Chapter 30
Chandler
I sipped on my coffee, staring across the hall at Gabriella’s office door.
It had been closed ever since I ran into her last week.
She was the last person I thought I would see here when I came in early after a sleepless night, but there she was in what looked to be her pajamas, her hair piled on her head in a messy bun.
She still looked aggravatingly sexy, but I ignored the thought and dismissed her quickly.
I was an asshole. I knew that. An even bigger asshole for treating her like that when she was pregnant with my kid, but it was for the best. The further I pushed her away, the further I would be from screwing everything up.
Greg was probably right about me. I would make the same mistakes as my father.
I would never admit that to him, though.
Ever since our disastrous family dinner, I had been keeping my distance from my family. I couldn’t handle any more motivational talks from Greg and didn’t want to put Nathan in the middle where he so often ended up. He didn’t deserve that, nor did he need it in his final semester of school.
And my mother…I was still irked over her jumping to conclusions and confronting Gabriella the way she did.
She had no right, no matter how much she thought she was trying to help.
Plus, I knew how disappointed she would be if I told her I didn’t want anything to do with the baby.
It dredged up too many bad memories. Too much of her painful past. I hoped one day she would understand I would be no good as a father, and that was why I decided to bolt.
What was best for everyone was to keep my distance from Gabriella, which was why when she said she wanted to work from home I fully supported it.
Of course, my email was a little less enthusiastic with a one-letter response.
It had been a week without her here, and every so often during the day when I looked up expecting to see her across the way, the closed wooden door of her office was a reminder she was gone.
It pissed me off that my feelings betrayed me by missing her smug expression looking back at me.
There was a knock at my door then, bringing my thoughts back to the present, where they had a difficult time staying as of late. I glanced up to see my accountant standing there hesitantly, his bald head glowing under the fluorescent lights of the hallway.
“Come in,” I said, waving him in.
He clutched his briefcase as he quickly walked into my office, looking for a place to sit.
I gestured to the armchair in front of my desk, which would be the obvious choice for someone with social skills.
I hadn’t hired him for his social skills, though.
I had hired him because he and his team of four other accountants knew numbers, and they knew them well.
“Thank you for meeting with me, Alan,” I said, watching him settle into the chair.
“Of course, Mr. White,” he said with a nod, as he glanced around the office.
“Please, Alan. You can call me Chandler. You’ve worked for me, for what? Seven years now?”
“Eight.”
“Exactly. Call me Chandler.”
“Right. Chandler,” he said, testing it out while also testing my patience.
“You’ve handled my business books and personal books for years, but I have a new giant I need you to take on,” I said, placing my palms on the desk. “Harold Enterprises.”
His eyes grew wide at the task I had propositioned him.
“Surely, there is a team of accountants here…” he said questioningly.
“Yes, but I think we need a fresh set of eyes on our books. I am in charge now, and I would like my own teams on certain things. I know you and your firm can handle it.”
“Of course we can.”
“Good. Then it’s settled. I want your firm to drop everything and set up camp here for as long as it takes for you to make sure everything is kosher in our books.”
“When?”
“Today,” I said, thinking it was obvious. I glanced at the clock above his shiny, bald head. “I’ll give you an hour to gather the troops and get back here. You can use the conference room for the time being.”
“Y-yes sir,” he said, picking up his brown leather briefcase and giving me a small salute before slipping out the door in a state of panic.
For being as painfully awkward as he was, it was a good thing he could balance my books expertly, making sure I held onto as much of my money as possible, and legally.
If anyone was going to find anything askew here, it would be him.
While I did have a team of accountants here at Harold Enterprises at my disposal, I didn’t really know them.
I trusted my people more. With Gabriella gone, I could bring in anyone I wanted without having to answer to her or offending her daddy’s prized company.
Without her here, I also actually had to focus on work and not trying to steal a moment where I could get in her pants.
In the end, look where that got us. It was boring, but productive.
I realized she had been a distraction, a fun one, but a distraction nonetheless.
It was the last thing I needed when taking over such a beast of a company.
It took only two days for my accounting team to come to me with a problem. A big one.
“What the hell do you mean an off-shore account?” I asked, my voice rising slightly as I looked at Alan shifting in his seat uncomfortably after delivering the bad news. It was a good thing my door was closed because I did not need this conversation getting out.
“That’s what it looks like to me at least,” said Alan, looking at his papers in his briefcase. “Somewhere in the Cayman Islands, according to these account numbers, though it will take a few more days to track the exact bank down.”
“What the fuck?” I muttered to myself. This was not what I had been expecting or wanting them to find when I brought in my accounting team.
I thought they would find a way to cut a few corners, pocket some more cash, bring up our numbers even more.
Finding fraudulent activity was a shitstorm I hadn’t expected.
“It looks like it’s been happening for quite some time,” said Alan, pushing a paper with numbers across the smooth surface of my desk.
I picked it up and ran my eyes over the black and white text, the numbers blurring together as my mind tried to piece together what the hell was happening.
There were too many commas and zeros in these figures.
It didn’t make any sense, especially if this had been happening for as long as he was implying. How had no one caught this?
“Someone has been skimming money each quarter from a restricted fund, when the amounts are bigger and it’s easier to overlook missing money.”
“Restricted fund…” I mused. “Like for non-profits or charities?”
“Precisely. One that’s easily overlooked with all the tax breaks and deductibles that go toward hosting big charity events.”
Like the two I had gone to in the past few months I had been working here.
“How much are we talking?” I asked, looking up from the paper.
Alan paused, as if wary to tell me.
“Alan,” I said firmly, knowing the look in his eye meant it was bad.
“Millions,” he said, his voice lowering.
“Millions total?” I said slowly. “Or…” I didn’t even want to think about the second option.
“Millions each quarter,” he said, chewing the inside of his cheek nervously and affirming the worst-case scenario.
“Who is doing this?”
“That’s the problem…”
“You don’t know?” I asked incredulously.
“The numbers change each time. There’s no way of easily tracking them to one person. Off-shore accounts are a different kind of headache compared to ours here in the states.”
“Jesus Christ,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose as I closed my eyes.
“Whoever is doing this knows what they’re doing, or someone has turned a blind eye to their dealings,” said Alan.
“Alan.” I narrowed my gaze. “I need you to keep this quiet. Do you understand?”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
“And keep looking,” I said dismissively. I didn’t think I could stomach any more bad news or nauseating dollar signs with the zeros that followed,
Alan took my cue, and gathered his papers.
He closed his briefcase and slipped out the door.
After he had shut it behind him, I slammed a fist on my desk, scattering its contents.
I had just opened a hell storm that, if it was as bad as Alan made it out to be, would require a full-on investigation.
It would be a huge scandal that the press would catch wind of and run with, creating an even bigger headache.
Almost, I wished I hadn’t hired my accounting team. Ignorance was bliss, right? But now I knew, and I had to decide how to proceed. This kind of secret could ruin a company. End it entirely. It would ruin me as the new CEO. I couldn’t go down with the ship, not after everything I had worked toward.
I would quit before I let that happen. My accounting team already had NDAs in place.
No one would ever know the real reason as to why I would leave such a prominent position.
It wouldn’t look good for me, but I would bounce back.
I’d find something new, and leave this shitstorm behind for someone else to figure out.
I wondered if that person would be Gabriella, who was so desperate to get her hands on the position that her father had supposedly promised her.
It didn’t feel right to put this on her.
Nor did it feel right turning my back on Mr. Harold and his legacy.
I hated the twinge of guilt I felt for even thinking about it.
I cared more about Mr. Harold than I would like to admit.
He had been nothing but good to me. He had put his faith in me, and fully supported my choices with his empire that was like a child to him.
To know someone was hiding in plain sight here in this office, and getting away with stealing large sums of money, pissed me off.
And I also cared more about Gabriella than I would like to admit.
Though we were on the outs and I was determined to push her away for her own good, she had opened up to me about how much this company meant to her.
I could see it in the way she spoke to the employees.
In the way she cared about them. Someone here had taken that kindness and betrayed her, and she had no idea.
This was exactly the reason why I didn’t trust people. It was better to keep them at arm's length or make them fear you because you never knew anyone’s true motives or intentions. Someone out there would always try to fuck you over, especially when it came to money.
I had to get to the bottom of this, not just to save the company and my ass, but to make sure the Harold name wasn’t tarnished.
I almost wished Gabriella was here to help me.
She would know better than anyone who might do something like this, but her life was stressful enough right now.
Plus, her emotions might get the best of her and she might do something stupid.
Right now, I needed to be smart because whoever was doing this knew what they were doing. But I didn’t plan on letting them get away with it much longer. Not on my watch.