by Rachel Hauck
Sales reported record returns on the lip gloss. Marketing, promotions, social media, every corner of CCW emerged with trumpets to their lips.
“Pink Coral is sinking the ship!”
Taking her father’s advice, she dug deep. Pulled sales reports, consulted with everyone from Blaire to the admins.
Friday afternoon, the evidence was spread across the boardroom table. She’d await confirmation from the auditor, but her analysis left little room for doubt.
The trumpeters were right.
Even more disturbing, CCW’s foundation products, Day Glow and Night Refresh, slumped in sales. By comparison, Great-grandma fared far better during the Depression than Coral did now in a thriving economy.
Foundation and mascara reported slightly less than expected. The new charcoal-based Miracle Mask that Lexa loved limped along.
Blaire entered the executive conference room with her laptop and a cup of coffee. “Nice outfit, Coral. Is it new?”
She glanced down at the tiger-print flared slacks and black top. “They were in the back of my closet.”
The CEO leaned over her shoulder. “Hard to argue with black and gold.”
“Except when it comes to our mysterious revenue shortage.” Coral peered down the long table at Dak, who’d just entered. “I take full responsibility for our present state.”
Drew and Lacy, heads of marketing and promotion respectively, scanned the pile of printouts.
“We’re going old school?” Lacy set down her laptop and took up a stack.
“Coral, we’re all responsible.” There was an edge to Blaire’s confession, as if it pained her to admit the truth. “We are your team and were responsible for the day-to-day when you were in Lauchtenland. Coral, I think I should resign. You brought me on to help steer the preteen line and take the company into the next phase, and all I’ve done is drive it into the ground.”
“It’s my fault.” Coral darted around the table. “You’re the one who kept this Titanic from sinking.”
“Actually, I’ve thought the same.” Dak glanced at Blaire, then Coral, and yanked his glasses from his face and tossed them to the table. In one move he went from Clark Kent to Superman with his wavy black hair, square jaw, and deep blue eyes. “We’ve let you down.”
“I rather think I let you all down. I am the president and owner. This falls on me. When I should’ve been here working, I flitted around Paris and Milan for a haute couture trousseau.”
Blaire grinned. “Well, you were becoming a princess.”
“By the way,” Dak said, “why did you leave him?”
So, the inquiry finally surfaced. Since her return home, no one had braved the question. But Coral knew of the office pool where almost the entire staff placed bets on why she had left Gus at the altar.
Caught him cheating was number one. Up to almost five grand.
Gus catching her cheating was a close second followed by about six lesser reasons. Cold feet. Didn’t want to be a princess. Never loved him. Which wasn’t true. Her love for Gus kept her in denial about her fears, about the truth, for far too long.
Coral surveyed the somber faces. Each one waiting for an answer to why she left her prince as much as what she wanted to do to save the company.
“Sometimes a girl discovers something greater and she has to yield her heart. Now, can we move on?” She returned to her place at the head of the table. “Might as well make the call. Despite the glowing reviews, Pink Coral is a failure. Let’s pull the plug.”
“I don’t see another way.” Compassion molded Blaire’s perfect complexion.
“Numbers don’t lie.” Of course, Dak trusted numbers.
“Let’s just set it aside, focus on our bread-and-butter products,” Drew said. “Get them back on the top. Then we can look at Pink Coral again.”
“You know my father suggested I fire all of you. Start over.” No one stirred. “But I am not my father.”
Their slight exhales were followed by shallow laughter.
“Thank you all for standing by me, supporting CCW while I figured out my life. I do value your loyalty.” The team gave her light applause as they packed up. “Now let’s get to work and put our products back on top. Rachel?” She beckoned the head of human resources. “Raises on hold until we see where we land. Including bonuses.”
Rachel nodded toward the exiting executive leadership. “They won’t be happy about that, but I was going to email my thoughts on a wage freeze when I went back to my office.”
Thirty-year-old Rachel was an HR savant, if such a thing existed. She knew how to manage people and training, how to build a positive corporate environment.
“Please do.”
“And Coral?” Rachel said, low and unassuming. “I know you’ve stopped taking a salary.”
“Shhh.” Coral pressed her finger to her lips.
“We’re going to fix this, I know it.”
“One way or another.”
Coral strode toward her office with feigned confidence and looked over the railing to the floor below, where more than a hundred people depended on her for a paycheck.
Marketing, promotions, art, sales, administration, finance, purchasing, human resources, the formulas and new-product department, community and customer relationships, PR. Not to mention the production site as well as the photographers and models they contracted every year.
In the middle of the floor, Blaire and Dak talked with Chris, the head of IT. Blaire caught her attention and gave her a thumbs-up.
With refreshed hope, Coral returned to her office. CCW might be a cosmetics company but the people, the employees, the customers, were the heart and soul.
It was why her grandmother started developing and selling her own products. To help women. To create jobs. To give people a better life.
In her office, Coral exhaled against the closed door. “Grandma, if you’re watching, I’m sorry. But I won’t let you down.”
At her desk, she deposited her laptop and papers, then pulled open the bottom drawer, taking out the book she’d stashed there a year ago.
She had one like it at home too. The one she purchased the night before she told Gus she couldn’t marry him.
Flipping through the pages, Coral paused on the words in red, printed across thin, delicate paper. The page was warped by her dried tears.
“You got me through the breakup, Lord. Please see me through this.”
With that humble plea, she tucked the book away and got to work, sending a message to her assistant, Matt.
Schedule Tuesday for Pink Coral shutdown plan. All executive staff.
Once she got things square, she wanted to go out into the field, meet the distributors, visit the sales team, tour the production plant.
Then she wanted to peer over the shoulder of every department and review processes and plans.
Next, she’d haunt the commercial sets. Hover over the art and design departments, comb over every aspect of customer service, administration, and finance.
Then make necessary revisions and redirect her executive team.
She might have lost control over the past two years, but she’d have no excuse going forward. She was taking back the reins.
She’d just made a hot cup of tea when a light knock sounded.
“Enter.”
“You busy?”
She whirled around to find Chuck standing in the doorway, so swarthy and broad, seemingly out of place in her glass-and-chrome office with designer furniture, full bar, and bath.
“Chuck, what are you doing here?” The teacup shimmied in her trembling hand. “Can I get you anything? Water, Diet Coke, tea, coffee?”
“Naw, I’m good, thanks.” He sat on the edge of the white leather sofa, hands gripped tight, his oversized Ohio State jacket zipped halfway over a dark-blue T-shirt. His thick Italian hair couldn’t decide if it was black or a foxy silver. “Nice place, Ms. Winthrop.”
“My grandmother remodeled it ten years ago. She had timeless taste.” S
hould she join him on the couch? Or sit at her desk, looking all powerful and executive-like to cover up the fact she had a huge crush? She didn’t realize it herself until now.
“Did you drop off a fare near here?” Couch. Act like a friend.
“Yeah, around the corner. I was going to break for lunch when I looked up and saw your company name staring down at me from this big ol’ building and thought to myself, ‘Why not see where Coral hangs her hat?’”
“I’m glad you did.” She felt revived in his presence. Even . . . beautiful. How long had it been since she felt like more than a slug?
“Must be a lot of pressure to run a place like this.” Chuck stood, glancing around, peering through the glass toward Matt’s desk. “How’s everything going?”
“We decided to stop production of Pink Coral.” His kind inquiry touched her. He knew only a little of her troubles and yet here he was, checking on her. “The pressure is real. Two years ago, I was the leader of a worldwide cosmetics company. We were in the black, making about forty million a year. I’d just been invited to join an international women-in-business organization. While developing Pink Coral, I met Prince Augustus of Lauchtenland, and my life took a road I never imagined.” She paused, seeing the irony for the first time. “I never imagined we’d fail and my sweet lip gloss would sink the ship.”
“You don’t seem like a shrinking violet to me, Coral.”
“No, I guess I’m not. Thank you, Chuck. I mean it.” She trusted his insight. He wasn’t a man of idle flattery.
“My ex loved your products. Didn’t get the connection until I walked in here, saw all the posters. Her whole side of the counter was lined with CCW. Too bad about the kid gloss. My Riley would’ve liked it, I bet. She was putting her mom’s goop on her face before she could run.”
“I bet she’s beautiful. Your Riley.”
“She is.” After a beat of silence, he tipped his head toward the door. “I won’t keep you.”
“I’m glad you stopped by.” She set her tea aside and walked with him to the door, wishing he’d stay a bit longer. “Would you like a tour?”
He shook his head. “Not my thing. I worked for my ex-father-in-law’s trucking company, so I know this side of the business world. A lot of headaches.” He was so broad he blocked the hallway light coming through the door.
“A lot of rewards too.”
He grinned, making her weak with his old-world charm. “My office was a hole in the wall. Nothing like this.” He started to go, then paused and raised his arms over his head, hooking his hands over the doorframe. His strength pushed against the confines of his sleeves. “I was thinking maybe . . . Look, I’m no prince but . . .” She willed him to complete his thought out loud.
Yes?
“I’m glad I met you. At the society.”
She deflated a little. “Me too.”
“Lexa’s story had me thinking all week.”
“She told me on the way home she didn’t mean to share so much. I think she was kind of embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? She was a victim. Did you notice she never said anything bad about that kid, Carnie? Or Babs?”
“She has a lot of wisdom. But I think it’s wasted on Zane Breas.”
“I hope she finds a good job in the city. She’s starting to feel like a good friend.”
“Agreed, and I don’t have many good friends.”
“Same.” Chuck lowered his arms and stepped aside as one of the admins delivered snail mail to Coral’s desk. “Guess I’d better get out of your hair. Look, Coral, if you ever need a ride, you have my number.”
“Yes, I do.” Is that all? “But I have a driver. A service.”
“Yeah, sure. A buddy of mine runs a car service. Maybe you heard of it? Elite Rides?”
“Afraid I haven’t. I’m booked with Car Concierge.”
“CC, I know them. Good guys.”
“If you want, I could mention you to Lucian, the owner.” Really, he wanted to talk about car services?
“I’m good with Elite, but I appreciate it.” Once again Chuck stepped aside for a second admin, followed by the skinny new geeky kid from IT.
“Ms. Winthrop?” Coral fished for his name. Teddy. “You got a minute?”
“Not at the moment, no. Can I have Matt call you when I’m free?”
“I should be going. I’m in the way,” Chuck said. “You got work to do. See you Monday, Coral.”
“Yes, Monday.” Is that all? Aren’t you going to ask me out? She’d been holding her breath, hoping.
“Am I going or staying?” Teddy stood in Chuck’s place.
“Please, come in.” She took a final look at the departing Chuck. He looked as good going as coming.
Gathering herself, she faced the pale-faced young man with long bangs crossing over his forehead.
“What’s wrong, Teddy?” She noted his laptop as she retreated behind her desk. “You look concerned.” He was a sweet kid, sharp. When she’d taken him to coffee a few months ago after he hired on, they talked for four hours. “Are Chris and the IT team treating you well?”
He twitched like a timid jackrabbit. “Yes, ma’am. They are. I love it here.” Ma’am? He was all of twenty-two and she all of thirty-three.
“Good.” She pointed to his laptop. “Do you have something to show me?” Something about seeing Chuck filled her with confidence.
“You know I was hired to work on maintenance and stability. Chris has been complaining the servers were slow and the memory shares spiked too often during the day, so I’ve been doing some tuning.”
“Thank you. I’ve noticed a difference.” But why was he telling her this?
“May I?” He pointed to the coffee table and opened his laptop. “I want to show you something, and I hope I don’t lose my job for it.”
Coral joined him on the couch, choosing the spot where Chuck had perched. The cushion was still warm from his presence.
“What are we looking at?” Two windows. Two open accounting systems.
“A hidden database.”
Her skin chilled. “Hidden?”
“Did you know about this?”
Coral rose and shut her office door. “I did not.”
“I could tell by the log-in signatures you didn’t access this database, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t aware.”
“Is this what I think it is?”
“Afraid so.”
“How’d you find it?”
“Treasure hunting.” His narrow face widened with a bashful grin. “I like to dig around, see what people are storing on the server, look for unused data space and clean up drives. I discover things. Usually it’s stupid stuff like porn or secret love letters. A lot of people have affairs at work. You wouldn’t believe it, Ms. Winthrop.”
“Coral. Call me Coral. Is that what this is? Secret files?”
“Secret all right, but worse than illegal downloads. These are two sets of books.” He reached for his shoulder bag and pulled out a ream of paper. “I printed these out as a backup,” he said, dumping two stacks on the table. “The real financials and the fake. You’ve been logging into the fake one.”
Coral took up the nearest stack and scanned the first page. “This is the real data?”
“Yes, ma’am. Looks like we’re doing good. That product PC301 is killing it.” He pointed to the budget-vs.-actual lines. “Already exceeded annual projection.”
She was on her feet, trembling, flipping pages. PC301. Pink Coral. Her baby was killing it.
“Teddy, you’re a genius. I’d kiss you if it wasn’t against company policy.”
He blushed. “Just having some fun. Never thought I’d find a second DB. It was hidden pretty good.”
“I bet.” Coral paced, shaking. “Let me get this straight. There’s a database for me and one for who?”
Teddy flipped to another screen. “Admin1 and Admin2.” He pointed to the log-in signatures. “I wasn’t sure who they were.” He looked at her with round, droopin
g eyes. “I thought maybe you, but I guess not.”
“How do we find out who’s logging in?”
He grinned. “I set a trap last night with some sweet code I wrote in college. It sets an alert whenever someone logs in with those usernames. I can pinpoint an IP and take it from there.”
“And?”
“Got a hit from last night. Two. Blaire’s and Dak’s laptops.” He handed her another printout. “Shows their log-in time and location. How long they stayed logged in, and the changes they made.” He dusted his hands against his jeans.
“What else did you find?”
“Expense reports covering vacations, school tuition, shopping, hotels, dinners out. All charged to the company.” He switched screens again. “Here’s a list of expenses in the last year. Looks like it started in January.”
When she got engaged to Gus.
“The auditor comes next week. I’m sending him to you. Show him what you showed me. That’ll save him time. I told the executive team our regular accountant was sending over a new man to get some experience. Blaire and Dak won’t worry because they’ll think he’s too green.”
“Even an experienced auditor wouldn’t have found this second database.”
“But you did. My secret weapon.” Coral collected the printouts and carried them to the wall safe. “Keep a strong paper trail for me, Teddy.”
“Got it.” He closed his laptop. “Better get back before Chris comes looking for me. I have to admit, it’s a pretty clever setup. Usually embezzlers don’t work very hard to cover their activity, because they want to appear legit. But in order to keep everything straight, and to have some sort of honor among thieves, they have to create a trail. These two covered their tracks pretty well. My guess is someone with database experience helped them. Oh, here’s your log-in to the real database.” He slid a piece of paper across the coffee table. Very clandestine.
“Teddy, why did you come to me, not Chris? Do you think he’s in on it?”
“I came to you because of my grandmother.”
“Your grandmother?”
A red hue flashed across his cheeks. “When I told her where I was working, she got stupid excited. Told me how much she loves CCW products. Been using them since the fifties.”
