Billion Dollar Enemy 66
Her eyes soften. “You’re right. But I have to. I’ll… I’ll invite myself over tomorrow evening.”
“Anything you need, Skye.” I reluctantly pull my hand out from underneath hers. It’s late, and she has much to think about. She needs to call Karli. To process this. As much as I want to stay, it would be pushing things.
Skye reaches out to put a hand on my sleeve. “Wait. What happens next?”
And damn it, but I can’t help myself. I reach out and push a lock of her hair back behind her ears. Skye doesn’t seem to be breathing, looking up at me. “Invite Karli to my offices the day after tomorrow,” I say. “We’ll meet with my accountants and lawyers. Go over the bookkeeping in detail and work out a strategy for the bookstore going forward.”
Skye’s breath is shaky, and then she’s hugging me, her head against my neck. Slowly, I wrap my arms around her. She’s so warm. The scent of her hair is in my nostrils, the curve of her waist beneath my hands.
I don’t want to let her go.
“Thank you,” she murmurs. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
I touch my lips to her ear, unable to resist. “There’s no need to thank me, Skye. You did all of this yourself.”
My tone is warm. I wonder if she hears the truth, all the things I find myself wanting to say, and unable to bring myself to. Not yet.
“Not the plants,” she says, a smile in her voice.
She’s still in my arms. “Okay, so maybe I helped a little. But I’m the one who should apologize.”
She pulls away and I let her go reluctantly. There’s a smile on her lips. “I think we both should, but…”
“That’s for another day. I understand.” I take a step back, releasing her hand. “Call Karli. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”Material © NôvelDrama.Org.
“Okay.” She wraps her arms around herself again, the long sleeves covering her hands, and watches me as I open her front door. Despite the subject matter, despite the confusion between us, the look in her eyes makes my chest tighten with emotion. “Thanks, Porter.”
There’s a smile in my voice. “You’re welcome, Holland.”
I square my shoulders. Despite my calm assurance to Karli that yes, I can do this, don’t worry, anxiety runs through my veins. And right behind it, guilt. I had recommended Chloe. She’d been hired on my suggestion, and then she’d screwed us over.
I press the intercom to Chloe’s apartment. “I’m downstairs.”
“Come on up!” Her cheery voice makes my stomach drop even lower. If Cole is right-if her mistake isn’t a mistake at all but deliberate embezzlement-she’s still willing to have dinner with me. Just imagining it makes me feel nauseous.
My phone feels like a box of dynamite in my pocket. It’s recording all sound, anything we say saved for posterity. That’s the second reason I’m here tonight. To get an admission on tape.
Chloe opens the door to her apartment with a smile, her hair in a high ponytail. “I’m so glad you took me up on the offer of dinner.”
Does she mean that? Twenty-four hours ago I wouldn’t have doubted her for a second. Now, I can’t not.
“Thanks for having me. Wow, whatever you’re cooking smells good.”
“Pasta carbonara. It’s a simple enough recipe.”
I follow her through the living room-a plush couch, a large TV-into a big kitchen. “Well,” I say, “that’s still a huge step up. Do you remember in college? We’d make Pop-Tarts in the toaster in our room.”
Chloe laughs, stirring a pot of boiling pasta. “Yes. Vanilla for me, chocolate fudge for you.”
“Those were the times.” I lean against the counter, wondering where we went wrong for this to have happened. Sure, we’d drifted apart, but there was a time when we’d shared both our days and nights together.
She offers me a glass of wine, her smile still in place. My palms feel sweaty around the glass. Dinner had been a pretext to get invited, to ensure I got answers face-to-face, to avoid being a dodged phone call. But how do you bring it up? This wine is divine. Also, did you steal money from our business?
“So,” Chloe says, “how has the job hunting been going? After the bookstore closed?”
I clear my throat. “So far so good. I have a few applications going out this week.”
“That’s great, that you’re staying on top of it. And please, let me know if I can do anything to help.” There’s a beautiful display of compassion in her eyes. “I’m truly sorry about the way it ended.”
My wine tastes sour. “Thank you.”
She turns back to the pasta. “I tried everything I could.”
“Did you?” I say. “How nice.” I put my glass down and wipe my hands on my dress. If I’d ever harbored a long-lost dream of becoming a spy, this little attempt would put an end to it. I’m awful at it. Nerves are making my throat feel tight. “Where’s your bathroom?”
“Down the hall and to the right.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.”
I shake my head at myself as I walk swiftly from the kitchen. Just confront her, Skye. How hard can it be? Cole’s words come back to me, the ones regarding my sister. You never seem to have a problem standing up to me. Do the same to her.
The fire is there, inside me, burning at a comfortable distance. All I need to know is if it was deliberate. And if it was…
Absent-minded as I am, I open the wrong door to the bathroom. It’s her walk-in closet. And it’s filled top to bottom with handbags, with shoes, with belts. Beautifully displayed bags in a myriad of colors, both brands I recognize and ones I’ve never seen before. Designer handbags has never been my thing, but even I know that the collection in her closet is worth thousands of dollars.
My mind makes the assumptions lightning fast. The fire in me erupts and burns, righteous and fierce. I shut the closet with a bang and stride back into the kitchen.
“Chloe.”
“We found an accounting error in your bookkeeping.” Maybe I should have phrased it differently, maybe I should have been smoother, but suspicion and anger are like a cloud around my mind.
Chloe gives a wan smile. “Is there? I triple-checked, Skye, but if you want to point it out to me I’d be happy to look it over. Just send it to me tomorrow, okay?”
“No, it’s not that kind of error.” My hand isn’t sweaty now; it’s clenched into a fist at my side. “I’ve been informed that it’s a big one. The kind you’d know about while you’re making it.”
Chloe puts down her phone. “Skye, what are you saying?”
“Have you been embezzling from the bookstore?”
“What?” She blinks at me, once, twice, but the outrage looks superficial. Her eyes are too impassive.
“Why would you do that?” I demand. “Why would you need to? Chloe!”
Her affronted mask crumbles, her mouth turning down in a frown. “Damn it. You were never supposed to figure it out. You weren’t supposed to be told!”
“To be told?” I’m shaking, I’m so angry. “How could you? That’s Karli’s livelihood. It’s my job. And for what? So you could buy more designer bags?”
She shakes her head angrily, but it’s not in denial. “You have your books, you always did. I like something different. God, you were always so judgmental!”