check on it myself later. And now, close the door and don't disturb me. I have work to do."
"Yes, sir," Eric says, pulling the door closed behind him.
Then I stand up, walk quietly to the door, make sure he's closed it properly, and lock it from the inside so that no one else can get in. Especially not Eric.
My fingers tremble with nervousness, because if my suspicion is confirmed, then... Damn, then I deserve an award for stupidity.
"Yeah? Is that you, boss?" I hear an older man's voice on the other end of the line after dialing a number I haven't called in a very long time.
"Richard, I've told you not to call me boss, you know that," I say, remembering the early days of my business and how I took over the first two locations of a rather run-down burger chain.
Richard was my very first employee. We did everything together: orders, human resources, expansion plans, you name it. Just everything.
He was my right-hand man, everything was perfect, but then he got sick. Seriously ill. He said the stress had worn him out and asked me for a transfer to accounting, which I reluctantly granted at the time.
But he blossomed there and got better. As the company grew, however, the lunches we had together became less and less frequent. Richard said it wouldn't look good if he ate with the boss. His colleagues would ask questions. So I left him alone as much as possible.
"I know, Alex," he said quietly, perhaps so the others wouldn't hear him. "What can I do for you?"
"You know a lot and know a lot of people in the company, and you know what's said in the hallways and..." I begin.
"You mean you want me to be your spy, Alex?" Richard asks, sounding less than thrilled.
"No, that's not what I mean. It's about a specific thing. Whether you've heard anything. Do you know about a work assignment for scaffolding and putting up a poster on 4th Street?"
"You mean I should look for invoices in the system?" Richard asks.
"No, I mean do you know anyone from the on-site team who might have been involved. I need to know who gave the order."
"Oh, that's what you mean," Richard says, sounding relieved. "Yeah, someone comes to mind. We don't have many people who would do something like that. I'll ask around and get back to you, okay?"
"Thanks, Richard. And we should go out to eat again sometime," I say, feeling guilty for not having been in touch for so long.
"It's all right, Alex. You know how it is: People talk about everything. And when an accountant goes to lunch with the boss, that raises questions, and I have to watch my blood pressure."
"It's good to have you in the company, Richard," I say, feeling a deep sense of gratitude toward him.
"I'll be in touch," Richard says again, about to hang up.
"One more thing, Richard. Only call my direct line. You know. The one I wrote down for you once. Not my assistant. This is very important, okay? Only talk to me personally about what you find out, okay?"
"Got it, boss," he says, and I can hear him grinning at the word boss. I'm about to say something back, but he's already hung up.
I pause for a moment, hoping Richard can actually find something out, and in the meantime, I open a program on the computer and dig through the digital files my company has on Beth's property.
As I do, my thoughts stray far too often to her and the way her eyes sparkle in the light of the setting sun, and I have to keep refocusing to stay on task.
Finally, I find what I'm looking for and see her landlord's number on the screen, which I immediately type into my phone.
"Keith here. Who's this?" I hear an older man's voice on the line.
"Mr. Keith. Hello, this is Alex Rodgers, I..."
"Oh, I know who you are," he says, suddenly sounding wide awake. "What else do you want? I did everything you wanted."
"Mr. Keith, this may sound strange, but I don't know what you mean. I'm just trying to find out what..."
"So you're saying the $100,000 in my account isn't from your company? Your... what was his name... That man, he told me he was calling on your behalf. As soon as the money was there, I was supposed to evict the poor woman with the flower shop and..."
"Do you know his name, this man?" I ask, feeling my heart pound in my chest, because I'm on the verge of figuring out what's going on here.
"He came to see me, you know? He was rather rude. And he was with that woman. That... oh, I'm so bad with names. She only said her first name. And his name was... Something with Final... Finn... Something like that."
"That helps me a lot, Mr. Keith. And don't worry, you can keep your money. But please rescind the eviction," I say, a sudden tightness constricting my chest. My suspicion is correct, and he's sitting right outside my door, because my assistant's name is Eric. Eric Finelly.
"But that makes no sense, Mr. Rodgers, I don't understand..."
"Neither do I, Mr. Keith. I'll put it in writing for you in the next few days. Don't worry. It's all right. You did nothing wrong. I, on the other hand, trusted someone I shouldn't have," I explain.
"All right, I'll wait for the document. I'm sure you understand," the old man says, and then we end the call.
My head is spinning as I jot down a note to draw up the document for him, wondering why and for how long Eric has been working against me instead of for me.
At least now it's clear who the leak is.
Even before he mentioned the fragmented last name, I basically knew, because besides me, no one in my company has such high-level authorization except Eric.
No one but the two of us can authorize a sum of $100,000 without triggering a complicated approval process.
That little bastard is actually using my company's money to hurt me. This isn't the act of a single, frustrated employee. There's more to it. Jake!
That has to be it, right? Was he the one who gave him the shopping mall plans? And is he the one who told him where Beth and I were having dinner, or who took the photo while Dilara was pressed up against me topless and...
The ringing of my phone makes me pause.
"Yes?" I ask as I pick up the receiver, seeing that it's the number from Richard in accounting that's calling me.
"Okay," he says, sounding a little out of breath.
"I don't know what's going on up there on the top floor, but the two men I trust said the order came from you.
Your assistant gave them the instructions, and they said he was with a woman he called Dilara when they met for the third time.
" Then Richard pauses. "Hey, didn't one of your former assistants have that name? "
"Richard, I don't know how to thank you.
Thank you," I say, feeling rage, despair, and sadness battling within me, each emotion vying for control.
I drum my fingers nervously on the desk, chewing on my lower lip and considering what to do now.
Does he already suspect something because I was so annoyed earlier and had him withdraw the complaint?
No, surely not, because I've been in a foul mood all week, which might actually play to my advantage now.
But what now? Should I call him in and confront him? No, he would surely deny it. Instead, I decide to catch him in the act, because with any luck, he'll also be on the hook for industrial espionage, and he doesn't deserve to just be fired by me. Not after what he's done to me.
But before I deal with that, I have to do something that's even more important: talk to Beth.
I have to tell her what I found out and hope she believes me. The whole thing sounds so absurd—I wouldn't believe it myself, and I rate my chances as slim as I pack up my things.
But I don't want to give up. I don't want to give up on Beth. On us.
"Do you have an appointment, boss?" Eric asks me as I open the door and walk past him with my bag packed.
"Private matter," I say, barely able to look him in the eye, knowing I can't take too long to bust him. Every day he spends here, he can harm me.
But Beth takes priority. She actually always has, ever since I met her. I just didn't want to admit it to myself.
Her words, that she never wants to see me again, echo in my head. Still, I hope she'll listen to me.
I can't give up on her. Because—damn it, I think I really love her!