Chapter Thirteen - Cross
“I’ve got the login if you want to try it.”
Jessa groans and flops against the couch. “Why are you so insistent? For the last few days I’ve had to fight to make you understand I want to check everything, and now that I don’t care, you’re suddenly onboard. You don’t have to show me a single thing. They fired me, remember?”
“You can access the accounts remotely.”
“Don’t you have a login for your own business?”
“Nope. Segregation of duties and all that. If I had that kind of access, I’d totally understand why you were investigating us. If I need information, I can run a report from a set list, but that’s about it. I can’t change any information, and I can’t add anything.”
“Good. That’s exactly what I’d want to hear if I still had a job. I’ll be sure to let whoever takes over my role know.”
“It’s read only, but you have full access.”
“Thank you. That’s really accommodating.” Her eyes are closed but her fingers twitch like she’s tempted. Then she sits up and says, “Oh, for God’s sake, fine. Log me in. I’m not promising you anything, though.”
I can’t help but laugh at this crazy situation. Who’d have thought I’d be begging someone like her to dig into my affairs? Especially when she’s in my hotel suite wrapped in a souvenir Hollywood sarong she bought on the way home.
“Log me in, then you can leave me alone for a bit.”
“No problem. You’re in charge. I need to make a Skype call. Will that disturb you?”
“Nope.” She waves her hand, intent on her task.
Danny sent me a text earlier in the night but the news of Jessa’s change in job status overshadowed him a little. Now I have time to get back to him while she taps away in the corner. He answers, with video, on the third ring.
“Hey Danny, what’s up?”
“Nothing major. I have some intel for you.”
“Is that a cat on your lap? I thought you hated cats.”
“This is Mr. Biggles, the one exception to that rule. Turns out he’s an excellent matchmaker, and you cannot hold a grudge against someone who gave you so much. Even if he does occasionally poop on the bathroom mat. Who’s that in the background?”
“Who?”
“Don’t be daft. I can see a woman behind you.”
“Oh. That’d be Jessa.” I turn around and stare at her. “Can’t you stay out of the frame?” I turn back to Danny. “Jessa is from the tax office. Remember I told you I was being audited?”
“You took your auditor on holiday?”
“No, I did not. It’s a long story and I’m not about to explain, but you asked who she is and now I’ve told you.”
“Is she your date?”
“No!” Jessa and I answer simultaneously and Danny laughs.
“Does her boyfriend know she’s in your hotel room dressed in a sarong?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Jessa calls out, and for a second, I’m elated.
I’m a grown man who’s considered every trick over the last twenty four hours to find out if the woman he’s interested in has a boyfriend. How infantile. Job done, though. I’ll have to thank Danny for that when I get home.
“Anyway, what did you need to tell me?”
“It’s not from me. Everett wanted you to hear before you see it on the news.”
“Spit it out.”
“His injury was caused by his own side.”
“His burns? He got them when he pulled that guy out of the tank.”
“Yes, but the event that set the tank on fire. That was, what do they call it? Friendly fire? The pilot of the plane taking aerial photos pushed the wrong button and let off artillery.”
“Holy shit. How’s Everett taking it?”
“He says he’s known for weeks, but he wasn’t allowed to say anything. The official report from the army has been made public, though, so he wanted us all to hear it from him.”
“Or from you.” I laugh as he frowns at me. Watching him scratch the big orange cat under the chin while we talk is so odd. I’ve never even seen him let a cat rub against his leg.
“I tell the story better.” He chuckles as Tina puts a coffee cup in front of him.
“Things going well for you two?”
“Definitely, Cross.” Tina sticks her head in front of the camera and raises her hand. A diamond glitters on her finger. “Check it out. It’s all happening.”
“Congrats you guys.” They both laugh and Danny looks genuinely thrilled. “It’s so fast. You just met.”
“We know. But I asked her a week ago and this made it official. You better hurry back or you might miss the wedding.”
“How soon?”
“As soon as we can. We’re going to the registry office to get our marriage licence when they open today. Then we have to wait a minimum of thirty days or something.” He glances at his watch. “Speaking of which, I have to go. Get home quick.” He clicks a button and I’m returned to silence, the screen blank.
“Does he always hang up on you?” Jessa asks.
“Anything can happen with Danny. I’ve learned not to ask too many questions. Are you okay if I call my mum?”
“Do I need to hide? Apparently, the sight of me starts tongues wagging.”
“No need. I told you. I don’t have much to hide.” I choose my mother from the list of contacts and try to connect. The line rings and rings, but I’m patient. It takes her ages to answer when she’s not expecting a call from me.
She appears on the screen, smoothing her hair and settling into a seat. “Cross? Is that you?”
“Yes, Mum. No one else can call you using my login.”
“I know you told me that, but you can’t be too careful these days. So many new ways to trick people. How’s your trip going?”
“It’s gone well. I visited with the family yesterday and gave them the medals. Today the memorial was officially opened.”
“Oh, nice. Who’s that behind you?”
“That’s Jessa. She’s working with me.”
“At night?”
“Yes. It’s business. She’s an accountant.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Anyway, I called to ask if you’ve decided what to do about Reg?”
“No.”
“It’s been weeks, Mum. Two months even. He deserves an answer.”
“I just don’t know what my answer is. If I say yes, then things will be different. I’ll have to ask for legal changes and I don’t think I want to do that. We’re happy. Why mess with it?”
“Because you’re both getting older. If one of you gets sick, don’t you want to know that you can be together?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“That’s what you said last month.”
“Yes, and it’s probably what I’ll say next month. You can’t talk. You’re showing no signs of getting married. I don’t have any grandchildren yet. If anyone should be rushing into something, it’s you. Happy birthday, by the way. I wish you could have been home for it. Thirty is special.”
“Thanks, but it’s just another day.” Behind me Jessa has shifted on the couch. No doubt the birthday talk did not get by her. “I have to go. I wanted to make sure you were okay, and that you were considering what to do about Reg.”
“If I decide, you’ll be the first to know.”
We finish our call and I close my laptop. When I turn around Jessa is watching me.
“You had a birthday?”
I nod. “Yesterday.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
“Why would I?”
“We could have celebrated.” Her eyes don’t leave mine.
I shrug and stand up, heading for the bar. “We did celebrate. You got your hair braided and I visited with new friends. We even managed to eat cake.”
Chapter Fourteen - Cross/Jessa
Cross
When I return from the gym an hour later Jessa is upsid
e down on the couch, her legs thrown over the backrest. The tips of her black hair touch the floor and her eyes are closed. I try to walk quietly to the kitchen, but she wiggles her toes and opens her eyes.
I can’t help but ask, “What exactly are you doing?”
“Thinking.”
“Do you do all your thinking in that position?”
She smiles but doesn’t move. “Most of it. My best stuff comes from all the blood rushing to my brain.”
Her skirt has ridden up and I fight to make sure I don’t have my own rush of blood. I’m only wearing gym shorts and I’ll have trouble hiding any evidence. I think of cold showers as I pour myself a drink and face away from her. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m considering the consequences of your offer.”
“The job offer?”
“And the Vegas one.”
“Did you come up with any grand solutions?” I cross the room and sit on the other couch. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I can’t quell the flutter in my stomach. I’m about to get what I want. Again.
She stays exactly where she is—staring at me upside down. “I’ve never been to Vegas.”
“Could be a great way to experience it.” Easy, I counsel myself. Don’t get excited. You’ll be stuck on this couch all night.
She sighs, slides her legs to the right and struggles to sit up. Her skirt is now bunched around her thighs and I have to look away. She has legs that go on forever—the sight of which I’ve managed to avoid up until now.
“I have to show you something.” She stands up and her skirt drops back to a sensible length. She drops the brightly coloured sarong onto the table and says, “Come here.” She points to the couch and I sit where she was. The space is warm, and the faint scent of her perfume teases me. “You said you paid for the fundraiser yourself, right?”
“Yep. I transferred ten grand direct into Everett’s account because he paid for all the tickets.”
“What’s this, then?” She peers over me, pointing at the screen. Her hair brushes my shoulder and I’m almost too distracted to understand the details. “This is a transaction for ten thousand. It’s dated the sixteenth of April, which was the week before, and it’s made out to Everett Porter.”
I frown and try to think back. I’m certain the ticket didn’t go through the business because it wasn’t a business expense. We support plenty of charities and claim everything we’re legally entitled to claim, but I don’t cook the books. Not ever. I have no idea why this is here. Maybe I messed it up.
“I don’t know what to tell you.” I tap my fingers against my leg. “Let me get my laptop and I’ll pull up my bank statement.”
“Your bank statements are all here.” She waves her hand at the screen but I’m on the move toward the desk. Away from her scent which is more of a distraction than I could have imagined.
What’s wrong with me?
“No, my personal statements.” I open the computer and login, tapping on the keyboard as I wait for the screens to load. I click onto my bank account and nod at the screen. “Here. I told you. I paid him direct from my own account.” I point out my own ten thousand dollar transaction. “I don’t know what the other one is. I’ll have to ask accounts to tell me.”
Jessa turns back to her screen and sits down. “Let’s see if we can find any more information about this.” She clicks her mouse and waits for another screen to load. Then she clicks another button and squints at the details. The light from her screen reflects on her face and the colours flick across it as the next screen loads. She’s entranced, reading details and clicking around to find what she needs.
If she didn’t smell so good, I’d sit next to her so I could see what she does.
“Ahhh. Mr. Ronstein, we have a winner.” She swivels and grins at me. The triumphant glint in her eyes worries me and I wait for the announcement to follow. Jessa likes her big announcements.
Instead, she stays silent, until I can’t take it anymore. “Come on. Tell me.”
“I’m not sure you want to know. That’s what I was mulling over before.”
“Oh, I want to know. The look on your face tells me that.”
She swivels back and sighs, a sound that’s both triumphant and resigned. “Okay, you asked for it. Look at these bank details. This is where the ten thousand dollars for Everett Porter was deposited. I’ll bet if I were to dig through the transactions, I’d find more like this.” She points, her finger touching the glass. “Here.”
I don’t immediately make sense of what I’m seeing. In the receiver name section is a company name—Rothschild Financing. I shrug and look at Jessa. “I don’t know what that means. Should I?”
“Does Everett have a company called Rothschild Financing?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well, if he did, wouldn’t you have to give these details to your accounts department to make the payment?”
“Yes. But I didn’t.”
“Exactly. But someone did.”
“Oh.” The words drops from my lips and then I’m silent. I know what she’s getting at. Whoever is involved with Rothschild will lead us to the person who sent this to our accounts department. I have a nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I see the same thing reflected in her eyes.
She nods and turns back to the screen. “I’ll keep digging. From the horrified look on your face, you and I both believe this is not an isolated invoice.”
JESSA
I’m meant to be digging through these records but all I can think about is Cross and his offer to continue my holiday with him in Vegas. Everyone knows that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas and that’s the problem.
All kinds of things could happen if we spend any more time alone together. I haven’t missed the way he watches me when we’re out. He was almost jubilant when I told him I’d lost my job and now considered myself on holiday. No way is that a normal response.
My own reactions are even worse.
Even now my face is flushed and my heart racing as he wanders to the kitchen, waiting for me to find something else. I want to ask him to put a shirt on—but I also don’t want him to put a shirt on. He’s been to the gym every day we’ve been here, but tonight I’ve seen the results, and let me tell you, the man has guns. He’s built, and tanned, and it’d be better—safer—if he put a shirt on.
I blink at the screen trying to block out the sounds of him in the kitchen. I haven’t had a drink since we returned from the restaurant and grabbed some toasted sandwiches for dinner. I don’t trust myself around him. Vegas, with cheap alcohol and the promise of sins that no one will ever know about is the worst idea I’ve ever had.
Temptation whispers to me, though. Calls to me. Makes me want to do outrageous things and be less accountant-like for the first time in my life. Hormones rage through me and I can feel my body almost leaning toward him when he returns to the couch.
The figures swim in front of my eyes and I give up and close the laptop with a sigh.
“Nothing else?” His tone is hopeful, even while his eyes smoulder at me. He wants to believe that one transaction is a mistake and will easily be cleared up.
We both know it isn’t, and it won’t. There’s something to be discovered here. Something that will take a lot of unravelling to figure out. I don’t have the head for it tonight. “I can’t find the payment details for that invoice. I’ll get someone who knows the system to help me tomorrow.”
“I know where to look for it.” He puts his glass on the table and before I can move, he sits beside me, pulling my laptop toward him. He places it on his knee, opens the lid and faces it to me. “Password.”
I log in, conscious that our arms are touching, and our legs are pressed together. The couch seats three people and he could have had a whole cushion to himself. Instead, he’s almost on top of me, giving me no space to get myself under control. I lick my lips, hoping his attention is on the screen as I take shallow breaths. If I’m not careful he’ll hear my
pounding heart.
With a few clicks he’s in the payment screen and we both stare at the name in the payee section.
F. L. Busey.
Chapter Fifteen - Cross
“Son of a bitch!”
My vision clouds and I blink, staring at the name again to make sure I’m not seeing things.
“Holy shit,” Jessa whispers beside me.
The anger I’m so familiar with rushes over me. Red spots appear in front of my eyes and I slide the laptop onto the table and stand slowly. “I can’t believe he would…” I can’t finish my sentence.
Jessa puts her hand on my arm. “You can’t do much about this now. The time difference alone makes it difficult. Stay calm. You can take care of it when everyone is back at work.”
I suck in a ragged breath and face her, a thousand thoughts screaming through my head.
I want to strangle Frank.
How great does Jessa smell?
Why would he do this?
God, she has beautiful eyes.
Don’t I pay him enough?
I want her so bad.
She’s standing right here.
I wonder how she tastes.
Without thinking, I lean forward and kiss her. She responds immediately and we share a few seconds of bliss before we pull away at the same time.
“Oh,” she says, her fingertips settling on her swollen lips. Those blue eyes find mine and I realise I’m breathing as though I’ve run up a flight of stairs. She looks rumpled. And sexy. And I want to kiss her again.
Jumbled images from our few days together crowd into my head, pushing out my murderous thoughts of Frank and whatever scam he’s been running. I slide my hand onto her cheek, tucking it into the back of her hair, all the while expecting her to pull away. Instead she takes half a step closer, her eyes never leaving mine. I lower my lips to hers, taking a moment to savour her taste, to explore the corners of her mouth with my tongue, to inhale whatever bewitching perfume she wears.
I can’t pretend I haven’t wanted this since the moment I laid her in that giant bed and fought with myself over whether to undress her. Her gentle snoring tugged at my insides then and visions of us together in that bed cloud my senses now.
The Billionaire's Duty: Secret Billionaire’s Club Page 6
