CHAPTER TWENTY

Daniella

New York City was absolutely nuts for New Year’s Eve, which is why I’d spent most of my life avoiding the place on that night. But tonight I was in the absolute heart of it, in a sex club, of all places. Ironically, I was doing the books, the most nonsexual activity possible.

Since it was the bar that was giving me trouble, I went down to the stock room, hoping to see the newly delivered boxes in order to get my brain wrapped around what was missing.

“What? Are you checking up on me now?” Heather appeared in the doorway.

“I’m doing an audit, which means I’m checking up on everything, not everyone.”

“Look, just because I fucked Shane before you got here and certainly will fuck him again after you leave, doesn’t give you the right to single me out.”

“That’s absurd. I’m simply trying to understand the invoices so I can make sense of them.”

“Then why are you down here? Shouldn’t you be at your computer if it’s a matter of you not understanding the invoices?”

I bristled at her tone but kept my face neutral. “Actually, I’m meeting Max.”

He came into the stock room, obviously having received my text message that I was ready to meet. He looked from me to Heather. “Hey, ladies. Uh, where is the delivery?”

“I already unloaded everything. What, now you’re in on this investigation, too, Max?”

I found it an interesting choice of words but stood quiet.

He sighed. “Look, I don’t have time for this. She’s doing a job, Heather. That’s all. And sorry, Daniella. At the next delivery, I’ll walk you through the process.”

Heather bristled. “The hell you will. And the next delivery isn’t until Thursday. Shane indicated she’d be gone by then. After all, he has his scheduled performance on Friday night.”

A slap in the face would’ve felt better. The satisfied look on Heather’s face told me she knew it.

I watched her walk out and gave a fake smile to Max. Then something occurred to me. “Where would the emptied boxes be taken?”

“There’s a dumpster out back. They should be there. You want me to help you look?”

I shook my head, knowing he and Shane were insanely busy trying to get things ready. “No, no. I’m fine on my own. Thanks.”

I purposefully made a show out of going up the front stairs back to the office so Heather would see me. Then I grabbed my winter coat, because it was absolutely freezing outside, and went down the back stairs. I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t find any of the boxes in the two dumpsters. What in the hell was she hiding? I couldn’t explain my determination except that I was certain I was onto something.

After stomping back up to the office, I found Shane at my desk.

“Hey, where were you?”

“Trying to get a sense of inventory, but Heather had already unloaded and stocked up.”

He didn’t seem bothered by it. “It’s a busy night. She probably did it early to get ahead.”

“The next delivery isn’t until Thursday morning.”

I didn’t miss the way his shoulders tensed. “Is it that important? If you’re still struggling with the inventory numbers and don’t want to talk to Heather about it, then write down your questions for me or for Max. We’ll try to get you the answers.”

In other words, he didn’t want me staying. In other words, he thought the problem was my lack of understanding. And of course, there was the performance he was already moving on to once I left. “Right. Well, I guess I’ll figure out what I can. Um, how many boxes do you get during a normal delivery, by the way?”

“Not sure. Sometimes a hundred or so. I’m sure today’s was extra large. We get deliveries twice a week. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll, um, talk to you later, okay?”

I nodded. Then I realized I wanted to go back outside. A hundred boxes couldn’t have gone far. And maybe I had something to prove to Shane: that my hunch wasn’t unfounded.

***

An hour later, my fingers were absolutely frozen. I’d tromped around to all the businesses in the area, looking inside of their dumpsters. I had nothing to show for it. Since neither the recycling nor trash trucks had come through on New Year’s Eve to empty the dumpsters, Heather had to be hiding something.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Shane looked like he’d been waiting for me when I returned to the office, but I didn’t appreciate his tone. “I went outside and walked around a bit.”

He stepped closer, taking my hands in his to warm them. “Jesus. Without gloves? I told you I don’t want to have to worry about you tonight. How about you go back to the hotel?”

“Why? What is this really about?”

He sighed. “I have a big shot coming in tonight who’ll be using the viewing room up here. He does this every year. He’s obnoxious, rich, and believes he can buy anything with money. If he sees you, he’ll assume you’re one of the girls here.”

“So I tell him I’m not.”

Shane shook his head. “He isn’t someone you say no to. The last thing I want is to have to step in and piss him off. Even worse, I’d come unglued if I saw him paw at you.”

I occurred to me that in a normal relationship, Shane would simply tell the guy I was with him. But this wasn’t such a thing. Besides, it wasn’t like we’d be kissing at midnight. “Sure, I can work from my room at the hotel. Will I see you later?”

“I’ll be lucky if I’m out of here before four in the morning. But we have one last night tomorrow night. Okay?”

Yep. Emphasis on last. “Sure. I guess Happy New Year.”

He smiled, already looking tired. “Yeah, Happy New Year.”

***

As soon as I arrived at my hotel room, I went to work with my sleuthing skills. I needed to get box counts. If I could get a quote for the same types of liquor, it would give me an idea for the number of bottles in a box. So I called the distributor, but as I should have expected this late on New Year’s Eve, I got no one. When I went to the website, I discovered I wouldn’t be able to get anyone until the day after tomorrow.

Shit. I couldn’t wait until Thursday. I’d be gone by then. I’d even made vacation plans to make sure I wouldn’t wallow here after my last day. And although I had good computer skills, I wasn’t advanced enough to hack into the distributor’s client accounts. And, yes, I tried.

Frustrated, I was about to give up, but then I came up with an idea. Club Travesty couldn’t be the only place around serviced by this distributor. However, the chances of anyone answering the phone this late were slim. Which meant I’d be going out for New Year’s Eve.

My first stop was downstairs at the hotel bar, but I wasn’t in luck. They used a smaller scale supplier than Club Travesty’s. But they did tip me off that the sports bar around the corner most likely used the same distributor as the club. So, two blocks down, I went amongst the growing number of people and into the bar.

It was just my luck the place was packed. When I asked to see the manager, the snippy hostess appeared completely put out. Shit, maybe I should’ve waited until tomorrow.

When the large man, sporting tattoos on his rippling biceps, came to the front, looking none to happy to be bothered, I almost bolted. Only the adrenaline from the chase gave me the courage to stay put.

“What’s the problem?”

“No problem. Um, I’m Daniella, and my client is currently using a distributor named Wicked Liquor. I was wondering if you use them?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“Well, I’m doing the books and found the box counts are missing from my receipts. I wondered if Wicked Liquor is doing the same with other clients.”

“Call them to ask.”

Oh, boy. “I would, but it’s New Year’s Eve.”

“No shit. This place is a zoo, and I have you asking me about suppliers on the busiest night of the year. What club are you at?”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. I’m with Club Travesty.”

“You know Max?”

“Yes, Max and Shane.”

“Why didn’t you say so? What do you need?”

“Uh, just your last order. You can redact the amounts; I’m only interested in the box counts for each type of liquor.”

“Sure. You want to come back with me to the office?”

Nope. Not even a little. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait out here.”

“No problem.”

He was back in ten minutes with papers in his hands and an apologetic look on his face. “Uh, spoke with Shane. Hope you don’t mind me verifying you’re with the club. He said to give these to you, but he was pissed you were here. Told me to tell you to get your ass back to your hotel room.”

I bristled. Not because the bar manager had called the club. I should’ve expected that. But because Shane was treating me as though I was under curfew. “Thanks for the paperwork, uh—Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Joe, and you’re welcome. And you’re not going back, are you?”

I smirked. “Nope. Suddenly I feel like a drink.”