CHAPTER TWO
Chris
I’ve known Lindy a long time now. The first time we met was when she was sixteen and she’d come to a company function. Back then she was rail-thin and mousy with huge clunky glasses, and I hadn’t paid much attention except to say hello to my employee’s family.
Because Lindy’s dad, Jim, works for United Electric. We’re a small construction outfit, doing jobs all over Long Island, both residential and commercial, and Jim was a great guy, talkative, outgoing, like a friendly golden retriever always ready to do your bidding.
But there had been some anomalies in his performance lately, some things I couldn’t overlook and I’d had to take it up with him.
“Jim-boy,” I said casually last Friday, leaning back at my desk. “What the fuck is going on? What the fuck happened with that last job?”
Jim got really red, made all the worse by the fact that he had blonde eyebrows. He looked like a red potato with golden whiskers, fresh from the oven. I almost felt sorry for him, the dude was so uncomfortable and fidgety, but I steeled myself. I was the boss and this was business, nothing more.
And he hemmed and hawed, making excuses.
“Costs got out of control, the supplies were more expensive than we thought and you know Danny over with Kamco, he was supposed to extend us credit, but he didn’t,” the man babbled nervously.
But I shook my head slowly, the drivel running through my ears. These were just shady half-truths. Jim was our controller, he was supposed to be on top of the numbers and the problems didn’t stem from supply issues or cost overruns. It was far more serious, a rotten inner core from deep within.
So ignoring the other man’s chatter, I leaned over my keyboard, tapping a few times and pulled up a spreadsheet before turning the monitor towards my employee.
“These are the books from last month,” I said casually, “Your job is to keep on top of them, make sure they reflect United Electric’s daily revenues, our spend, our take from each job.”
The blonde man nodded miserably, so nervous that he was beginning to sweat, and I could see a shiny slick on his forehead. But I was going in for the kill and this was no time to back off.
“And this,” I said pointing to a column numbers, “is less than it should be.”
Instead of denying it, Jim just looked down, nodding, twisting his hands in his lap.
“I know, I know,” he babbled, “I’ll look at it again, I had a feeling something was wrong, the numbers didn’t square up, didn’t meet our estimates …”
I cut him off.
“This has nothing to do with estimates or projections,” I drawled smoothly. “The numbers don’t add up because you’ve been taking from the till, helping yourself to some extra, Jim-boy. Why? Why did you do it? Do I not pay you enough?”
And Jim looked about ready to burst into tears then, his chin quivering, eyes growing moist and bright.
“No, you pay me great!” he protested with a hiccup to his voice. “Thank you Mr. Jones, thank you for hiring me, I didn’t mean to be ungrateful, it’s just that … that …” he mumbled.
I sat silently, expectantly. What could possibly justify stealing from your employer? Shit, I should turn this guy into the feds, this was criminal behavior.
But the tears began to spill then.
“I’m so sorry,” blubbered Jim, his nose running with trails of slime, his chin drooping with sorrow, “but my daughter’s college tuition is so expensive I needed some extra to get us through this next year, I’ll pay it back, I swear.”
I steepled my hands thoughtfully, shaking my head. Jim was disgusting, that was no justification for his actions, there was always the option of student loans, parent loans, or fuck, he could have just come to me for a personal loan. But I got it. A lot of people lied to themselves, telling themselves that they’d just “borrow” some money, they’d take it without anyone noticing, the money would be put back before anyone even realized it was gone. But that’s a bunch of jack shit. That money doesn’t ever come back, it’s gone, flown off to its next destination and the unfortunate part in this case, was that I was his boss and I wasn’t exactly the nicest guy out there.
“You’re fired,” I said abruptly. “HR will have your paperwork.”
The blonde man blubbered again, dropping to his knees before my desk and clasping his hands.
“Please Mr. Jones, no,” he begged. “I didn’t take that much, please don’t, my family needs the money, we have a mortgage, my daughter’s in college, please.”
I shook my head, turning away.
“Business is business,” I said ruthlessly. “Get out.”
But Jim was tenacious, I’ll give him that. Instead of getting to his feet and leaving my office, head down and defeated, he anted up and doubled down.
“Please!” he screamed, throwing himself at my feet. Okay, now this was getting a little dramatic, like out of a movie. Was I going to have to get security to escort him out? “I’ll give you anything you want. Just another month on the job so that I can find a new one. Please!” he wailed.
And I paused for a moment. In general, I like to cut a cancer out at its source, discard it before it festers and grows into a huge sore. But in this case, Jim had a point. I didn’t have a new controller lined up and it would take time to interview candidates and conduct a thorough search. So if I kept him on for another month, it would help with the transition, help us keep the books up until someone new stepped in. But I’d have to keep an eye on the fucker. Fuck. That fucking sucked. I was here to bring in business for United Electric, it was my job as the boss to drum up new jobs for us, to wine and dine clients so that we landed multi-million dollar contracts. So to spend my nights as a part-time accountant fucking sucked, it was the last thing I wanted to do. But against my better judgment, I agreed.
“Fine,” I said roughly. “One more month and then you’re out.”
And the man bobbed his head up and down thanking me.
“Thank you, thank you Mr. Jones,” he blabbered, eyes welling with tears of relief. “Thank you, this will give me just enough time to find a new job, and I will pay you back, I will,” he promised.
I just turned away, disgusted, shaking my head.
But the pathetic dude had the temerity to keep going.
“Is there one more thing I can ask of you?” he begged, still on his knees.
My head snapped to his, eyes blazing. What the fuck, this guy had just admitted to stealing my money, taking my shit, caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and now he wanted something more from me? Fuck, some people are unbelievable.
But before I could throw him out of my office, the guy’s face crumpled again.
“Please come to my twentieth anniversary party this weekend,” he mumbled, “It’s Linda’s and my anniversary, and I don’t want her to suspect anything. I want my wife to be happy and you know she’s been sick lately, she’s been looking forward to this party for so long. Please come so that she doesn’t think something’s wrong.”
And to my own disbelief, I agreed. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was going soft between this talk of sick wives and family events. But the damage was done.
“Fine,” I ground out, “I’ll be there.”
And with that, Jim shuffled out the door, bowing and scraping, his blonde head bobbing, the wisps of white hair comical as they waved back and forth.
“Oh thank you, thank you,” he blubbered. “You won’t regret it Mr. Jones.”
And after the door shut, I just sighed. Really, what the fuck was wrong with me? Seriously, I had money to make, a business to build, and I’d just been roped into going to a loser party, put on a happy face so that this thief could make his wife happy. Had the world gone crazy?
But I knew the real reason. I’m no Mr. Nice Guy. I’m a sick fuck, an asshole through and through and Jim-boy here had something I wanted. I hadn’t seen Lindy in a while, not for a year almost and she’d been captivating, young, nubile, shy but exciting. It was summer break now, she’d be at the celebration, right? And when my dick jerked, growing hard and twitching uncontrollably, I knew I’d made the right decision. Because Lindy was worth it, I wanted to set my eyes on the beautiful girl even if I was firing her dad.