CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Shane

After hanging up the phone with Joe, I had one thought. I was going to kill her. I’d asked for one simple thing. For Daniella to stay in her hotel room. But evidently, that was too much. And what the hell was she doing asking for Joe’s inventory forms? It occurred to me that I could’ve told him not to give her the paperwork, but I was too curious about why she wanted it to do that.

As if the night wasn’t already off to a busy start, I’d already had to have two people escorted out for being intoxicated and had been obliged to break up a cat fight. Added to that, Mr. Moneybags was in rare form, causing my staff to kiss his ass and that of his entourage. I had to remind myself he’d paid a hundred thousand dollars for the box suite and he tipped the girls, some of whom were quite happy to service him.

And now I had to go drag Daniella’s ass back. Joe had called back to inform me she hadn’t taken my advice and was now sitting at his bar. Fuck.

I walked in and noticed the place was packed, as were most bars now that it was close to midnight. Yet she stood out with her copper hair down her back and a lyrical laugh at something Joe was saying to her from behind the bar.

I wasted no time stepping up and settling my hands at her waist.

She instantly tensed, but then must’ve realized it was me.

Joe gave me a nod. “What’s up, Shane?”

“Busy night. You?”

“Same.”

“You ready?” I whispered in her ear.

“Actually, no. I think this beats spending New Year’s Eve by myself in my room.”

“How many has she had?”

Joe chuckled. “Only one, my friend. I think perhaps you met your match.”

“Indeed. Let’s go, Dani.” I used a tone which didn’t leave room for argument, and yet she was able to ignore it.

She spun around. “And if I’m not ready to go?”

“Then I can get you ready.” I let the implication settle and was relieved to see her smile.

“Well, then. In that case.” She turned saying goodbye to the bar manager. “Nice to meet you, Joe.”

I led her outside and down the sidewalk at breakneck speed, already hard at the thought of sneaking in a quickie with her before returning to the club. It was crazy to think this would be our third time today and yet I still hadn’t had enough.

“I’m going to sit in your hotel chair where you’ll ride me reverse cowgirl while I play with your ass. But after that, I need to get back to work.”

“You don’t have to do me any favors, you know. And you’re not my keeper. I went to bars by myself before I met you. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

I backed her up against the cold brick wall of the nearest building and let her feel my erection through the layers of clothing between us. “Point taken. Now am I taking you to your hotel room or leaving you here?”

My phone interrupted. “What?” I answered tersely.

“Moneybags is asking for you. Where are you?” Max’s voice came over.

“Shit. Give me two minutes.” I hung up, looking at Daniella and already feeling regret. “I need to get back to work.”

We both looked around when people started counting down. It only got louder as they got closer. “Five, four, three, two, one. Happy New Year.”

Our eyes locked. I didn’t miss the disappointment which flashed in hers when I pulled away, not even willing to give her a kiss when it hit midnight.

We walked in silence back to the hotel entrance where she gave me a small wave and went into the lobby.

For the first time, I felt torn between the club and a woman.

***

It wasn’t until four o’clock in the morning that we cleared every room. I was on my second Red Bull and Max had gone straight for black coffee. Even Heather was uncharacteristically quiet while she wiped down the bar and put the last few things away.

Housekeeping had started their impossible task of cleaning up every room, and my security detail was due to change over in another hour. In all, it had been a good party, but I was over the holiday season and all its festivities. Thankfully, we wouldn’t have another one until summer. Tomorrow would be a fairly quiet day, and I looked forward to spending the night with Daniella. Knowing it would be our last night was leaving me restless. I reasoned it was because it was time to start getting back to normal. Put the holidays behind me and get back into the routine of things.

Speaking of which, I had a show on Friday night with a performer by the name of Donna Starr who’d be in town one night. I’d been with her before. She was spectacular at putting on a show, and I should be looking forward to it. The woman could suck a penny through a fifty-foot hose. Yet the thought of someone other than Daniella on her knees in front of me left me uninspired.

Crap. What was with this girl? Luckily, I had one more night to fuck her out of my system. Then she’d be back to her life, and I’d be back to mine. All I needed was some separation to get her off my mind.

I sent Max home to get some sleep while I prepared to make it an all-nighter. I’d catch a nap later if I got too tired.

***

Daniella

I brought coffee in for Max, Shane, and myself. They had to be even more exhausted than I was this morning. Knowing Shane, he probably hadn’t slept at all.

I’d stayed up late looking at the delivery sheets from Joe’s bar, attempting to match up the liquor types with quantities. Unfortunately, the amounts told a confusing story. It seemed Travesty was not getting the better deal. It might have made sense if Joe’s bar had more inventory. Then it would be understandable they’d be getting a better discount than the club. But judging from the slips and what had arrived at the club earlier today, we should have been the ones getting the bigger discount. Furthermore, numbers weren’t adding up. One case of Patron, for example, should contain four bottles. Yet it appeared we were being charged for ten. Same with the Grey Goose. And that was just on the stuff we had in common with Joe’s place. I knew for a fact that Travesty stocked some premium Scotch at four hundred dollars a bottle and some champagne worth the same. The sports bar wouldn’t. By the time I was done estimating, I calculated an approximate discrepancy of between three to five thousand dollars per delivery. If I multiplied that times twice a week, it could be like sixty thousand a month, if not more. The numbers corresponded with the loss I’d been looking for, but unfortunately, I had no absolute proof. Just a hunch to dig further for it.

If I stayed for Thursday’s order, that would provide the proof. And what was one more day, really? I was sure when I explained this to Shane and Max they’d be just as anxious as I to see if Heather was stealing.

I was right about Shane pulling an all-nighter. This was evident when he came up the stairs a few minutes after I’d arrived. “You look tired.”

“I am. And you look like you’ve been busy.”

I had paperwork spread out all over the desk, attempting to paint the picture I wanted to share with both him and Max. “I am. Here, I got you coffee. One for Max, too.”

“He’s catching a few hours but will be back soon. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“Everything okay from last night?”

“Yeah. Just busy. I’ll be glad to get back to normal.”

I had to bite my lip, wondering if part of the ‘abnormal’ had to do with me. “Definitely. Uh. So I think I’ve found your discrepancy, but I’d rather wait for Max to be here in order to discuss it.”

“Did I hear my name?” A bleary-eyed Max came out the elevator doors.

I smiled and handed over a coffee. “You did. Here.”

“You’re a saint, Daniella. Thanks.”

“Is, uh, Heather around?” The last thing I wanted to do was have this conversation if she could walk up or overhear it.

 “Nope,” Max remarked. “She’s off today. Will be in Thursday morning, though. Why?”

“Well, actually, one of the things I wanted to talk to you about is coming in on Thursday for the delivery. I’d like for both of you to be there, too.”

“Why?” Shane asked sharply.

“Because Thursday would show—”

“You said tomorrow was your last day. Whatever you have today is what we’ve got. And what does it have to do with Heather?”

I tried to fight the hurt that he didn’t want me here even for one extra day. “The invoice slips from Joe at Libations Bar and Grill, coming from the same distributor you use, showed what I’ve been missing from our invoices: the quantity per box. Now obviously, their pricing can be different, depending on the deal. For instance, a box of Patron normally comes in a box of four, but you’re being charged for a box of ten if I’m doing an average wholesale price per bottle.”

“What the hell are you saying, Daniella?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m saying I think Heather is stealing from you. And she has someone in the distributor’s office or on the delivery truck helping her.”

His expression turned angry. “You can’t be serious. What proof do you have?”

“I have enough that you should want to look at the inventory on Thursday to see for yourself. If you don’t want me here, fine. It’s not like I’m trying to overstay my welcome, just attempting to do my job.”

“Which includes accusing a long-time employee of theft. One who you profess not to care for and have had issues with.”

I stood up, my temper snapping. “You hired me to find out why your numbers weren’t adding up.”

“Clearly, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“You’ve had a loss every month for the last two years. At first it was hundreds, easily written off. But now it appears to be at least twenty thousand a week. You want to know why you’re numbers aren’t making sense and why it’ll trigger an audit for the IRS. It’s because you’re losing inventory.”

Since Shane looked so pissed off, my eyes shifted towards Max. He was running a hand through his hair but had stood quiet. Gathering my documents that showed the trend, I handed them to him. “You’re welcome to look for yourself. And don’t worry. My last day will be today.”

“Fuck,” Max cursed, looking over my notes.

“You don’t actually believe her, do you?” Shane asked.

Forget fighting the hurt. I was hurt. And pissed. I knew the man had trust issues, but the fact he’d put me in that camp stung. “Believe whatever the fuck you want to. I’ll be in touch next month with your tax return, but I won’t need to be on site for it.”

I intended to gather my shit and leave, but Max’s voice stopped me cold.

“Six months ago, I was here for stocking. I noticed a a missing box of champagn and questioned Heather.”

Shane’s furious gaze settled on his friend. “What did she say?”

“She said she had partied and admitted to taking it home.”

“What the hell, man? And you didn’t tell me.”

“She made me promise not to, afraid you’d be furious. She gave me five hundred dollars later that day, saying she’d always intended to pay it back. I believed her. She’s been here the entire time we have and has always been a loyal, trusted employee. It would be no different than if you’d done the same.”

“Fuck. I’m going over to see her at her place. She’ll tell me the truth.”

“Do you want me to come with?”

Shane shook his head. “No.”

Without so much as a backward glance, he strode out, evidently on his way to wake Heather up.

I stood there in shock until Max’s voice broke through. “He’s running on adrenaline, honey. Try not to take it personally.”

I gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah, like he didn’t accuse me of making it personal with Heather. Anyways...” I made myself smile and not get emotional. Never could I have imagined things ending this way. But maybe it was for the best. Maybe leaving Shane and this club should be easy because I was pissed instead of sad. “It was a pleasure, Max.”

“I’m sorry it had to end the way it did. What are your plans?”

“A nice nap and a flight leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

He looked surprised. “New client?”

I shook my head. “Long overdue vacation.” I’d requested the time off last week, using the excuse I’d had to work during the holidays.

“Some place warm, I hope.”

I smiled. “Jamaica, at an all-inclusive resort where all I want to do is lie in the sun, read a book, and eat good food.”

“Sounds amazing. And if there is anything you need: a recommendation, help with your move—”

I’d enjoyed the rush of forensic accounting and had started to think I might have found my niche. It certainly beat the hell out of boring taxes. And if other clubs could trust my discretion, then I might be able to quickly build a client base. “I may take you up on that recommendation for other clubs such as this.”

“New client for your firm?”

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about doing some freelancing. Maybe I have a thing for sex clubs now.”

He chuckled. “Please, please make sure you run them past me. Not all of them are reputable.”

“Deal. Take care, Max.” I gave him a hug, gathered my computer bag, and took one last look before leaving.