Chapter 20
Whitney
“Whitney.” Theo says my name in such a way that has me freezing on the spot. I’ve never heard him say my name like that—granted, we’ve only known each other a while, but it’s so jarring that it has me halting in my place.
My hand is midway into the bag of chips on my desk.
I tilt my head to see him better, and my stomach tightens when I see the steely expression he’s giving me.
He’s standing just a few feet away from my desk, his hands stuck in his pockets.
He must’ve shrugged out of his suit jacket, since all he’s wearing now is the charcoal gray vest and his dark violet tie.
Out of my peripheral vision, I see Chase walk up to the threshold of the office and lean against the door frame.
The two of them have been holed up in Theo’s office for the better part of two hours.
I didn’t dare interrupt based on the way Chase’s face was set into a grim line when he arrived today.
He and Theo obviously had something important to discuss—probably whatever he came tearing into the office about last week—which I doubted had anything to do with me.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask Theo, finally finding my words.
He takes a deep breath and exhales it sharply through his nose, the movement making his shoulders rise and fall dramatically. “No, can you step into the office for a few minutes?”
I glance at the clock on my computer, noting there’s only a half hour before our workday ends.
There is still something so completely off about Theo right now.
He isn’t the fun, easygoing man I’ve gotten the pleasure to know over the last few weeks.
Something about that fact has me on edge, which is ridiculous in its own right.
I’ve worked with Theo when he’s had his CEO hat on, and yet, the deep set of his brows and the way his lips are pulled into a firm line has me thinking this is a different matter altogether.
Carefully, I roll my chair away from my desk, stand up, and brush off my skirt. Theo tilts his head toward his office door, and I fall in line. My heel clicks against the floor as I walk into his office, following after Chase.
Theo closes the door behind us and then strides over to his desk, taking his seat and folding his hands on top of the mess of documents and notes strewn across his workspace.
A sick feeling settles in my gut, making me feel nauseous. Am I about to get reprimanded for something? Did I do something wrong? Has someone found out about our relationship?
Did someone hear about what Theo did to me in the office at the satellite property yesterday?
Surely it can’t be that—why would his brother be here for that of all reasons?
“What’s going on?” I finally get the gall to ask.
Theo studies my face for a moment with a tight expression. “Maybe you should sit.”
My heart thunders in my chest but I do as he asks, sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk and crossing my ankles together. My hands fold in my lap and I clutch my fingers tightly together. I feel frazzled, every nerve ending buzzing with adrenaline.
By the firm set frown on Theo’s face, I can tell he’d rather be anywhere else but here. He exhales sharply before he leans back in his chair and motions to his brother. “Chase found something that I believe you need to be aware of.”
Chase gives his brother a scathing look, not too pleased to have to be the one to introduce whatever we’re discussing.
Chase looks at me with his kind, brown eyes—so similar to Theo’s—and gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Theo brought me on as CFO and requested my help sorting through some of these financial statements from the last few years.
I nod my head. I already knew this.
“There were a few items that left question marks when I was going through it the first time,” Theo adds. “A couple of red flags. But I’m not good at the numbers, so I wanted Chase to look them over.”
I frown, still not completely understanding what this has to do with me. Theo and Chase share a look, and then Theo continues, though his expression is resigned.
“It appears that the reported numbers versus the listing and selling prices on quite a few properties are not balancing,” he explains.
I blink a few times, trying to make sense of what this means.
“There are a number of commercial properties that sold for significantly higher amounts than what was reported, which means there is a large amount of money that is now missing.”
“Someone stole from the company?” I ask, just to clarify. Theo is watching me closely, but he nods his head. “Do you know who it is?”
His jaw ticks, and he takes a moment to answer, but finally, he says, “Yes, we have our suspicions.”
I stare at him expectantly. When he doesn’t give me anything else, I feel the need to prompt him again. “Well, who is it?”
Theo closes his eyes and bows his head. I find myself wondering what is wrong with him. He’s never acted this strangely before. Usually, Theo is all business and can cut straight to the chase without any additional fanfare.
Long after the air in the room has grown thick, Theo looks up again at me. Fear laces through me at the look of pain in his eyes. My mind starts reeling as I run through worst-case scenarios, preparing for the worst. I’m not about to be accused of stealing, am I?
“Whitney—” his voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “I want to be honest with you, always. Even if it’s something that I know you don’t want to hear.”
Number 2: Honesty
My stomach rolls as I gauge his facial expressions.
I can see this is paining him a lot, which makes the anticipation of what he’s about to say so much worse.
Theo braces himself, squares his shoulders, and then delivers the blow.
“We suspect that Vance Peterson was listing properties for significantly higher amounts than he was reporting to the company. And then pocketing the difference.”
The floor seems to fall out from under me; my ankles go weak, toppling me over in my seat and I put my hand out to brace myself from falling sideways. My head spins, and blood rushes through my ears as Theo’s words play on repeat through my mind, jumbled and disorganized.
Vance Peterson—Listing properties—Higher amounts—Pocketing the difference.
My lungs struggle to take in enough oxygen, and I clutch at my chest, trying to force my brain to regain my normal breathing pattern.
Vaguely, I recognize that Chase and Theo have moved to crouch on either side of me.
A hand runs down my spine until it rests against the small of my back. I suspect it’s Theo.
I blink a few times, still unable to focus on my surroundings, reeling in the aftermath of the shots Theo fired at me.
This can’t be true.
He wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
Flashes of growing up with Mr. Peterson explode behind my eyes, and it makes everything worse. I can see his kind face, the way he would toss his head back and laugh. I can feel his comforting arms wrapping around me and giving me the kind of hug only a protective parent knows how to give.
And to find out that he was not the man I thought he was? Devastating.
“Mr.—Mr. Peterson?” I finally choke out.
Theo’s left hand applies pressure to my lower back.
I realize he’s come to kneel by my side.
I didn’t even see him move but now that he’s near, it provides a hint of comfort.
The fingers on his right hand catch under my chin, and he draws my eyes to him.
His eyes bring a sense of ease, as though I’ve found myself in the eye of the storm.
Everything stills around me as I stare into his warm, brown eyes.
He searches my face and then releases me before drawing me into his arms and holding me close. I bury my face against his chest and squeeze my eyes shut, willing the memories to stop rolling through my mind.
Theo’s hand cups my head. His chest rumbles as he says something to his brother. Distantly, I hear the familiar click of his office door closing.
Theo holds me for longer than I can measure, and I clutch myself to him desperately. My mind buzzes, but I hold onto Theo as if he’s the only thing keeping me grounded.
I finally gather the energy to push myself up until I’m standing. I still feel hazy, like my head is full of cotton or I’m running in slow motion. “I think I need to—” I shake my head, trying to alleviate the echo the sound of my own voice creates in my mind. “I need to go home.”
“Okay,” Theo says, reaching his hand out to me. A part of me knows the day is finished anyway, but it feels like a huge request. “I’ll call a car for you.”
I shake my head again. “I drove. I’ll just drive home.”
“Whitney, please let me call a car.”
“No, I can drive.” I really just wanted to go down to my car, away from Theo, and cry.
“I don’t think that’s—”
“Theo,” I gasp. I want to scream at him to let me be, but I don't have the energy. Something in the way I speak his name has him stopping his protest. His shoulders drop, and he nods, defeated.
“Can I come over later? After you’ve had some time?”
I massage my fingertips into my temple, where I can feel the telltale throbbing of a headache coming on. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Please, Whitney.” Theo’s voice cracks again, and I close my eyes, feeling my chin waver.
“I just need to be alone for a little bit,” I say. When I look at him, he nods once and then takes a step back, letting me stand and move past him.
I don’t say another word as I walk out of his office and over to my desk to gather my things. My body feels numb, even as I take the elevator down to the parking garage. Thankfully, no one else steps on, which is a small miracle, given that it's the end of the workday.
When I get in my car, I fall against the seat and try to focus on my breathing.
In, out.
In, out.
I glance at the wall of the parking garage, first seeing the placard assigning my parking spot, and then look at the one next to it.
They haven’t changed it yet, surprisingly, and I wonder if this small detail has just fallen through the cracks.
Especially given that Theo is always driven to work, never driving himself.
Reserved for:
Vance Peterson
CEO, Nexus Realty Group
Like the straw that broke the camel’s back, this is what finally breaks me. I stare at his name and feel the tears start to roll down my cheeks.
How could he do this?
I want to scream. Theo has to be wrong. He didn’t know Mr. Peterson like I did. If he had, he wouldn’t have been able to accuse him of something of this magnitude.
But I don’t, and somewhere inside, I know Theo would never just tell me this unless he was sure. Unless the evidence was stacked.
But even then, that doesn’t make the hurt any less.
I sit in my car, staring at the sign until I know I have to leave. I want to curl up in my bed and wallow in this news. I think that’s the only way I’ll ever get past it.
My mind is still running through every interaction with Mr. Peterson that I can remember, looking for clues, hints—any sign that he might not have been as honest as he came off to be.
Does his wife know? Was she a part of this horrible embezzlement scheme? Or would she be just as shocked as I am to find out?
I can’t imagine she’d have any part in it. I can barely reconcile the idea that Mr. Peterson himself did. It’s like finding out your real knight in shining armor just turned out to be a loser in tinfoil.
Mr. Peterson saved me in more ways than I could have hoped for—taking me in when my mother died, helping me get started in online classes and getting a degree, and giving me a job and a home and a family when I had nothing.
This sense of betrayal hurts more than anything.
I want to melt away into nothingness so I don’t have to feel this pain.
When I miraculously make it home without crashing, I drop all of my things on the kitchen counter and go straight to my bedroom.
I take a quick shower and scrub at my crawling skin, not finding any type of relief.
Gathering my coziest pajamas, I crawl into bed and bury myself under the covers.
My head falls into my pillow, and for a second, I hope I can find some comfort.
But I don’t.
I don’t know if I ever will after this.