Chapter Twenty-Two
The weekend dragged by without another word from Beck despite having texted him. So I buried myself in the project of overhauling my website and made a head start on two cake orders I had lined up. And then I made a gingerbread loaf. Remembered how it was the first thing my grandma taught me to make, and it always brought back happy memories. Plus, it tasted delicious, even if I did say so myself.
But when Monday morning rolled around, my stomach rolled right along with it. Would Beck be at work? Even if he was, I couldn't say anything at the office. And left alone all weekend, I'd gone from confusion to hurt and ended up at flat-out pissed off.
If he had a problem, why didn't he come out with it, instead of avoiding me? Surely this couldn't be about my contract having been extended. There had to be more than that to it, didn't there?
As I walked into the office, I wouldn't have time to answer that because Tony was leaning over my desk. “Morning.”
He jumped and straightened up from my desk, looking startled. Maybe I'd overdone the enthusiastic greeting.
“I was just leaving you a note.”
I shrugged off my coat as I stopped behind my chair to hang it over the back of it. “A note?” Tony glanced over at Jaz, but he wasn't paying us any attention.
“Yes. There was a…mix-up on the account you were working on last week.”
Rolling my chair out from beneath my desk so I could sit down I said, “Oh. Good.” Taking a step back from me his head tilted to the side.
“It's good there was a mix-up?”
Laughing nervously, I shook my head. “No. I meant…something didn't seem right when I was working on it on Friday. I meant good because I'd spotted it and intended to speak to you about it.” He looked over to Jaz as he rubbed his hands together.
“Well, I've saved you the trouble.” He tapped a finger against my desk. “My note explains it all, so I'll leave you to get on with it.”
Striding off towards his office, I watched him leave before dropping into my chair. Jaz poked his head around the side of his monitor then.
“Did you have a good weekend?”
I shrugged, not wanting to admit to Jaz that it had been pretty craptastic. “It was all right. I made some gingerbread loaf for you. What about you?” I grabbed the Tupperware box from my handbag and handed it over to him. He opened the lid and took a deep breath.
“Mmm, that smells delicious. Coffees are on me this morning to go with this. My weekend…”
He grinned and I held a palm up towards him. “That grin tells me everything I need to know. I don't need the details.” Laughing, he disappeared back behind his screen.
Waiting for my computer to log on, I read Tony's note. Then read it a second time because it didn't make any sense. The monitor flickered to life and I pulled up the account details. But there it was on the screen. Apparently one of the teams had spent ten hours working on the account. The money they'd paid the previous week had been returned and a new lower payment made. Except, when had someone had enough time to work on their account between Friday and Monday? Beck? I rolled my eyes. Why would he be doing the lowly work on an account?
As I moved the cursor to close out of their account, my gaze landed on the bank account numbers. They didn't match. Surely, Tony must have noticed.
Clicking through to the banking page, I tapped my fingers on the desk, waiting for the details to load. And when they did, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the rows of numbers. The original payment came from a UK bank account, even I could tell that. The same one the new payment had been made from. But Tony had paid the original amount back to a different account. Maybe they'd opened new bank accounts? Over the space of the weekend? It would take longer than that with all the checks the bank would run to verify it, wouldn't it? The hairs on the back of my neck lifted as goosebumps rose on my skin. It seemed a little…dodgy.
I did a Google search on the IBAN number. The bank was registered in the Cayman Islands. Resting my head back against the chair, I stared at the ceiling tiles. Why would they have an account in the Cayman Islands? I clicked back on the client record. They were a small family-run antiques business that didn't make that much money. Certainly not big enough to make an offshore bank account necessary. Not for the first time, I had my doubts about Tony. Especially when he'd told me I wasn't supposed to speak to anyone about this account. But if I had doubts—suspicions—I knew I should report them. That much I remembered from watching the video on my first day before it sent me into a boredom-induced coma.
I glanced Jaz's way, but he was hidden behind his computer screen. Plus, you weren't supposed to report your suspicions to a colleague. And did I really want to involve him? My gaze wandered to Beck's office as I considered telling him instead. He was my boss after all. The door to his office was open.
Before I thought too much about it, I was on my feet and heading for his office. This was work-related. That was the only reason I was going to Beck. Nothing to do with the fact that I hadn't seen him for almost three days. If I had seen him I'd still be reporting it.
Through the open doorway I spotted Beck sitting behind his desk, hands behind his head, elbows splayed as he stared at the monitor beside him. He looked tired. Hair ruffled, tie loosened and pulled off centre. And still, my heart gave a little squeeze at the sight of him. Realised how much I'd missed him. How much I'd wanted the weekend to be a replay of the one where he'd stayed over after his parents' party.
Rapping my knuckles against the door frame to get his attention, he glanced my way and smiled. That was a good sign, right?
“Hey. Come on in.”
I stepped into his office and closed the door behind me. Took a seat opposite him as I tried to work out what to say. Why hadn't he called? Was he pissed off that I was still at the office? That I was mad at him?
But none of that was work-related, so it would have to wait until I saw him again outside the office. If I saw him out of the office again. Beck's gaze wandered over my face.
“Everything okay?”
I nodded then said, “No.” Beck's lips lifted at the edges at my mixed reply. Swiping my hands down my thighs, I reminded myself I had no reason to be nervous. This was Beck. Personal stuff aside, I knew we needed to discuss this. “I'm sure it is. I mean it's…Tony told me not to speak to anyone about the account I'm working on, but I'm sure he didn't mean you.”
Beck didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow at me. Maybe Tony had meant Beck too. Oh well, too late now. “I thought it was weird that he asked me that, but not unheard of. Anyway, on Friday I was working on their account and something didn't seem right. But when I got into work today, Tony left me a note saying he'd taken care of it. Except the bank accounts don't match, and I don't know when someone could have racked up ten hours' worth of work for them. It's just…something doesn't seem right, and I thought I should bring it up…”
My words trailed off as I ran out of explanation and the way Beck was looking at me so intensely. His jaw was tense and he wouldn't meet my gaze.
“Have you brought this up with Tony?”
“No,” I said as I shook my head. Straightening his keyboard, he glanced at the monitor beside him. Finally, he looked back my way.
“I'm sure it's nothing. This is the first account you've worked on. Perhaps Tony should have explained the process to you better. But I'll take a look at their records with us. Don't worry about it, just do what Tony told you to.”
Beck picked up his pen and jotted something down on the papers on his desk. That was it? He wasn't at all concerned? A quick pat on the head for me and basically saying I didn't know what I was doing?
I waited for him to say something else, but he remained focused on whatever he was writing. My mouth dropped open to say something but then shut again. He'd pretty much dismissed me. What else was there to say?
I pushed myself up out of the chair and stood staring at Beck for a moment, but his head never lifted from over his desk. Turning away from him, I headed for the door. As my hand closed around the handle I hesitated when he cleared his throat.
“Oh, and Kimberly?”
I glanced over my shoulder at him.
“Best not to mention this little chat to Tony. Okay?”
Swallowing down the words I really wanted to hurl at him, I nodded instead. “Of course.”
Yanking the door open, I wondered if anyone in the office wasn't keeping something from someone else. The childish part of me wanted to slam the door behind me. Instead, I closed it quietly and headed back towards my desk.