Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
HARRISON
“Harrison, honey, it’s so good to see you,” Rita says, wrapping me up in a warm hug.
I return the hug and kiss her cheek. “It’s good to see you as well. How are you?”
“Oh, you know, the usual.” She waves a hand in front of her as if to brush off her response. “What I really want to know is all about you and what you’ve been up to.”
Rita gives me a knowing look, one that says she’s not going to let me skate by with just perfunctory responses. She wants to know about Olive, and I’m not sure how much I want to tell her. My feelings are so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t even know what I feel half of the time.
I lead Rita to the elevator then down to the car, filling her in on my business trip and how things have been crazy at work. Keeping the conversation going in the direction of safe topics. I can tell she’s not happy with this line of discussion, but she doesn’t push.
Carl drops us off at Bridges, one of the best restaurants in the city. It’s Rita’s favorite place to have lunch so we have a standing reservation for our Thursday lunches. The hostess leads us to our usual table and leaves us with promises that our waiter will be with us shortly.
She’s barely walked out of earshot when Rita gives me a no-nonsense look. “Now, I want to know about Olive.”
“I don’t know what to tell you other than we are seeing each other.”
She lets out a little snort. “Well, that’s obvious. I want details, my boy. Details.”
I shake my head in exasperation. “I don’t know what details to give you.”
“I noticed she’s not sending me any more letters for her match.”
Both pleasure and guilt pool in my gut at that. Pleasure because I know Olive wants only me and guilt because I don’t know that I can give her what she so obviously wants. “She hasn’t written because she wrote her match telling him she found someone else.”
Rita’s eyes widen at that. “She did?”
I lick my lips feeling nervous for the first time in as long as I can remember. “Yes… she said she has feelings for another man and wants to see where it will lead her.”
“Interesting. And how do you feel about that?”
Thankfully the waiter chooses now to come and take our orders. It’s only a brief respite, but it’s enough to help me wrap my brain around what I want to say.
“So…” she says, letting me know she’s not going to let me off the hook I’m dangling on.
“Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about it. I don’t do relationships, and we both know that’s what Olive wants.”
“But it’s been weeks now, and you’re still seeing each other.”
I nod. “Yes, but we haven’t discussed where this is going or made any promises to each other.”
“How do you feel about her?”
“She gorgeous and funny. I enjoy spending time with her.”
“Is the sex good?” she asks as I take a drink of water. I choke on the water, drawing attention from everyone in the dining room.
“What the hell kind of question is that?” I finally ask once I’m done choking half to death.
“A reasonable one coming from a matchmaker, dear.”
I shake my head in exasperation. “The sex is fine.” I choose to answer her because I know she won’t let it drop otherwise. She’s like a dog with a bone when she gets something in her head.
“Just fine?”
“What do you want me to say? That it’s phenomenal? The best sex I’ve had in my life? That we can’t keep our hands off each other?”
Rita’s eyes twinkle, and she smiles widely. “That’s exactly what I want to hear. I knew you and Olive would be a perfect match.”
“What do you mean you knew we would be perfect?” I ask suspiciously.
She rolls her eyes. “Why else would I let you take her letters? Come on now, you had to know that I wouldn’t just let you take someone’s letters without a reason.”
She’s right. In the back of my mind, I’ve known from the start. I knew this was a setup, and yet I did nothing to stop it. In fact, I pursued it with a single-mindedness I’ve only had with work before now. I should be angry at my aunt meddling, but I’m not. What does that say?
This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about how easily Olive fits into my life.
If I could’ve picked a woman for me, someone like her would’ve been it.
I just never saw the point of having a relationship before.
All my past relationships, no matter how casual, they just weren’t worth the trouble. Olive isn’t any trouble at all.
In fact, the only trouble that I have is not having her with me every minute of the day.
I want more of her than my schedule allows.
My mind flits to the last two days when she brought lunch to my office.
Best lunches I’ve had since I opened my business ten years ago.
No one has ever been able to distract me from my work until Olive.
“It didn’t dawn on me that you would attempt to set me up since you know relationships are the furthest thing from my mind.”
Rita snorts a laugh. “You didn’t think your matchmaking aunt would ever matchmake for her favorite nephew?”
“Your only nephew,” I remind.
“Exactly,” she says, laughing. She sobers before asking if I’m happy.
“Yes,” I admit. And it’s true. I am happy with Olive. Am I sure of my feelings for her? Am I sure that I can make a relationship work? No, not at all. I’m just not built for relationships, but I’m going to try.
“Well, then, that’s all that matters.”
We finish lunch, and I drop her back at her office before heading back to work myself.
My office door is unlocked when I get back, which is odd since I keep it locked always. “Deb, did you go into my office while I was out?”
“No, Mr. James. I just got back from lunch myself.”
I brush it off, thinking that maybe I was just distracted as I left the office. It only takes thirty minutes of work for my mood to fall down to the gutter. The Billings account still isn’t straightened out like Sam promised. My desk phone rings, and I growl in frustration at the interruption.
“What,” I bark, instantly feeling bad when I realize it’s my assistant Deb.
“Sorry for bothering you, sir. Miss Trembolt is here to see you.”
I glance at my calendar and don’t see an appointment. I wipe my hand down my face, not wanting to deal with another problem today. “Send her in, Deb.”
Miss Trembolt walks in moments later. “Sorry to drop in, Mr. James. I know you’re busy, but this couldn’t wait.”
“It’s okay. What’s so important?”
She carries over a file folder and opens it, then lays it out on my desk in front of me. I look over the spreadsheet on top and look up at her in question before looking at the next page… and the next.
“What is this?”
She rubs her hands on her slacks as if she’s nervous to say what she came to say. “I think someone is embezzling money.”
I look over the documents again and can see exactly what she’s talking about. “How long has this been going on?”
She shakes her head uncertainly. “I’m not sure yet. I’ve gone back six months so far.”
“It looks like whoever is doing this has gotten sloppy recently.”
“Exactly,” she says.
“Who normally runs this report?”
“Vera, but she’s out sick today.”
My eyes narrow in on the dates and amounts. Over seven-hundred thousand dollars is unaccounted for on just this one report. “Who did you tell about this?”
“Just you, sir.”
“Let’s keep it that way. Keep digging for me. I want to know exactly what’s going on.”
“Yes, sir.”
She leaves the office, and I’m on the phone instantly with Sam. He enters my office ten minutes later, looking cockier than ever.
“We have a problem. Someone is embezzling money.”
He stops in his tracks, and a look of surprise covers his expression. “Impossible.”
I hold up the file for him to take. He looks it over quickly, his brows rising as he takes in the document. “How did this happen?” he asks.
Is it my imagination that Sam looks a little green around the gills? My eyes narrow, taking in his stance and expressions. Is that guilt I see or just concern that someone is siphoning off money from the business he’s put so much of his own time into?
He clears his throat, then asks, “Any idea who could’ve done this?”
“The information was just brought to my attention. Do you have any idea how something like this could happen?”
I’m asking because he’s in charge of accounting with Vera directly under him. I can’t see my best friend of years doing something like this… so that leaves the question of who.
“I’m not sure,” he says, loosening his tie. “I’ll look into it.”
“I appreciate it. I want to know where my money is going and who thought they would get away with stealing from me.”
I treat all my employees very well. I might be an arrogant ass, but I’m fair with my employees. They are all well compensated. Frustration suffuses my very bones, followed by anger. Someone got greedy, and I will find out who and why.
Sam leaves my office, and I pull up the spreadsheets from accounting and start to go through them, looking for any clues as to who could’ve done such a thing.