5 – AMBROSE
The last week has been jam-packed with fiscal meetings.
My head throbs with a vibrant reminder of the headache plaguing me throughout the day. A glance at the clock shows it’s already a little after four, and I want to leave early for a change.
Unfortunately, that’s not to be. As if I don’t have enough on my plate with my ex-wife, Lyndsey, blowing my phone up now I’m sitting in a meeting with Brynlee, who’s behaving like a bitch for only God knows what.
“This is the best strategy for the company, Ambrose. I wouldn’t advise you to move in this direction if I didn’t think it was advantageous for the company,” Brynlee says.
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my desk. “You’ve been with this company for one month, Bryn. You’ve tried to change everything about our operations in one month. We have a relationship with Brooks and Searcy that has worked for the last seven years. Why would we change that now?”
“I’ve been looking through the financial records, Ambrose, and there are several errors that the auditors have overlooked. If the feds were to come in and look at these books, though they’re not glaring errors, I assure you that they will find discrepancies that will raise concern,” she argues.
“And I’m telling you that I’m sure there’s a plausible explanation for what you’re finding. I saw the same thing that you saw. In the worst-case scenario, we’ll get penalized a small fine. That’s nothing compared to firing a company with an outstanding reputation and searching for a new one.”
She tosses papers on my desk. “Here are multiple RFPs from reputable auditing agencies that would love to take our account. Aside from those, I have connections at PWC, Deloitte, and Marcum. TT’s current auditing firm is unknown in that arena, but the company pays an astonishing sum to them to do shoddy work. I mean, come on, Ambrose. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear someone was cooking the books!” she hisses.
I sit back in my chair and cross my ankle over my knee. “You might want to watch your words, Ms. St. Clair . That’s a serious allegation.”
She sits back and glares at me. “If it’s that concerning to you, then I think you would want to investigate it, Mr. Charles. ”
“I have no need. I know this firm is reputable, and anytime a human is involved, there’s a chance for errors.”
She frowns at me. “Are you in on it? Are you benefiting from this collaboration?”
I walk around the desk, and she stands up, glaring at me. I tower over her five feet at six-two, but she doesn’t back down.
“I’m not intimidated by you.”
“You should be.”
Her chest rises and falls to a count of six times before she speaks.
“Why won’t you investigate the allegations?”
“Because I believe your claims are unfounded.”
“And I believe that you’re biased. What I want to know is why?”
“Is this another attempt to stop the staff cuts? Because if so, I can assure you that you’re wasting your time.”
“Maybe if you’d look further into this, you would see that our bottom line is healthier than you realize.”
“I know the bottom line is healthy. That’s not the point, but they expect it to improve by twenty percent.”
“If they’re following the auditors' suggestions, I understand why. It’s not the company I’m questioning, Ambrose; it’s the auditors. They are rumored to have mob connections.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “What’s wrong, Bryn? Too many late nights with Netflix or Crime TV?”
“Don’t worry about what I do with my nights,” she says, moving away from me and walking to the door, and I’m right on her ass.
“I once used to occupy your nights,” I whisper, standing closely behind her.
Brynlee tenses at my words. Inhaling her cinnamon scent, I wish that I could hold her again.
She spins around, glaring angrily at me. “That was a long time ago, Ambrose. I told you no more references to our past.”
“I don’t give a shit what you told me,” I rumble.
“I’m no longer that foolish girl you once played.”
She turns back toward the door, and I grab her hand. “I never meant to play you. I swear.”
Bryn jerks her hand free and turns again. “What is it that you want from me?”
“Forgive me. I fucked up, Bryn. I can’t take that back, although I wish I could. Fame, money, and all that shit went to my head. I never cheated on you. Not intentionally. There’s so much more to that story, but you never gave me a chance to explain. Being so far away from you...I lost my focus and trusted people I shouldn’t have.”
“Yeah, well, you lost me too,” she says, turning and storming out of my office.
I can only be pissed at myself. I’m the one who hurt her and turned her from the angel she once was to the bitter, closed-off woman she is today.
Pushing those thoughts from my mind, I return to my desk and grab the papers that she’d brought to my attention. I think about another meeting that I’ve accepted, and though reluctant to admit it, she does have good grounds for believing the company could have mob connections, directly or indirectly. I’m willing to investigate her claims even if I won’t admit it to her.
If everything falls down, the house of cards will fall around me. John Cape is no longer here to clean up the mess.
I sit back behind my desk and press a button on my phone.
“Hi, Mr. Charles.”
“Hi, Sandra. Would you please set up a meeting with Canton and Fischer?” I ask, referencing a reputable small auditing firm.
“Sure, Mr. Charles.”
Ending the call, I massage my temples and turn to my computer to begin responding to emails. I glance at the clock when someone knocks at my door. Just over an hour has passed. It’s after five, and Sandra’s gone for the day.
“Come in,” I grumble.
The door opens, and in storms, my sulking pre-teen, Cee-Cee.
“What a surprise,” I say, standing and glaring at her mother over her head while trying to maintain a smile on my lips.
“Mom has to work, so you’re in charge,” Cee-Cee says, plopping down on the couch.
“Oh, I am, am I?” I ask, walking to Cee-Cee.
I ruffle her mass of curls before kissing the top of her mop of curls as Lyndsey breezes through.
“I’m sorry, Ambrose, it couldn’t be helped. Phil McIntyre has a three-year endorsement deal offered by On 10 Fitness. Before Phil signs, I need to fly to Summer Cove, North Carolina, to meet with their owner, Bishop Lexington, and his executive team.”
“Honey, can you go grab you and me some snacks while Mom and I chat?” I ask thirteen-year-old Cee-Cee, handing her my card.
“Argue, you mean?” she asks, taking my card and slinking towards the door.
“We’re not going to argue,” Lyndsey lies.
“Sure, Mom, like you and Greg, don’t argue, or you and Colt don’t argue?” Cee-Cee says, smirking as she walks out of the door, slamming it behind her.
I wait until after the door closes to walk closer to Lyndsey so no one can hear me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Working.”
“Try that on someone else, Lyndsey. I’m tired of your bullshit. If you don’t have time for her or don’t want her anymore, just say that!”
“I won’t relinquish custody of my daughter to you! It’s bad enough that we have joint custody!”
“Bad enough? I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to Cee-Cee or you. Too bad you never realized it.”
“Is that what this is about? You’re missing me?” she says cheekily, crossing her arms.
“No. This is about you not respecting my time, schedule, or business. We have a custody arrangement in place for a reason, and I often take care of our daughter on your days. I can’t keep on moving like this, Lyndsey. I’m in a different place now with more responsibilities.”
“Are you saying that taking care of your daughter is too much for you?” she hisses through clenched teeth.
“No. I’m saying I’m sick and tired of your bullshit and taking on your responsibilities because you enjoy chasing young athletes around the country to slide your way into their bed.”
She steps closer and pats my cheek, and I grab her hand, tightening my grip on her wrist. “Jealousy doesn’t become you at all, Ambrose.”
“I need you to be a more responsible mother, Lyndsey! Cee-Cee told me that Garrett Rhodes and Van Lyons spent the night at your house. You know what she said? ‘Mom has all the coolest friends, Dad. They get to spend the night with us, too!’ Why the fuck does my thirteen-year-old daughter think it’s okay that different men are parading in and out of her home?”
“What I do in my personal time is none of your business, Ambrose! You left the marriage! You divorced me, not the other way around, so you don’t get to say anything about who I spend my free time with.”
“That’s the problem. It’s not your free time. It’s time that you should be spending with our daughter. It would be different if there was one steady person you were exposing her to.”
“Maybe if you were more worried about your personal life the way you are mine, you would have one.”
My fists clench at my side as I work hard to control my temper. My daughter is my world, and I want nothing more than to protect her from Lyndsey’s whorish, manipulative ways, but she has me in a box where Cee-Cee’s concerned. She always uses my love against me, and there’s not much I can do about that. If she needs me, I’m right there.
“This is the last time that you pull this off, Lyndsey. The next time, I’m returning to court and pursuing full custody.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she hisses at me.
“Just try me,” I snarl.
She jerks away and walks towards the door. “I’ll be back next weekend.”
I close my eyes as she jerks the door open, only to hear the voice that now haunts my dreams.
“I was just...hello,” Brynlee greets as my eyes fly open.
“Hello. Pretty little secretary, Ambrose,” Lyndsey says sassily, chuckling as she walks away.
The bitch. She knows exactly who Brynlee is, just as the look on Brynlee’s face confirms she remembers Lyndsey.
“Daddy, the vending machine broke,” Cee-Cee says.
Brynlee presses her lips together in a tight smile and holds a pack of cookies in the air, shaking them.
“Miss Brynlee to the rescue,” she says in a choked voice, holding up the cookies. “I found this one assaulting the vending machine. I wasn’t aware she belonged to you until she started storming this way. These belong to you,” she says, handing the cookies to Cee-Cee.
“Thanks.”
Brynlee nods and turns to walk out the door.
“Wait,” I say.
She pauses but doesn’t turn to look at me.
“Bryn,” I say softly.
“Yes.”
“Um...I want you to formally meet my daughter, Camryn Hope Charles.”
“Dad,” Cee-Cee whines. “It’s Cee-Cee,” my daughter says, rolling her eyes.
In her peach-colored, form-fitting dress, Brynlee turns and extends her hand. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, Miss Cee-Cee.”
Cee-Cee eyes Brynlee carefully and then me before turning back to Brynlee. “Are you my dad’s new girlfriend?”
“Cee-Cee!” I warn.
“No, sweetheart. Your dad is my brother’s best friend and now my boss,” she says simply.
“Oh,” Cee-Cee says, and I wonder at the disappointment in her voice.
“She’s beautiful,” Brynlee says, turning to me.
“Thank you.”
She looks at Cee-Cee for a long time before she says, “She looks just like you.”
I see the heartache in her eyes, and though I don’t regret my daughter, I regret the heartache I sent Brynlee through all those years ago.
“Who is she, Daddy?”
I turn to see my daughter watching me closely. Sighing, I walk to my desk and reply, “An old friend.”
“FWB?”
“What the hell do you know about that?”
“It’s what Mama and Greg and Mama and Colt are.”
Fury runs through my veins, and I shake my head. “You’re learning too much with your mother.”
Shrugging, she replies, “Gotta learn eventually.”
“Not that way. And no, she was...more than that.”
“You loved her?”
It’s not curiosity but hope in my daughter’s voice that makes me take the risk.
“Yeah.”
“She loved you?”
“Yeah.”
She smiles for the first time in a long time. “You deserve to be loved, Daddy.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I am.”
“Does she make you happy?”
“She does.”
“Then you should marry her.”
Laughing, I say, “I wish it were that easy.”
“It can be. You make everything else happen; make that happen.”
The logic of a child. If only.