Maggie taught Nevvie well in the early weeks. It wasn’t difficult, mostly keeping project files up to date. Nevvie learned data entry and basic bookkeeping when working for the hotel in New Orleans, in line for more training and a promotion when Katrina hit. She’d had a knack for it and enjoyed it.
Nevvie’s primary duties at Kinsey Consulting consisted of data entry, updating project notes with billing and invoice information, reports, permitting issues and deadlines, and related tasks. Originally split between several departments, Thomas used Maggie’s departure to restructure and streamline procedures as she’d begged him to for years.
Thomas and Nevvie rode the Harley to work many mornings if the weather looked good. In front of others he acted friendly, but professional, with her.
In private he playfully teased Nevvie, not that she minded. She played his jibes and sexual innuendoes back to him without hesitation, creating a pleasant undercurrent in their relationship.
On a Friday morning, Nevvie studied a pile of invoices for the GDK building project while updating the records and comparing them to the billing memos. Something wasn’t right. She didn’t know what, but something niggled at her intuition. As Tyler had drilled into her, never ignore your intuition.
She pulled up records for another project and studied the invoices, comparing the sub-contractors and suppliers. There were three different suppliers used for the GDK job that weren’t used for the other project. She tried another job site. Then another.
When she found a job site using those same three suppliers, she dug deeper into the project notes and found another similarity—Bruce Geller was the project manager.
She audited all of Geller’s projects for the past six months and found in every case the same three companies appeared. Even more odd, the invoices were for different services or supplies, but nearly the same dollar amounts every time. Always totaling around ten thousand per project. Each company with a P.O. box instead of a physical address, and at the same Zip Code, meaning the same post office.
None of the other project managers used them.
When Thomas returned from his meeting, Nevvie asked him into her office and closed the door. She knew Bruce Geller was a long-time employee, and what she proposed wasn’t good.
“What’s wrong, Nevvie?” He settled across the desk from her.
“How did you know something’s wrong?”
“You look sick to your stomach. Spill it, baby girl.”
“I need to ask you about these three suppliers.” Nevvie showed him the project expenditure sheets she’d printed and pointed to the highlighted items. He frowned, studying them.
“You need to tell me what you think. I trust you.”
“I could be wrong. I don’t know this business like you do, but there’s a weird pattern.” She pointed out Geller’s other projects. “No other project manager uses these three suppliers. Every job Geller manages, these invoices appear in some combination, always totaling ten thousand.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“I’m not saying he’s doing anything wrong,” she hastily added. “It could be a freaky coincidence, or a legitimate expense.”
“He bought a brand new boat last month, Nev. Told me they inherited some money. His wife doesn’t work.” He looked at the papers. “Shit.”
“Tell me I’m wrong, Tom.”
He shook his head, his face grim. “I can’t, because I don’t think you are.”
“Wouldn’t Maggie have caught this?”
“No. She’d spot obvious things, but this wasn’t obvious before we changed stuff around. Especially since she was one of several people sharing the duties. She’d have no reason to think Geller would cheat us or that those weren’t legitimate expenses. He probably spread them around to different people. If we didn’t question them at the project level, accounting wouldn’t have a reason to question them.”
He made a call on his cell, asked someone to meet him in his office immediately. When he finished he turned to her. “Make back-ups of everything. Go into the server, lock his projects down, and do a back-up, right now, in case the son of a bitch tries to delete stuff. Then get me copies of all the print outs. I want listings of all his current projects and billables, including outstanding invoices. As soon as you get the other stuff ready, bring it to my office. Come on in, I’ll be there.”
“Okay.” This wasn’t easy-going Tommy, the man who soothed her out of nightmares, took her to hockey games, or carried her on the back of his Harley. This was Thomas Kinsey, architect, and a very pissed man. From the hard set of his jaw she knew someone was getting an ass chewing—and most likely a trip to jail.
He started for the door then turned and kissed her. “Thank you, sugar” he whispered. “You’re the best.”
Unable to speak, she simply nodded.
Nevvie walked into his office thirty minutes later with everything he requested. Six men and two women sat at the conference table. She hadn’t met Geller in person, but she’d be willing to bet he was the nervous-looking man at the head of the table.
Thomas waved her in. “For those of you who haven’t met her yet this is Nevaeh Barton, my personal assistant.” She handed Thomas the papers and he motioned for her sit behind his desk. “She took over for Maggie. Today she discovered something disturbing and brought it to my attention.”
Thomas thumbed through the paperwork as he circled the conference table, stopping by the nervous man. “Bruce, can you explain this?” Thomas laid out copies of the records.
Nevvie watched the man’s face. He blinked and licked his lips, but shook his head. “Tom, you know we go through so much I can’t keep track in my head—”
Thomas slammed his fist on the table. Everyone else jumped, startled by his uncharacteristically angry display. “How long have you been false billing the company?” he shouted.
Nevvie realized she’d been the only one who didn’t jump.
Because I’m not afraid of him.
Geller stammered and tried to lie his way out of it. When the man dared shoot a nasty look Nevvie’s way, Thomas immediately put himself between her and Geller.
“Don’t you fucking look at her, you goddamned thief. This isn’t her fault. This is you getting your ass caught. I trusted you, you son of a bitch!”
“How do you know she didn’t make those up? Awful funny you get a new helper and suddenly I’m a bad guy. C’mon, Tommy, you’ve known me for years.”
Nevvie watched as Thomas clenched his fists. She thought back to the morning of the fight with Alex, when she wanted to sling the dishes at him to defend her boys.
Please don’t hit him, Tom. He’s not worth it.
Thomas finally turned from Geller. “Cal, escort him straight to his car, get his keys, his ID badge, everything. He’s not allowed back in the building.”
Geller turned red. “What?”
“You’re fired. I’ll go through your desk and box up any personal items and ship them to you. You’re not setting foot in this building again. I suggest you get an attorney. You’re going to need one.”
Cal stood and motioned to Geller, who started handing over items. Then Cal escorted him from the room. Thomas looked at the others, talked with them for a few minutes, and then excused all but two men. When the door closed, Thomas sat where Cal had been, near the head of the table, and motioned for Nevvie to take Geller’s seat.
Now she felt nervous. She hesitantly sat.
Thomas reached over and patted her hand. “Nevvie, this is Mike, and you’ve already met Kenny.” She nodded, still uncomfortable being the center of attention. “Mike’s our accountant. I need you to work with him on this, help him with the audits, track how long this has been going on and see if it’s happening elsewhere.”
“Sure, Mr. Kinsey.”
“It’s okay, sugar. Around these two guys you don’t need to be formal. They’re friends.”
She relaxed. “Okay, whatever you need me to do, Tommy.”
“You’re the fi
rst person who had all the information readily available to see the big picture and pick up on it. Geller used that to his advantage all these years. We may have to borrow you from Tyler an extra day or two a week for a while.”
“He won’t mind.”
Thomas winked. “I’m sure he won’t.”
* * * *
They were the last two in the office. Nevvie assumed that after the day’s events they would work late. Thomas stuck his head in her door around seven. “Ready to blow this joint?”
She smiled then blushed, her comment bit back before she could utter it.
He grinned. “Blow something, huh, sweetie?”
She laughed. “How do you do that?”
“Because you and I are both twisted. Let’s go. I already called Tyler to meet us for dinner.” When she stood, he pulled her to him.
“Seriously, you were great today. I mean, I know it wasn’t the best of circumstances. I’m sorry if I scared you when I lost my temper.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t scare me, Tom.” She wanted to kiss him. So close, so sweet.
As if sensing her thought he brushed his lips against hers. Nevvie fought the urge to drive her tongue into his mouth.
“I’m glad I didn’t scare you. I don’t ever want to scare you. That would break my heart.” He gave her one more hug and carried her helmet. “Let’s go. Don’t want to keep Ty waiting.”
She followed him and he stowed her purse in the saddlebag while she donned her gear. He turned before swinging onto the bike, his helmet already on. She couldn’t tell if his voice sounded different or was just muffled by the helmet.
“I love it when you ride with me, sugar.”
“Me too. Any excuse to cop a feel of your abs, Tom.”
He roared with laughter, cut off by the sound of the bike’s engine firing to life. When he had it running and balanced she swung up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle. She patted him, their signal she was ready, and off they rode.
* * * *
Tyler stood outside Outback Steakhouse with a table beeper in hand. He grinned when they walked up and gave Nevvie a hug. “I hear our girl was magnificent today.”
“I was doing my job, Tyler.”
He kissed Thomas. “Is she being modest?”
“Very. It looks like well over a hundred grand, and we haven’t audited previous years.” He shook his head, looking grim. “I still can’t believe it.”
The hostess showed them to a corner booth and Nevvie enjoyed sitting between her boys, comfortable with them, enjoying their easy rapport. She never sensed any unease from the men. In fact, if she tried to give them time alone it wasn’t unusual for them to draw her back into their tight triad of effortless friendship, like they’d known each other forever. A gentle ebb and flow, always in flux, but in perfect harmony with both.
She gave up trying to refuse when they bought her anything. It was far easier to let them spoil her. She didn’t know how much they were worth, but they took obvious pleasure in pampering her, so why not? It’s not like they couldn’t pay their light bill.
After dinner they made their way to the parking lot. Thomas paused at the bike. “Did you want to ride home with Tyler?”
She held up her hands. “Oh no you don’t. Don’t you guys dare ever make me choose.”
Tyler smiled and looked at Thomas then held out a closed fist. “Odds or evens?”
Thomas extended his fist. “Odds.”
“Best two out of three, right? One, two, three, shoot!”
Nevvie watched, amused, as the men played “Odds and Evens” to win the right to take her home. Thomas won, triumphantly hugging her. “Ha! I still get a little time alone with her.”
Tyler grinned. “Ah, but in all fairness I should get to kiss her goodbye.”
Jesus! Was he kidding?
Apparently not, because before she could respond Tyler grabbed her and planted one on her lips.
Thomas laughed. “You’re right, Ty, fair’s fair.”
Tyler let her go and she staggered slightly on her feet, breathless.
Clueless. Totally oblivious dumb fucks, both of them.
It didn’t matter they were gay, they were still men and completely unaware of what they did to her.
“You all right, sugar?” Thomas’ brown eyes wickedly gleamed.
She nodded and pulled on her helmet before she said something stupid like, “Can I give you a blow job now?”
Tyler kissed Thomas and patted him on the ass. “I’ll follow you home, sweet. Be careful.” Tyler tapped her face shield and winked. “You all right, love?”
She mutely nodded, his blue eyes burning a trail straight from her heart to her lower belly.
Chapter Thirteen
Two days later, Tyler was deep in his writing when his publicist, Elliot Paterno, called.
“Hi, Nevvie. He’s all set for the New York writer’s conference in two weeks.” She noted the information. She’d be going with him on this trip. Tyler had already cleared her calendar with Thomas.
“Week before Halloween, that should be interesting.” She’d never met Elliot in person but had talked to him on the phone several times.
“Yeah, the theme conferences are always a blast. Oh, one more thing. What kind, and how many rooms? I blocked out two.”
She glanced at Tyler’s closed office door, her heart racing. “Single room, one queen bed will be fine.”
“Got it.”
She hung up. It was sneaky, it was underhanded.
It was done.
* * * *
She stood quietly at Tyler’s side at the check-in desk. The hotel was full, and he’d just discovered the rooming arrangement.
“You don’t mind bunking together?”
She smiled. “Do you really have to ask?”
“I suppose not, darling.” Once in their room, Tyler called Thomas and chatted briefly, then handed her the phone and went to freshen up.
Thomas’ deep chuckle set her insides stirring. “A reservation screw-up, hmm?” Nevvie blushed and tried to fumble an answer. “Sugar,” he murmured, “feel free to screw up my reservations any time you want.”
She took the risk. “Next time, I will.”
His laugh warmed her heart. “I hope to hell so.”
If her boys weren’t so damned sexy…
Maybe this was a bad idea. Now she was horny.
* * * *
They ate dinner in the hotel restaurant. Next door at the bar the music throbbed, but the crowd hadn’t thickened. Taking her hand, Tyler led her to the doorway where she balked.
“I don’t drink, Tyler. You know that.”
He pulled her to him. “But you are a fantastic dancer.”
Tyler led her into the bar and left her standing at the edge of the nearly-empty dance floor. He spoke with the DJ, then pulled a bill from his pocket and handed it to the man. Tyler walked to the middle of the floor and motioned Nevvie to him as the song changed.
She couldn’t refuse him. Glad she’d opted to wear a skirt and low heels to dinner instead of slacks, she walked over and met his eyes as she took his hand. His other hand skimmed her side, coming to rest at her waist.
“Mambo,” he whispered. She fell in step with him, not thinking about the moves, letting him lead.
The song ended to scattered applause. She started to pull away but Tyler didn’t release her hand.
“Rumba,” he whispered. Without will of her own she fell into step, under his spell as another song started. This was the connection she didn’t have with Thomas, a hotline to the epicenter of her soul.
Her heart raced, not from their dance but from the heat between them. She didn’t hold back, flipping her hips and pretending he was her lover, not her friend.
As the song finished she ended in his arms, her head on his shoulder. The audience cheered, hooting their approval.
She finally straightened and looked at him. He held up a finger. “One more,” he silently mouthed and she n
odded, helpless. She couldn’t refuse him if she tried.
The audience saw and went wild. A larger crowd had gathered, perhaps drawn by the applause. She blushed but didn’t look away from Tyler’s eyes.
He didn’t tell her what they were dancing. He didn’t have to. She read it in his heated gaze.
Nevvie took his hand and set her feet, deciding to play it back to him for all she was worth. Her steamy, sexy cha cha cha was for him and no one else. The audience cheered their approval as she spun around the floor with him. At one point he pulled her close after a spin, and she knew she didn’t imagine the hard bulge pressed against her hip.
At the end of the dance she gripped his hand and silently dared him to let go. He pulled her to him and kissed her, long and deep, greedily devouring her. For an agonizing moment she refused to let reality into her mind and buried her hand in his hair, eagerly kissing him back.
The audience exploded in wild applause and catcalls, asking for more.
He finally ended their embrace and slipped his arm around her waist, leading her to the hotel elevators.
Neither spoke. When the elevator door slid shut he pulled her to him.
“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice hoarse, “I have to ask you to trust me that when we step out of this elevator, we leave the dance behind us. For tonight.”
She fought her tears but nodded. He pulled her to him and kissed her, his tongue gently stroking hers.
Then he held her, his lips hot against her neck. “Tonight is not the night for this. I promised you anything, but you must have faith in me.”
When the elevator opened, Tyler took Nevvie’s hand and led her to their room without further words. The mini bar carried a wide variety of alcohol and the well-supplied snack bar had a coffee maker and hot tea. He fixed her a mug of chamomile tea generously laced with bourbon. After she changed into a T-shirt and sleeping shorts he laid with her, holding her and nuzzling the back of her neck.
Nevvie felt its magic almost immediately. He knew her so well. She would sleep tonight. Not sure if he would, but at least she could dance with him through her dreams.