by S. M. Shade
I scan over the reports and inventory numbers before glancing at the pile of receipts on the edge of the desk. “What are those?”
“Voids,” he says, waving his hand at them in dismissal. “I checked them against the drawer counts and it adds up.”
It suddenly becomes crystal clear what’s going on.
“It’s a void scam.”
Wyatt stares up at me. “A what?”
“Look.” I gather up the receipts that have void written across them. “I knew someone who got fired from a fast food joint for this. When the cashier rings up a purchase, say for a hundred dollars, they keep the receipt instead of giving it to the customer. Customers almost never take a receipt from me or they toss it in the trash can by the door. No one is going to bring back a sex toy. The cashier marks the receipt as a void, as if the customer changed their mind about the purchase or forgot their money or whatever. Now, it looks like there’s a hundred dollars extra in the drawer because they made a sale they’re claiming was voided. All they have to do is pocket the hundred dollars and the drawer comes out even. The items are missing from inventory because they’ve been sold, but there’s no record of it.”
Wyatt thinks about it for a minute. “I have cameras pointed at the cash register. Diana didn’t check them because the drawers weren’t coming up short.” He leaps to his feet and starts throwing on clothes. “I’m going to check the feeds.”
“I’m coming with you.”
I look through the voids on the drive over and notice something that really sucks. “I might be wrong,” I mumble. “The whole void scam is usually pulled by a cashier, but these receipts are from three different employees. I can’t imagine they all know how to do this.”
“We’ll see,” he grunts.
He doesn’t say another word until we get out of the car. “They better not have changed the alarm code.”
Wyatt unlocks the door, enters the code into the alarm keypad, and we make our way into the darkened store. I flip on the lights while he retrieves two flash drives from the office and plugs his laptop in on the counter.
I grab two stools, and we sit down to watch the world’s most boring reality show.
“Jesus, does he ever stop picking his nose?” Wyatt scoffs, grimacing.
“When customers are present,” I giggle. It’s amazing what people do when they think no one can see them. They obviously forgot that the camera was watching.
The grossest moment was actually from a customer. The cashier stepped out of view to fetch something and the woman took the opportunity to scratch between her legs and promptly smell her fingers.
“Oh, another scratch and sniff,” I exclaim, shaking my head.
Wyatt regards me. “Another?”
“We had a girl on the circle that used to do that. She’d scratch her crotch or her ass and then smell her hand. Some kids called her out on it once and she told them it was to make sure her underwear was fresh. They dubbed her scratch and sniff from then on. She moved a while back.”
Wyatt stares at me like he thinks I’m screwing with him, then bursts into laughter. “That neighborhood of yours, I swear.”
“Life on the circle.” I shrug. “It’s not always pretty.”
After another hour of zooming through tapes and watching the boring transactions, Wyatt rubs a palm over his face. “I don’t see anything. No one has even opened the drawer without a sale. Unless someone has some real slight of hand, we’re missing something.”
The corner of one of the voided receipts catches my eye and it all makes sense. “It’s not the cashiers,” I exclaim, snatching up a few more receipts. “Look.”
Wyatt’s brow creases as I point out a small number two in the corner of the receipt. It’s easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it since it blends in with the date. “What am I looking at?”
“That little two means this was the second receipt printed for that sale.”
“You can print two receipts?”
“Yes, let’s say the paper ran out or jammed and the receipt didn’t print. Or the customer lost it and wants another copy. All you have to do is go into the system and reprint it. The only difference will be the small two, that shows it’s a copy and not the original. Plus, the time stamp shows when the copy was printed, not the original.”
Wyatt leans an elbow on the counter. “Then they voided the second receipt and took the money. Do all the cashiers know how to do this?”
“No!” I’m so excited I hop off of the stool. “That’s the point. None of them can. Only someone with the manager code can reprint the receipts. Who has the code?”
Wyatt’s lips press together. “Joanne and Diana. Diana is the one who reported the discrepancies.”
“So, it’s Joanne, like you suspected. All she had to do was wait until everyone went home at night. Reprint receipts from multiple transactions throughout the day, then void them, and take the money from the cash drawers. The drawers would never be short, the inventory would, and overall sales would fall.” I sort through the receipts in his hand. “Look, they were all printed within minutes of each other, and all after hours.”
Wyatt takes the last set of receipts and forwards the video to the time stamped on it. Sure enough, Joanne stands at the register, printing off copies of the receipts. She gathers them up and takes the cash drawer back to the office. When Wyatt switches to the recording from the office camera, there’s no doubt left.
She adds up the receipt totals and puts the money in a separate deposit envelope from the rest of the profits. Once everything is put away and locked up, she tucks both envelopes in her purse. “One for the bank and one for her,” I murmur.
Wyatt grabs me and plants a kiss on my lips. “You’re a genius.”
“Nah, above average, at most.” I flop my hand at him. “It’s the multitude of voided receipts that gave it away. I get two voids a week at most, not five or more per day. She’s really been cutting into your profit.”
“Not anymore,” he growls. “I’m filing a police report first thing in the morning.” He grabs Joanne’s personnel file and dials her number from the store phone.
“Wyatt, it’s three a.m.”
“See how many shits I give,” he mumbles. “Joanne? Yes, it’s Wyatt and I’m sure you know why I’m calling. I want your keys to the store in the drop box within the next hour or there will be officers sent to your house. You are barred from the property, and I wouldn’t expect a final check since it appears you’ve taken far more than any wages I’d owe you. One hour.” He hangs the phone up without giving her a chance to reply.
I’ve never heard him talk to anyone that way. So forceful and commanding. Still seething, he turns to me and his face softens, a smirk working its way through to the surface. “Cass?”
“Hmm?”
“Want to tell me why you’re looking at me like that?”
Trying to pull myself together, I take a step back. “I wasn’t looking at you.”
“Uh-huh, and I guess you aren’t rubbing your thighs together while your nipples try to pierce through your shirt either.”
Traitor nipples.
“Definitely not.”
His arms shoot out and I’m pulled against him, my back to his chest. His voice is hot in my ear. “You like it when I give orders? I think it gets you all worked up.”
“Yes,” I admit.
“Oh, babe. I’ll remember that.” He reaches for a small plastic paddle and dangles it in front of my face. “I’d love to give orders to a naughty employee.”
Holy shit. What did I just start? “Well, if we’re going to incorporate toys, I may have a few ideas as well.”
Chuckling, he kisses my ear then hands me a bag. “Fill it up. I’m open minded.”
A smile crawls across my face. “Anything I want to try, huh?”
“Anything. I’m going to get these papers together and turn the cameras back on. Then we’ll go.”
A loud clunk sounds from just outside, followed by the sound
of an engine revving. “That was fast,” I remark.
“She probably assumes I won’t press charges if she does what I tell her.”
“But you’re going to?”
“You can bet your sweet little ass on it. Go get your toys and let’s get out of here. I’m exhausted.”
A yawn escapes me. “Me too.” Wyatt isn’t paying any attention to what I grab so I can’t resist throwing in a little something to tease him with.
We crash as soon as we get back to the hotel and sleep late. When I wake, Wyatt is sitting on the edge of the bed with a devious grin on his face. The bag from Scarlet Toys is in his hands.
“I have to say, Cass, I’m a little surprised. Who knew you were so kinky?”
“I’m not kinky! I’ve never used any of that stuff before.” His eyes zero in on my bare breasts when the blanket falls away as I sit up. He pulls out a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs.
“You’d let me cuff you?”
“Would you want to?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“I mainly got them to cuff you, actually.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh really?”
“Yep.” I crawl down the bed and dig into the bag. “It’ll keep you from squirming too much when I use this.” I pull out a slim, strap-on dildo and swing it in front of his face.
I swear I can practically hear his asshole pucker shut. “No way. Noooo. Not happening.”
“What happened to being open minded?”
“My mind is open. My ass is closed. Padlocked shut with a giant exit only sign.”
“Hmm, too bad. And I was going to let you try out that paddle.”
“I’m bigger than you, babe. I can paddle your plump little ass whenever the mood strikes me.”
Yeah, that threat shouldn’t turn me on the way it does. Shit, I guess I am kinky. My reaction doesn’t escape his notice, and his grin broadens. Before he can say anything, there’s a curt knock at our door.
A young man calls out, “Housekeeping!” as he enters. It takes a second for him to notice we’re still in the room. Probably because it’s past checkout time and we shouldn’t be.
His gaze lands first on the bed that is covered in an array of sex toys. Then his stunned eyes turn to me, and I squeal with the sudden realization I’m bare assed and holding a dildo in my hand.
“I’ll c-come back,” he stammers and flees the room.
Wyatt bursts out laughing, shaking the bed as I jump up and get dressed, my face burning red. “It’s not funny! He probably thinks I’m a hooker!” I cry, which just makes him laugh harder.
“Fine,” I reply, trying not to smile. “No paddle for you.”
I barely have the words out when I find myself flung across his knee. “Oh really? So, what’s this in my hand then?” He flips my skirt up, exposing my panties.
Why did I choose a skirt?
“You better never!”
Cold, smooth plastic rubs circles on my ass cheeks as I struggle to get up. “Now, fighting isn’t going to help. You let another man see your ass when it belongs to me. I’d say that’s worth at least five swats, but since it’s your first time, I’ll knock it down to three.”
“Wyatt, I swear to fuck if you—”
Swat!
It startles me more than it stings, and I feel my face ignite again. It’s the strangest sensation, being over his knee like this. Even though we’re just teasing, it’s a feeling of vulnerability I’m not used to.
“I’m going to kill you!”
Swat! Ow, okay, that one stung.
“Did that hurt?” he taunts, rubbing my ass.
“No! But when I get up—”
“It didn’t hurt? Okay, then.” His fingers slide under my panties, slipping them down my legs. I swear my face is going to combust.
But apparently not as quickly as my ass because that little plastic paddle burns like hell when it slaps against my bare ass. “Wyatt!” I squeal, and he pulls my panties back up.
He lets me up and as much as I want to glare at him, I can’t look at him. I’m too embarrassed. When I turn my back and reach for my shoes, he wraps his arms around me from behind.
“You have the sexiest, most spankable ass I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs in my ear. Apparently, embarrassment doesn’t outweigh the effect he always has on me, and I can feel my insides clench at the sound of his voice.
“I can’t believe you did that!” I exclaim, stepping out of his embrace.
“Are you upset because I spanked you or because you liked it?” I can’t seem to find any words, so he spins me around and pinches my chin between his thumbs, forcing me to look at him. “Talk to me, Cass.”
Shrugging, I mumble, “It’s embarrassing.”
His warm arms wrap around me. “You never have to be embarrassed with me. Whatever we do stays between us.” He grins down at me. “Besides, you were the one threatening to penetrate my ass.”
“Not threatening, promising,” I correct, and he shakes his head.
He drops a quick kiss on my lips. “We’d better get out of here before that boy comes back hoping for another show.”
Chapter Six
The next two weeks seem to fly by. Wyatt stays with me instead of returning to his hotel, and I’m impressed with how unfazed he seems with the normal Violent Circle hijinks. The man is nothing if not adaptable.
The Scarlet Toys building is being repaired and remodeled with amazing speed and it looks like we’ll be able to start stocking the merchandise again in a week or so.
Wyatt has to go back to Tennessee to give a deposition about the theft, and even though he invites me, I decide to stay home this time.
“I haven’t seen much of Jani lately. We’re going to spend Saturday together, hit the mall, get our hair done, you know, girly stuff. Jani’s happy we’re dating, you know.”
“Doesn’t keep her from flirting with me,” he points out.
“Actually, now she’s just talking about a threesome.”
Wyatt’s head whips around, and I hold up my palm. “Don’t even think about it.”
“You wouldn’t want to try it?”
“A threesome? Hmm…depends on which one of your friends.”
“My friends!”
“Or I still have your little friend under my mattress,” I tease. The strap on dildo has been there since we returned.
Chuckling, he leans down and kisses me. “All I need is you, babe. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
“Be careful,” I call as I follow him outside.
Jani is just coming up the walk. “Don’t worry! I’ll take her to the spa. Get her jungle deforested before you get back!” she shouts as if the whole damn neighborhood can’t hear.
Wyatt just gives her a wave and takes off. He might be getting too used to our insanity.
“Well, come on hussy! I told Emily we’d pick her up,” Jani says.
“Keep your panties on, I’m coming.”
“It’s not often my brother actually visits and can sit with Mom. I’ve gotta take my freedom while I have it.”
I hop in Jani’s car and we pick up Emily on the way to the strip mall. Our girl’s day out might not be as fancy as some other women have, considering we’re starting at a thrift store, but we have a lot of fun together. Besides, thrift stores can be a treasure trove of new brand name clothes for ridiculously low prices. It’s amazing how much gets donated that still bears the original tags.
“So, have you heard from Noble since the block party?” Emily asks Jani as we head inside.
“Nope. I think he finally got the message.”
“Not likely,” I giggle.
“So, I hear you and Wyatt are together now?” Emily says.
“Yep,” Jani interjects. “He fucked his way into her little black heart that is so determined not to love.”
I shove Jani. “You’re one to talk. I don’t exactly see you settling down.”
“When I find the right penis, I will.”
We stop at t
he racks of skirts and dresses. “What about you, Em? Seeing anyone?”
“Do the old men who bring me their skid marked underwear to wash every week count?”
“Ugh. Gross. I don’t know how you do it,” Jani says.
“Two pairs of gloves. It sucks, but it pays better than retail or fast food.” Emily holds up a pale blue dress. ‘What do you think?”
“Makes your eyes shine,” I tell her. “Get it.”
“There is a guy I’ve had my eye on. He comes in on Sundays with about ten bags of dirty clothes and washes them himself. He’s really cute, but I assume he has a family with that kind of load.”
“Wedding ring?” Jani asks, returning a godawful yellow skirt to the rack.
“No, so probably a girlfriend.”
“Or a boyfriend,” Jani replies. “The best looking ones are usually gay. Except for Cassidy’s man. Unless…” She turns and grins at me.
“Totally straight,” I laugh.
“Damn, I’d be his beard any day. Sit right on his face.”
Emily and I both crack up. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
Jani pulls out a silky, black, flared dress and practically shoves it at me. “You have to get this. It’ll drive Wyatt crazy.”
“You’re supposed to be dressing yourself, you know.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have my fat ass. I’ll never have your lean figure, so I’m living vicariously. Go try it on.”
“Guys love your ass,” I point out, before heading to the fitting room.
By the time I’ve changed into it, I know Jani is right. It fits perfectly and hugs my slight curves. It even fits through the chest. It’s hard to find dresses that don’t gape over my bitty titties, but this actually makes them look good.
We all leave the thrift store with bags of new clothes before heading to the shoe store. The key to shopping when you don’t have a lot of money is to save it where you can, like shopping at a thrift store instead of a mall, so you can spend it where you want to, like the shoe store.
I’m not as shoe crazy as Jani is, but I find a new pair of sneakers to replace my worn ones and a pair of ballet flats to match my new dress. My phone beeps, and I take a seat to read my text while Jani and Emily are trying on shoes.
