There was more work than I’d anticipated, getting the figures together after the gala, but by Thursday, I felt I had a comprehensive enough preliminary report I could present to Oliver and Luther. We met in the boardroom at the end of the day.

I felt as jittery as my first day on the job. This was the culmination of a wild few months during which I’d not only helped organize an incredibly successful fundraising event, but along the way had managed to deal with blackmail and the return of an ex-boyfriend and, most importantly, get my life back on track.

The fact that I seemed to have found the time to fall in love with an amazing man during all of this astounded me.

I’d arrived in the boardroom early. At lunchtime I’d gone out and bought a bottle of champagne once I’d gotten an idea of the final figures. It waited, chilling in the fridge. My laptop was on the sideboard in case I needed to adjust anything, but I’d spent the afternoon double-checking the numbers, and checking them again.

I sat at the head of the table. It was usually Oliver’s chair, but this was my meeting. The men walked in on time, Luther barking into his phone, as they took their seats.

Once Luther had ended his call I cleared my throat and began. “I think you’re going to be happy.”

Not even Oliver’s smile could distract me.

“I can run through the figures with you—”

Luther rifled through the papers. “That’s for accountants, we just want the bottom line.”

“Can you not give me my moment in the sun, Luther?”

“Nope, bottom line and a celebration, that’s what I’m here for.”

“Okay. Last page, net profit. Check it out.”

Luther swore, and Oliver gave me a look so powerful, so filled with a hundred different emotions, it nearly knocked me off my chair.

“We broke two million,” I said, my voice shaky with emotion.

“Fuck,” Luther said.

Oliver just said my name.

“It was your speech, Oliver. You drew them in. It was a lot of things, but really, I think it was your speech. People pledged money. I didn’t even know that was an option on the app, but there was a button where they could simply donate, and there were some fat wallets at that event.”

They both started talking at once, going back through the figures while I got the champagne. I poured three glasses, and passed them around.

We toasted each other, drank, and laughed. I felt giddy, as though I’d held my breath for three months and, at last, I could exhale and draw some fresh air.

Luther grabbed my laptop and put it in front of me. “Open the bank account, Darcy, I want to see the dollars.”

“You’re crass, Luther,” Oliver said.

“Oh, yes, I fucking am. But I want a screenshot of that fat bank account. This is the beginning of something wonderful, Oli.”

I could hear the emotion in Luther’s voice, and it made me realize that he, too, had a personal stake in this. I wondered what it was.

My laptop was taking its time to boot. Luther picked it up, looked underneath it and put it back on the table. “This thing’s a dinosaur. Is that the best Oliver could give you?”

I slapped his hand away. “Don’t be rude. It’s mine, and yes, it’s the most I could afford. Oliver gave me a Mac to use but I never got around to learning it. I’m more comfortable with Windows.”

The welcome screen popped up and I logged in. “Here we go,” I said. “It will be just a minute. The banking software is kind of slow on this.”

“Should have used the Mac,” Oliver murmured.

I would have rolled my eyes, but I was so excited I’d just made two attempts at putting in the banking password and got them wrong both times. The third attempt succeeded and I clicked on the account and spun the laptop around to show the guys. “Ta da!”

At first I thought their silence was due to them being astounded all over again at seeing the figure in all its glory in a bank account. In a sense, the account balance made it more official than the report figures.

“Is this the right account, Darcy?” Oliver asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure it is, though I messed up the password twice, so it could be anything,” I joked, turning the laptop to face me so I could see the screen. What I saw stole my breath. “Oh, shit, sorry, it must be the wrong account or something. Here, let me check.”

I closed the program, opened it again, entered the password, went to the account and nothing had changed. The account was almost empty. The balance showed a total of just over a thousand dollars.

I stared at the figure, disbelieving. “I don’t understand.” My hands refused to work properly as I refreshed the screen. “Honest, guys, I checked this morning and it was all there.”

The figure stubbornly stayed at $1,028, mocking me with its insignificance.

Luther was heading for the door. “Don’t you move, Darcy, and don’t touch the fucking laptop. Don’t open any other programs. Nothing. Do not touch that fucking thing.”

My hand hovered on the mouse. I wanted to relaunch the program and see if that made the money come back.

“It’s a glitch, right, Oliver?”

He rubbed his mouth. “No idea, hon. You saw the total in there, right?”

“It was there, Oliver. I promise I saw it. And now…what the fuck? How can it just disappear?”

I lowered myself to a seat in front of the computer and stared at it. Inside I felt completely numb, filled with concrete, lifeless. It had to be a banking glitch. Perhaps too much money had come into the account in one hit, and the bank had flagged it as suspicious. That had to be the explanation. Even though I’d spoken with our account manager and explained what would happen, there was probably some automatic system in place they weren’t able to override.

Except, they might have frozen the funds, but surely they wouldn’t take the money out of the account?

The few bubbles left in my champagne glass were listless, releasing slowly on a sluggish rise to the surface.

“Hang on, I’ll get my phone, I’ve got a banking app on it so I’ll see if I can access the account.”

Oliver looked up from his own phone and gave me a tight smile.

I went to my office and sat at my desk. Was I some sort of jinx? Whenever it felt that things were going right, life did a sharp turn and took a nosedive. Post euphoria, my thoughts jumped around, and waiting to pop up when I certainly didn’t need the extra stress, was the letter sitting in the drawer in my dressing room. I should have opened it but I wanted to enjoy the success of the gala for just a few days before I dealt with the next big issue in my life.

I found my phone, and, because it must have been Friday the 13th, complete with a herd of black cats, and ladders I had to walk under, the battery on my mobile was dead. Black screen, thin red battery line. I went to the supply cupboard where I’d once noticed a number of battery chargers and found one that fit my phone.

It would be several minutes before it would return to life so I returned to the boardroom. It was empty, but just up the hallway, I could see the crack of light escaping the gap in the office door that hadn’t quite been closed.

I intended to knock, but instead I was silenced by the snippets of conversation that drifted out.

Luther: “…doesn’t trust you if she hasn’t told …”

Oliver: “How did you find out?”

Luther: “background search…it’s all in the folder.”

What folder, and what the hell was the background search? Had Luther done a search on me? I’d always expected he would, but I also suspected he’d done it in the early days and come up with nothing of consequence.

Luther had his back to the door, so it was difficult to hear what he was saying.

Oliver: “There was a letter…”

Oh, shit. Had he read it? Had he seen the earlier letter? Did he know everything? Every time I thought I’d reached my own worst nightmare, a new horror arrived. I had no idea how I could salvage a place for myself in Oliver’s life now that he knew about my massive debt.

He’d think that, like Annabelle, I was only after his money. He’d never be able to trust me, or believe that my love for him was genuine.

I scurried off to my office like a kicked puppy and started packing. There wasn’t anything personal beyond gum and lipstick as it turned out. I flicked through all the drawers to check that I hadn’t missed anything and checked that my phone had enough charge to summon an Uber. It didn’t. It still redlined like a terminal case.

I returned to the boardroom and stared at my laptop. It was my laptop. About the only thing of value I’d managed to bring from Sydney. I needed it. I wondered if taking it would look as though I was doing something devious. Luther had told me not to touch it.

Nevertheless, it was my laptop and I had every right to take it with me.

I didn’t know why I directed all of my anger and confusion at Luther. Perhaps he was the easiest target. Someone who was volatile. Someone I was unlikely to hurt. He’d just think I was a stupid woman. Or, a guilty woman. Did Luther think I’d stolen the money?

Oliver was a different matter. It would break my heart to hurt him. But I was hurting, too. I’d put everything I had into the gala, and it was a success. But now, at the first hint of trouble, they were tucked away in Oliver’s office, the partial closure of the door making me feel as though I wasn’t welcome.

I was prepared to slink away, but I hadn’t done anything wrong. The last time I remained flat like a doormat Rob had wiped his filthy boots all over my reputation. And even though my reputation might be tarnished, I was in the process of buffing that thing bright. Never again would I leave something that valuable in another person’s hands.

I marched back along the hallway. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I had as much right to be in that meeting as either of them.

I pushed Oliver’s office door with such force it hit the doorstop with a smack and bounced back at me. Both of the men stared. With no speech prepared, uncensored words flew from my mouth. “I heard what you were saying about me, and I want to remind you that you shouldn’t be quick to judge when you don’t know the facts.”

“Darcy—” Oliver began, but I held up my hand and cut him off.

“How do you think I feel about the money being missing, and you guys hiding yourselves away?”

Oliver stood. “Hey, come here. Luther had something he wanted to talk to me about.”

“Me, I expect.”

“Well, yes, it was about you.” He spoke with a measured voice, his eyes darting around making a quick assessment of me.

“Oh, that’s really charming. Talking about me behind my back. And what did you decide? That I’m a thief? That I somehow took the money because I’m that stupid I wouldn’t think you’d notice?”

Luther stood to address me. “It had to do with Australia, and a rather large sum of money you’re being sued for. If we’re talking about trust, and doing things behind people’s backs, why haven’t you told Oliver?” His voice was menacingly calm.

“What happened in Australia is none of your business, nor is it Oliver’s business,” I said.

“Too late, sweetheart, I’ve made it my business, because what affects you, affects Oliver. What affects Oliver, affects me.” Luther’s calm was infuriating.

“And now you’re concocting some imaginary scenario to explain the missing money. Well, you know what? I’ve had it with your overblown loyalty. I was prepared to help figure this out because even though I’m female, Luther, I do have a working brain. But you’re on your own.”

I spun around and left the office, furious with myself because I’d lost my cool and brought all my emotion into a business scenario. Technically, I was the one on my own. They had each other and a deep, enviable friendship that meant they’d always back each other up. I was the intruder who’d done nothing but bring chaos to their ordered lives. Sure, Oliver had his issues with his ex, but they were things he and Luther were completely capable of dealing with. Together. As friends.

Me? I was the rotten onion. Layer after layer peeled back to reveal an even worse stench in the layer beneath.

I checked my phone. There was enough charge to hook me up with an Uber. My laptop was another thing, though. It would be petulant to take it if they needed it to investigate what had happened to the money. I had nothing to hide in that sense, and I certainly wasn’t intent on sabotaging whatever work they needed to do.

I opened the app and added my destination, and found a ride that was only three minutes away. I’d reached the end of the corridor when Oliver came for me. I continued walking and he kept pace.

“Come back to the office. We’re just on the phone with bank security.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ve got a car coming for me.”

“Cancel it. Darcy, come on. We’ve handled this badly, and I apologize. Everyone’s wired and we’re all saying things we probably shouldn’t.”

“No,” I said, pushing the button that opened the door after-hours.

“Oliver, we need you here.” The urgency in Luther’s voice propelled his words down the long hallway.

“Darcy, wait. Do it for me…for us. Please. Don’t leave right now.”

“My car’s here.” I ducked through the door and hopped into the innocuous red Honda, thankfully not driven by somebody I knew.

“Working overtime?” the middle-aged woman asked.

“Something like that.”

My work would begin once I reached Oliver’s house. I needed to get to that letter and find out for myself what Luther had discovered.