Chapter 17 Elijah
ELIJAH
“Buster, I heard everything you said but I understood none of it.”
“You’re killing me,” Buster sighs, leaning close to the camera. “This is why I should be CEO. Time for you to step down, old man.”
Leaning back in my chair, I stare out my hotel window and watch the world rush by.
A patch of ice several feet below has become a rapid source of amusement as person after person thinks they can walk right over it.
Nine times out of ten, they have to clutch onto the lamppost and that one time someone falls is a highlight of my morning.
I’m a terrible person.
“So, you’re staging a coup?” I glance back at our web call.
“Yup.” Buster smacks his lips together. “At least I’m telling you to your face and not forcing you out.”
“Whatever will I do?”
“Take up golf.”
“I hate golf.”
“Become a masseuse, I don’t fucking know. All I know is I’m getting my condo back.”
“You never lost your condo.” I snort. “In fact, didn’t you just buy a beach house?”
Buster’s smile widens. “I did! Hmm. If I want to spend time there, maybe I shouldn’t be CEO. Who has time for all that?”
“Not you.”
“Exactly. I’ll pause the coup for now.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Anyway,” Buster sighs. “I don’t want to point fingers, but Angelic Jewels has a serious problem. Fraud.”
The big F word. The one thing that throws a wrench into my plans. “Can you tell me who?”
“What, you want me to do all the work?” Buster scoffs. “You’ve got purchases that aren’t matching with inventory, sales that don’t make it into the yearly figures, and I found this.” He slaps a sheet of paper over the camera, turning the whole screen black.
“Buster.”
“What?”
“You realize I can’t see shit.”
“What? Oh.” A short, sharp bark of laughter follows as he removes the sheet.
“I’ll email it to you. Anyway, back at Halloween, I found a purchase order for two thousand Amber pumpkin earrings.
But those earrings never made it into stock.
I checked to see if they were damaged and written off or even added as credit from the supplier, but no, they vanished. ”
“Your theory?”
“I bet they arrived and whoever had them swiped them and sold them at a markup elsewhere.”
My teeth sink lightly into my cheek. “We’d notice, though, right? Where could someone sell them to make a cut and not get caught?”
“Black market. You’ve no idea how much someone on the black market would pay for jewelry of that quality. Mostly, they melt it down for the stones, but the market’s there.”
“So someone uses company funds to buy up stock that never makes it to inventory, makes a buck off resale, and no one finds out?”
“You have to find out who, or we’ll be pouring money into a project that’s lining some thief’s pockets.”
“Thanks, Buster, I’ll look into it.”
“Gotcha. And remember, that coup is only on hold so the second I see something I don’t like?”
“You’ll take my job and my livelihood and I’ll spend the next decade shamed on the cover of Financial Weekly. I get it.”
“Take care.”
Buster’s laugh echoes in my mind as the call ends, and it lasts with me all the way down to the car.
He’s brought forward a really serious matter and technically, I should get the rest of my team involved for a serious investigation.
But the last thing I want to do is start this acquisition off with such an invasive investigation.
Not only will it create bad blood, but the moment the world finds out that I, Elijah Baird, couldn’t trust his own instincts, I’ll be done for.
I need to try and sort this myself.
The drive to the Angelic Jewels offices only takes twenty minutes, but the offices I pass when I arrive are all empty, row upon row of empty cubicles and open office doors with abandoned desks.
My rising curiosity about where the hell everyone is gets answered as I reach the top floor and find the entire office staff crammed into the single conference room.
A meeting? Jimmy’s supposed to tell me about all the meetings.
Adjusting my tie to rest looser around my neck, I slip in through the glass door and draw a few curious glances from bored staff members while Jimmy’s dull voice drones on at the front of the room.
“Valentine’s Day is a little over a month away, so you know what that means!
Husbands will be buying expensive gifts to make up for a year of neglect, people will be buying engagement rings for the perfect proposal, single women will be buying jewelry to make themselves feel better about their lonely existence. ”
An uncomfortable murmur rolls through the group while Jimmy laughs hoarsely.
I scan the crowd and then, in the sea of brown and blonde, I spot her.
Calliope. She sits with her eyes forward, one leg crossed over the other and her straight, dark hair tucked behind one ear.
A notepad rests on her thigh, and she scribbles notes down without even looking, although I can’t imagine Jimmy is saying anything worthy of note-taking.
A subtle wince passes over her beautiful features as Jimmy starts talking again, and she lightly drums her pen against the notepad.
Pen and paper. Old school.
Ever since the kiss, I’ve been eager to reach out to her, but my cheek still stings from her slap. That was a pretty clear message to stay away, but I’m not sure how long I can keep that up for. I lost her for six, almost seven years. I don’t want to miss another opportunity.
“—so I want you to sell, sell, sell! Anything pink and sparkly goes to the girls. I want those rings front and center in the window displays, and make sure we include a placard highlighting the two-for-one deal. Nothing quite like a boyfriend with a knack for…” He raises his fists and boxes the air.
“Desperate for an apology gift that swears he won’t do it again. ”
Calliope’s face warps into open disgust while Jimmy laughs heartily, and I make a mental note for Buster to check Jimmy’s contract. If there’s a way I can let him go without making a fuss, I’m taking it.
“Anyway,” Jimmy sighs, snipping sharply. “Any questions?” Hands go up and Jimmy scowls deeply. The hands go down. “Great. Get to work! I want our warehouses empty by Valentine’s, you understand? Empty! Not a pink heart in sight!”
A collective sigh moves through the staff as they all rise and one by one, start to filter out of the conference room.
There are a few curious glances sent my way, but my focus is on Calliope.
This might be the perfect time to catch her attention and speak to her if it happens naturally, like in the elevator.
Just as I spot her, Jimmy materializes out of the crowd and stands right in front of me, sniffing like he’s battling a non-existent cold.
“What can I do for you, Eli?” he asks.
“It’s Elijah,” I reply coldly. The moment I glance down at him is the moment I lose Calliope in the crowd. By the time I spot her again, she’s in the hall near the elevators in deep conversation with that woman, Victoria.
Damn it.
“Elijah, whatever.” Jimmy sniffs. “Walk with me. I’m a busy man.”
An arrogant one, for sure. Casting thoughts of Calliope aside, I fall into step beside Jimmy as he heads back to his office.
“Say, what happened to your head?” Jimmy taps his own temple then points to me. “Drunk night?”
I lift my hand and tenderly touch the healing cut from where Calliope smacked me with the crown.
The butterfly stitches have since come off, and it’s healing nicely, with only minimal pain when I go running, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.
Telling Jimmy the truth doesn’t feel like the right thing to do, so I quickly spin a lie.
“A working out accident.”
“A what?” Jimmy snorts, reaching for the door to his office. “How the hell did you manage that?”
“Well, you work out, I’m sure,” I say, barely cloaking my sarcasm. “It’s dangerous.”
“Oh, sure,” Jimmy agrees hastily. “But I ain’t ever been stupid enough to injure myself.” He strides across his office and sinks into the leather chair behind his desk with a creak of springs and the slightest squeak of strained metal.
“Just pull-ups. Didn’t angle my head correctly and hit the bar,” I reply, closing the door behind me.
“Ah. You see, it’s all in the angle of the neck. If you align yourself just right, you’ll never have that issue. Maybe you should practice more,” Jimmy replies, sniffing aggressively as he smirks at me.
Work out advice from a man with a swollen, drunk belly, thinning hair, and a sniffing habit that tells me he spent far too many years snorting something he shouldn’t.
I’ll pass.
Still, I smile politely as I drop into the chair across from his desk. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”
“You ever need advice, you just call me.” He grins toothily and clasps his hands together. “So, what can I do for you?”
“You didn’t tell me there would be a meeting.” Our eyes meet, and I keep my expression pleasant. “What happened?”
“Oh, that?” He jerks his thumb toward the wall, like an invisible arrow toward the conference room. “That wasn’t a meeting.”
“Looked like one.”
“Nah. Just a pep talk, y’know? Between you and me…
” He leans forward against his desk. “Some of the sad folk around here get a bit weepy about Valentine’s Day.
Being unattractive and alone is a big problem for these people.
So I throw them a bone. Bury them in work and they don’t have time to be sad! ”
I can’t tell if he genuinely believes that or if he’s just talking out of his ass. Either way, I don’t believe it for a second. Still, to keep things light, I offer a dry laugh that he then reacts to with a bigger laugh of his own.
“You know what I’m talking about.” He grins. “The little people get too caught up in their shitty lives, so it’s my job to make sure they don’t have space or time to think about anything other than doing a great job. And it shows, doesn’t it? Else you wouldn’t be here.”
“You know why I’m here,” I reply coolly. “The subscription service.”
Jimmy’s face falls. “Aye, that shit. Confuses me why you even care. Maybe you haven’t spent enough time at our stores.”
“I’m always happy for a tour.”
Jimmy snaps his fingers. “I’ll get on that!”
“Actually…” I lean forward before he can pick up the phone on his desk. “As part of my inspection of stock quality and safety, I had a quick question.”
Jimmy abandons his reach for the phone. “Shoot.”
“Are the stores responsible for ordering their own stock?”
“No. Orders are in house, right here.” He taps his desk with two fingers.
“Is that the same for stock that goes to the warehouse?”
“Mmhmm.” His eyes narrow. “Why?”
“Does it get complicated, having stock here and stock at the warehouse?”
“Sometimes. I’ve told that woman, Cal, time and time again that having stock here is a waste of time, but she never listens.” He rolls his eyes. “Women, eh?”
“I thought having stock here was your idea.”
“Me? Who the hell told you that?”
The sudden flash of anger in his eyes has me swallowing that question quickly.
“Never mind. Among your employees, is there anyone who handles all the stock? Even if it’s just momentarily, is there anyone who handles stock here and at the warehouse and the stores?
” Given what Buster’s found, someone capable of buying and stealing stock would never have easy access to all routes.
Jimmy frowns and I can almost see the cogs turning behind his eyes. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so—” He cuts himself off suddenly and smirks. “No, wait, there is someone.”
“Who?”
“Cal. She’s got her finger in every pie we have.”