Chapter 23 #2
“Same answer,” Tina said. “Whoever’s working. The register spits out a report telling us how much there is. As a backup, the checks are added up. The cash is added up. The numbers are compared to make sure.”
“And that gets done for certain?”
“It’s supposed to,” Chloe said. “Or we get in trouble.”
But then she and Tina and her mom all exchanged a long look. A long guilty look.
Bill groaned. “Oh, ladies.”
“Okay, so we don’t always check,” Tina admitted. “I trust the printout. I mean, a computer can’t add things up wrong, everyone knows that.”
“Me too,” her mom said softly. “I trusted the printout.”
Chloe winced. “And I guess this is where I admit I’ve never added it up, I just say I do.”
Bill put his heads into his hands. “Christ.”
Summer sighed. “So there’s no check and balance system?” She got a bunch of blank looks. “Okay, we’ll get back to how stupid that is in a minute. You fill out a deposit slip, right? Listing both the cash and the checks? So it’d be hard for someone to actually change the cash and the total, right?”
Another look between sisters.
Chloe studied the ceiling.
“Hello?” Summer said. “Anyone home?”
“I don’t always separate the numbers,” Tina admitted. “Sometimes I just put down the total, no breakdown of checks and cash.”
“Me too,” her mom said.
Chloe added a guilty shrug.
Bill just shook his head.
Summer sighed. “So the deposit is taken to the bank, by whoever’s available, without a breakdown of cash and checks, and then credited to the account.
You all realize there’s only about four different places where it can go wrong, where the cash can be separated from the checks without a system in place to stop that from happening. ”
“How many discrepancies did you find?” Bill asked quietly.
“Three hundred and fifty dollars for this first half of the month alone,” Summer said. “And I’d be willing to bet this problem goes back a while, so three hundred and fifty bucks minimum a month for all the years in business… We need to check it out.”
Tina’s frowned deepened. “On the computer?”
“I can try to do it, but I’ll need help.”
Tina bit her lower lip. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Summer’s mother shocked Summer by squeezing her hand. “I’ll help.”
Joe spent a long, seriously frustrating day spinning his wheels.
He’d tried to go into work against the wishes of his doctor and therapist, and before he’d even left the boat, he’d managed to trip over Ashes on the upper deck, lose a crutch into the water, and nearly himself while he was at it, and by the end of the day was so damned sick and tired of being sick and tired.
He went to bed, frustrated and edgy.
Hours later, Summer came to him, appearing in the doorway between the galley and his bedroom. The moon was high, the water quiet. Wordlessly she moved closer and stood at the foot of the bed, slowly letting the straps of one of those gauzy sundresses he loved so much fall off her shoulders.
“Any more texts?” he asked, just for something to do with his mouth rather than drool.
“No,” she said to the same question he’d asked her every single day, and began working on the long row of tiny buttons down the front of her dress. One, two.
She exposed a strip of smooth flesh.
“Uh…” His brain skipped. “Anyone with a size eleven-and-a-half shoe and a gallon of gasoline present himself recently?”
“Not exactly.”
“What exactly?”
“I’ll get to that in a minute.” Three buttons. Four. She wasn’t wearing a bra. The material slipped but clung stubbornly to her nipples.
His thoughts slipped as well.
Five buttons. Six. Their eyes met. In hers was a need, a hunger, and a deep, unwavering affection that turned his heart on its side.
Her belly button ring gleamed in the moonlight, and he groaned as the material finally fell to her waist. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and as her hands lifted to cup her bared breasts, he stopped breathing.
Seven buttons. Eight. The material dropped to her hips, full and curvy and perfect for holding on to.
“Red.” His voice was rough and serrated to his own ears. “You’re not wearing anything beneath that dress.”
She lifted her gaze and unerringly met his in the dark. “Not a damned thing.”
And she let it fall.
She moved then, putting a knee on the bed, crawling slowly up his body until she sat astride his hips. “How was your day?” she asked as if they were having tea.
His hands came up and cupped her breasts. Her nipples beaded in his palms. “Sucked until now.”
Her head fell back. “Mine too. We found some discrepancies in Creative Interiors’s accounting.” Then she scooted aside to tug the sheet off him.
“What do you mean, discrepancies?” He wore only a pair of running shorts. Tented running shorts. She toyed with the elastic waistband.
“There’s some issues with the receivables,” she finally said, her fingers making him twitch.
“Issues?” It was getting to be a struggle to keep track of this conversation.
“The amount of money deposited into the bank doesn’t always match what was put in the register.” She tugged his shorts down. With a little hum low in her throat, she wrapped her fingers around him.
“Red.” He groaned, arching his hips helplessly. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”
“So am I.” She stroked long and slow, the way she’d learned he liked it, then reached into the drawer of his nightstand for a condom.
“How much money is missing?” he asked.
“Don’t know yet.”
“Who—” He broke off as she tore the packet open with her teeth and protected them both, taking her time about it too, dawdling with her fingers. “Jesus. Who had access to the account?”
“Everyone.” She surged up and sank down on him, drawing him into her body to the hilt.
He swore, gripping her hips, gritting his teeth not to lose it at the feel of her, hot and wet, surrounding him. “Don’t move,” he begged, holding her still. “God, don’t move.”
“I can’t help it.” She wriggled, then ran her hands up his arms until their fingers were entwined on either side of his head. Leaning down, she kissed him softly, deeply, and his heart tumbled. “You feel so good, Joe. So damned good.”
He pulled his hands free and rolled them, tucking her beneath him, flexing his hips, pressing her into the mattress, thrusting in deep. “And how do you feel?”
Arching into him, she wrapped her legs around his hips. “When I’m with you? Like I could walk on air.”
As far as declarations of feelings went, it was a doozy. And it took him right over the edge. He made sure he took her with him.
An hour later, he lay sprawled on his back, Summer snuggled up to his side, the cool night air drifting over their nude, still sweaty bodies.
Ashes had joined them and lay at their feet.
Summer was lazily trailing a finger over Joe’s chest, occasionally tweaking his chest hair. He loved the way she touched him. He loved the way she panted his name when he was buried deep within her. He loved the way her smile lit up his life. And he loved how he felt when he was with her.
She shifted a little closer, cruising her mouth up his throat. Life didn’t get better than this, he thought.
“Your foot is doing good,” she murmured. “Isn’t it?”
Sure, unless he stood on it for more than sixty seconds. “If you’re worried, you can pamper me anytime. All the time.” He lifted his head and propped it up with a hand. “Move in with me.”
Her fingers went still on him. It was dark but he sensed the rest of her going just as still. “Or is that too involved with the future, which you don’t do.”
“You know I’m leaving.” She pulled away from him. “You’ve known all along.”
He reached out and flicked on the bedside lamp. “You said you’d come back this time.”
She blinked like an owl and sat up, curling her arms around her legs. A defensive, closed-off pose. “Here and there.”
Here and there. Christ. “I thought maybe, given all we’ve come to mean to each other, you could use San Diego as your base. Instead of San Francisco.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m still gone more than I’m around.”
“I’m not asking you to change your job, Red.”
“No, you’re only asking me to change my life.”
“I love you. And goddamnit, I think you love me back.”
She said nothing, just stared at him.
And though his heart cracked and separated into a million pieces within his chest, he let out a low laugh. “Okay, maybe you don’t.”
“Can’t.”
“Won’t.”
She tightened her mouth and looked at Ashes asleep at the foot of the bed. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Something you apparently can’t give me,” he said softly, feeling destroyed. He grabbed his shorts. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I let you think I could pull this off. That I could have a casual relationship with you and then let you walk away.”
“No.” Her voice was thick. “Remember in the beginning? You told me you couldn’t handle me walking away again. You wanted to stay away from me, but I wouldn’t let that happen. This is my fault, not yours.”
“Yeah, well, whoever’s fault it is doesn’t matter.” He felt raw. “I’ve gotta go.”
At the word “go,” Ashes leapt down, at the ready to follow him to the ends of the earth.
Joe stepped into his one shoe, grabbed his crutches.
“Joe, stop,” Summer protested. “This is your place. I’ll go.” She slipped into her sundress and sandals and then had to walk by him on her way to the door. She stopped to press her mouth to his.
He tasted lost dreams, broken hearts and tears, and he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t let her go. He snagged her hand, holding her to him.
She hesitated, then without looking back, pulled free.
“I don’t want you to be alone,” he said to her back.
“I’ll stay with Chloe.” And then she was gone.
Ashes sat on his good foot and whined softly.
“Yeah,” he murmured and stroked her head. “I know just how you feel.”