by L. E. Harner
Someone just out of camera range spoke. “Yes, sir.” Then a young man and an older woman stepped forward to collect the signed papers. No one spoke until the door snicked closed.
“We obviously have a serious situation. Each of you will be given a full written report to review, however, they may not be taken from the room. Gerald will be here to answer any legal questions at the conclusion of our meeting. I’ll give you the shortened version. I may need to ask for a vote, but please hold your questions until the appropriate time.” Oliver tapped a pen on the stack of papers in front of him, frowning slightly.
“In the last twenty-four hours, several major events have come to light that raise serious doubt about Harmon’s assets, our senior staff, and our security. You are all aware of the delicate nature of the negotiations Sue is undertaking in Tokyo right now. What we all stand to gain is tremendous and yet this morning I heard rumors of a hostile takeover based on insider information. Only the people in this room would have access to the complete scope of that information. It raised questions. I conducted a discreet enquiry. You are not going to like the results.”
I listened as Oliver gravely spoke about the accounting errors in the shipping and import divisions that led to the discovery that someone was profiting at Harmon’s expense.
The camera seemed to focus in on George’s face, his pursed lips and creased brow and I could almost hear the questions form in his mind. As controller, he should have been aware of any irregularities and heavily involved if there was an investigation.
“Hand out the summary sheet now, Oliver,” Archer murmured into the mic.
Oliver pulled a sheaf of papers from the pile on the table. He took his time removing the paper clip, and the moment drew out, some of the members of the board looked uneasily at each other, but no one spoke. Goling studied the papers in his hand, then looked up, and scanned the faces of those around the table. The man missed his calling—he should have been an actor.
Finally, with a sigh, he passed out the quarterly account summary that had been compiled into a single sheet. George practically snatched his copy, then ran his finger down the page, hesitating over several of the figures. His head snapped up as if he’d been slapped.
“What the—Oliver, I don’t understand. These aren’t the right totals. I finished the balance sheets on these accounts myself. I’d stake my reputation on it…there’s nothing wrong with any of them.” From the flush crawling up his neck to the shake in his voice, George’s indignation was totally believable—to those of us who knew he was telling the truth. To those in the room with him, it would come across as further evidence of his guilt. From the expressions on some of the faces around the table, it was clear Delaware had made a few enemies in his time at Harmon. They looked ready to attack as the moment after George’s denial extended far beyond what was comfortable.
“Go to the PowerPoint,” Archer murmured.
The projector lowered from a panel in the ceiling, the lamp shining, lighting up the small screen mounted on the wall behind Delaware’s seat. George twisted around in order to be able to see. Oliver worked the remote and slide after slide flashed up; Delaware’s bank records showing several large deposits over the past month, and a single withdrawal today of nearly the entire sum. There was an email from a realtor confirming his purchase of a Nicaraguan villa, and a signed contract to sell his Atlanta home.
With each new slide, there were gasps from the men and women around the table, and from the direction of the camera and the cast of light reflecting on George’s face, I could just make out the movement of his mouth as he practiced his fish out of water routine.
“I don’t—I didn’t—”
Oliver didn’t give George a chance to speak, he merely stared at the man and thumbed to the next slide. The screen was filled with the image of a certified letter, signed by George, requesting all of his shares of Harmon Enterprise be sold immediately and the funds deposited to a bank in Managua. Profit sharing was the retirement plan of choice for senior executives, and with the company poised on the precipice of a very profitable collaboration, the timing of cashing in his shares was damning.
A buzzer cut across the silence of the room, out of place, shockingly loud. Several people jumped and Oliver blinked in apparent surprise.
“Sir, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Somerville gave me orders to notify him if a package arrived for Mr. Delaware.”
On the screen, Oliver looked at his CFO. Somerville shrugged. “Given the timing and what we were uncovering, I suspect this could be pertinent, boss.”
Archer’s mouth twitched, and his right eyebrow rose when he looked over at me. He looked like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary.
I winked back, but my stomach tightened, the only hint of nerves I’d felt all day.
Turning back to the intercom, Oliver depressed the button. “Thank you, Thomas. Will you sign for the package and bring it in here, please?”
“No, sir. The delivery boy won’t turn it over without seeing Mr. Delaware. He’s creating a bit of a disturbance. It might be best if—”
“All right. Bring him in.”
The boy slouched into the room, wearing high school dropout chic from his black knit watch cap to the torn, unlaced Converse sneakers that peeked out from wide-legged jeans that hung halfway down his ass. A heavy metal chain looped down one thigh, as if there was so much money in his wallet he needed to attach it to his pocket. His black tee shirt had a giant yellow smiley face that showed clearly, even through the slightly grainy pattern of the closed circuit feed. My heart constricted.
The boy stepped toward George. “Mr. Delaware, good to see you again. I got your package.” He held up a large manila envelope.
George looked from the delivery boy to Oliver. “I—I— Goddammit! I don’t understand any of this. Those aren’t my records.” He pointed to the screen with a shaking hand. Turning back to face the boy, he snarled his next words. “Get the hell out of here. I’ve never seen you before and I’m not expecting any package, either.”
George’s eyes narrowed and his lips formed a thin line. It was as if the appearance of the delivery boy brought things together for him and he finally realized he was being set up. You could almost see the word ‘lawsuit’ forming in his mind.
Tucking the envelope closer to his body, the young man looked at Delaware for a long beat, then reached up and removed the knit cap, exposing his shaved head. “Yes, sir, you have.” Jeremiah replied, the honorific sounding more like a curse.
George’s eyes went wide and no one in the room could miss his gasp.
With a little smile, Jeremiah opened the envelope and with a loud slap, tossed a handful of documents on the table. A driver’s license, a passport, a birth certificate, and a social security card. Those with photos, clearly showed George Delaware’s face.
Someone from across the table leaned in and picked up the passport. Opened it, looked from the blue folder to George and back again. “Ladies and gentlemen, according to this passport, the man formerly known as George Delaware prefers to go by another name, now. You’re looking at Archer Jeremiah Zachary.” He tossed the passport back on the table.
George’s eyed were wide, disbelieving as his gaze shifted back to Jeremiah.
“Don’t worry about paying, me, man…I’ll be around later to collect.” With a little salute, Jeremiah turned to leave the boardroom. As he walked toward the door I caught sight of the message plastered on the back of his tee shirt. Have a nice life, fuckwad.
~~The End~~
About the Author
Laura likes it hot, which helps explain why she ended up Arizona after living in such diverse places as Japan, New Orleans, Maine, and Florida. She once enjoyed hobbies such as gardening and travel. Now the characters in her head compel her to tell their stories to her readers, so she writes. She shares her home with her husband and youngest son, two dogs, and a cat. Laura also writes under the name L.E. Harner, and her books can be found at
Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance eBooks, and other online retailers.
Connect with Laura at:
Twitter: http://twitter.com/lauraharner
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Or even better…check out the website at http://lauraharner.com
Other Pulp Friction Titles Now Available
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"I'm Chance, this is my place. You want me; this is where you can find me."
The problem with that, of course, was that it wasn't my name. My name was actually Aaron Dumont.
I picked up the name Chance as a kid when my grandma kept telling me "Chances are you'll come to no good, just like your pa." She had said it so often, it just kind of stuck. I've been Chance ever since. When she passed away and left me the remains of her estate, I sold everything but a few special items then invested it all in a nest egg for a rainy day.
I figured that's what she'd intended it for anyway. She'd said as soon as I joined the police force back in the eighties. "Chances are you'll come to no good there. It's a dangerous job and you're an accident waiting to happen."
She was right too.
Wicked Solutions by Havan Fellows
Sometimes the only way for justice to prevail is to get a little Wicked...
People who call him know the deal. He'll solve their problems, but he'll do it his way. That's the only way Wick Templeton plays the game. His years on the force and connections to all types of specialists put him in a league of his own. That's how he intends to keep it.
An ex-boyfriend in need puts Wick on a path that crosses that of Ned Harris, a stranger who proves to be a worthy adversary.
Wick's simple agenda gets a little more complicated. Item one: Clear his ex's name. Item two: unmask the enigma that is Ned Harris.
It's a good agenda. Too bad Wick can't seem to stick to it.
Triple Threat by L.E. Harner
Master Archer found his forever with fellow Dom Zachary, but when their discreet recovery business interferes with their private time, Archer buys exactly what his lover needs—the perfect personal assistant, submissive Jeremiah. Because anything two can do, three can do better. Now the trio must work together to recover a grieving widow's stolen insurance money, and the thief is...her not-so-dead husband.
City Knight by T.A. Webb
What happens when two broken men collide?
Marcus works the streets of Atlanta, determined to keep it a safe place. An ex-cop, he buried his heart years ago. Ben works the same streets, selling himself to pay for college. The victim of a horrible crime, he decided to Just. Not. Care.
When their chance meeting leads to an unlikely attraction, will the ghosts that haunt them bring them closer, or separate them forever?
Caution: This is the first in a three part series, and you WILL want to come back for part 2. Hot men WILL have sex, and I can guarantee hot angst in my stories.
Second Chances Are by Lee Brazil
The ghost of his past keeps Aaron “Chance” Dumont from settling into his new relationship with Rory. Tired of coming in second place to a memory, Rory fights back in his own way with tragic results. Realizing that second chances in life are rare, Chance finally makes a decision…and then the past walks through his door.
Wicked Bindings by Havan Fellows
Wick Templeton is taken by surprise when a mysterious email is sent to his private address. Surprise won't stop him from hijacking an investigation of a serial killer. He's sure his investigative style won't mesh with the enigmatic Ned, but that's Ned's problem not his.
Together they will wear each other's nerves down, butt heads, raise libidos and maybe—if they are lucky, solve a few murders in the process.
Retribution by L.E. Harner
When Dom Zachary walks out the door with Master Archer, leaving his inexperienced sub to wait for his attention, he never imagines the boy would call an abusive slave trainer with a grudge instead. Now they must find the missing Jeremiah and make the bastard who took him pay. Their salvage business has never been so personal.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
