Chasing Frost by Isabel Jolie
Thirteen
Chase
I lean forward, studying the numbers. Something is not right. Then I slip on my glasses, the glasses I’m supposed to be wearing periodically throughout the day to reduce eye strain when viewing the computer. I look back to my folder with the originals sent over by our client. The numbers remain the same. $14 million in expenses is missing.
I’m not sure exactly what he’s done wrong, but the profit margin is substantially inflated.
I grab my desk phone, tap Garrick’s extension, and ask him to come into my office.
I’m not a micromanager. I try to give my team the same respect I want from my bosses. Trust that they’re doing a good job. But when it’s announced one of your clients is being acquired and you know due diligence is about to be hot and heavy, then I figure I’m doing him a favor by looking over his work. Not to mention, Sydney’s going to be all over this. While she hasn’t told me where she’s starting, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out South Fork Research will be a priority. Egg on face.
Garrick comes into my office with a frown. He’s never particularly happy, but this morning I can’t help but notice his hands are balled into fists like he’s looking for a fight. And he doesn’t have a notebook or any way to take notes.
I point at the chair across from my desk. “Take a seat.”
His chin juts out, and his posture is stiff. He’s defensive, and I haven’t said word one.
“I was going over quarterly reports and found some inconsistencies. I need you to review South Fork Research.”
“I’ve already delivered everything they need for the acquisition.”
“Without getting the okay from me?” Seriously, dude?
“You don’t normally ask for approval for me to respond to a client request.”
“Garrick, you have to see how this is different. They are being acquired by a public company.” He’s clutching those armrests so hard his fingers whiten. “Look, what’s done is done. But I know there are errors. They’ve incurred some losses on patents they purchased in the past few years that are not reflected. Also, some significant purchases of medical equipment that should be amortized are not reflected.”
“Losses in prior years.”
“Yes…but they’ve still got the carryover liability. Where is it? And these revenues are three times higher than the prior year. Something which was not present on the original docs they sent over. Look, go through the numbers. It’s not adding up. Here…here’s the file from last year.”
He reaches for the folder and holds it out like I’ve given him my sweaty gym clothes.
After flipping through the papers, he asks, “Where’d you get this?”
“I keep printed files of all originals. Look, I don’t have time to go through it myself. I’m in back to back meetings. But they are being purchased. We need to get this shit straight. All it would take is someone comparing this year to last year’s tax filing, and they’d suspect issues.” His face contorts. “Garrick, man, I know you’re the best at what you do, but everyone makes errors. I am telling you, we are missing some losses. And if I had to guess, something’s not right in some Excel fields on those revenues. Find the errors, before our new internal auditor does when she double checks your work, or worse, before it’s discovered in due diligence.”
He scowls. He’s on the scrawny side, but still, if I was out at a bar, I’d be backing up and giving him room. But we’re in my office, and he’s my employee, and the whole threatening look act isn’t going to fly. I sit in my chair and throw him my best I am the boss pose.
“My last meeting’s at five. Let’s plan to regroup then, and you can let me know what you’ve found.”
“Are you going through all my accounts?”
I wasn’t actually planning on going through all his accounts, but I sure as hell am now. I can’t tell if he’s trying to intimidate me with his gruff question or if he’s just pissed I found errors, but either way, his vibe doesn’t garner trust.
“Yes. Need I remind you, we have a new CIA? She’s going to be looking for errors on every account. That’s her job.” Having Sydney think less of me isn’t something I want, so I’d rather we find the errors.
He stands, lips in a flat line, one hand holding the folder I gave him and the other balled into a fist once again. What’s he gonna do? Pummel me? He’s normally quiet and focused on work. This is a different Garrick. But, then again, I’ve never questioned his work before.
He leaves my office without a word. I swivel the chair toward my computer. The reflection on the large monitor serves as a mirror. I’m wearing my With great beard, comes great responsibility shirt. I could definitely have picked a worse tee for today’s confrontation. The trouble with this one is I’m not currently sporting a beard, more like rough scruff, because I didn’t feel like shaving. This morning in the closet, my pick made sense, but at this moment my two-day growth is markedly inadequate.
Shit. If there’s any kind of sign like it’s gonna be a bad day, it’s when I find myself questioning my wardrobe choices. With perfect timing, Sydney herself taps on my doorframe. She’s smiling and clutching several binders to her chest.
Both my laptop and monitor are open to South Fork Research documents. In a flash, I click on different windows. You’d think I was looking at porn, I switch out of those docs so fast.
She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Yeah, she probably thinks I was looking at porn.
“Did you have a good rest of your weekend?”
“I did. You?” I swivel my chair in her direction.
“Let me guess…you spent the rest of the afternoon at the gym?”
I check the time. Three minutes until it’s time to head up for the first meeting of the day. She shifts her binders, and the black button-down blouse she’s wearing shifts too, exposing the slope of one breast. She’s dressed professionally, but there’s something about the form-fitting blouse and the way it hints at what’s beneath that lures me in. She makes a noise in her throat. Busted.
“Some at the gym. Went over for dinner at Anna and Jackson’s.”
“I like them.”
“Yeah, they’re good peeps.”
I gather what I need for my marathon meeting day. Other than a regularly scheduled lunch with Evan, I’m in back to back meetings. Sydney shifts again. There’s a pink hue to her complexion. It’s not hot in here. The AC is cranking.
“So, I don’t know if the offer still stands, but I’ve been thinking about that wedding…”
Holy shit balls. She’s going to go away with me for a weekend.
“What?” She tilts her head with her question, and one leg bends in a way that pulls her black slacks and highlights the curve of her ass. Her pose is demure-like, yet flirty. She reaches out and touches my forearm. Oh, yeah. “Why are you grinning like that?”
“You want to go with me to the wedding. Of course I’m grinning. You just made my day.”
“I mean, as friends.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“No, really, Chase. Friends. I’ll pay for my own room. Send me the information, and I’ll make my own reservations.”
“No way. You come as my guest, I’ve got it.” She huffs, and it’s adorable. She may play the Frost Queen game, but she came in here all on her own. I know what’s going on. And I have to say, I’m game.
I follow her out to the elevator where we meet up with Rhonda. The two ladies lead the way, which gives me a chance to fully appreciate Sydney’s rear in her black slacks, sans panty line.
As we head to the elevator bank, Sydney asks, “Any word on what Tom and Evan were fighting about?”
Rhonda answers, “No. Not yet. But definitely steer clear of the eighteenth floor. According to Pam, Tom hasn’t returned to the office yet.”
She gives me her ‘you poor boy’ look because she knows I can’t just steer clear. I’ve got not one, but two meetings up there today.
Fuck. With great beard comes great responsibility, indeed.