Page 55 of Dirty Intentions

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It wasn’t until four o’clock in the morning that we cleared every room. I was on my second Red Bull and Max had gone straight for black coffee. Even Heather was uncharacteristically quiet while she wiped down the bar and put the last few things away.

Housekeeping had started their impossible task of cleaning up every room, and my security detail was due to change over in another hour. In all, it had been a good party, but I was over the holiday season and all its festivities. Thankfully, we wouldn’t have another one until summer. Tomorrow would be a fairly quiet day, and I looked forward to spending the night with Daniella. Knowing it would be our last night was leaving me restless. I reasoned it was because it was time to start getting back to normal. Put the holidays behind me and get back into the routine of things.

Speaking of which, I had a show on Friday night with a performer by the name of Donna Starr who’d be in town one night. I’d been with her before. She was spectacular at putting on a show, and I should be looking forward to it. The woman could suck a penny through a fifty-foot hose. Yet the thought of someone other than Daniella on her knees in front of me left me uninspired.

Crap. What was with this girl? Luckily, I had one more night to fuck her out of my system. Then she’d be back to her life, and I’d be back to mine. All I needed was some separation to get her off my mind.

I sent Max home to get some sleep while I prepared to make it an all-nighter. I’d catch a nap later if I got too tired.

***

Daniella

I brought coffee in for Max, Shane, and myself. They had to be even more exhausted than I was this morning. Knowing Shane, he probably hadn’t slept at all.

I’d stayed up late looking at the delivery sheets from Joe’s bar, attempting to match up the liquor types with quantities. Unfortunately, the amounts told a confusing story. It seemed Travesty was not getting the better deal. It might have made sense if Joe’s bar had more inventory. Then it would be understandable they’d be getting a better discount than the club. But judging from the slips and what had arrived at the club earlier today, we should have been the ones getting the bigger discount. Furthermore, numbers weren’t adding up. One case of Patron, for example, should contain four bottles. Yet it appeared we were being charged for ten. Same with the Grey Goose. And that was just on the stuff we had in common with Joe’s place. I knew for a fact that Travesty stocked some premium Scotch at four hundred dollars a bottle and some champagne worth the same. The sports bar wouldn’t. By the time I was done estimating, I calculated an approximate discrepancy of between three to five thousand dollars per delivery. If I multiplied that times twice a week, it could be like sixty thousand a month, if not more. The numbers corresponded with the loss I’d been looking for, but unfortunately, I had no absolute proof. Just a hunch to dig further for it.

If I stayed for Thursday’s order, that would provide the proof. And what was one more day, really? I was sure when I explained this to Shane and Max they’d be just as anxious as I to see if Heather was stealing.

I was right about Shane pulling an all-nighter. This was evident when he came up the stairs a few minutes after I’d arrived. “You look tired.”

“I am. And you look like you’ve been busy.”

I had paperwork spread out all over the desk, attempting to paint the picture I wanted to share with both him and Max. “I am. Here, I got you coffee. One for Max, too.”

“He’s catching a few hours but will be back soon. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“Everything okay from last night?”

“Yeah. Just busy. I’ll be glad to get back to normal.”

I had to bite my lip, wondering if part of the ‘abnormal’ had to do with me. “Definitely. Uh. So I think I’ve found your discrepancy, but I’d rather wait for Max to be here in order to discuss it.”

“Did I hear my name?” A bleary-eyed Max came out the elevator doors.

I smiled and handed over a coffee. “You did. Here.”

“You’re a saint, Daniella. Thanks.”

“Is, uh, Heather around?” The last thing I wanted to do was have this conversation if she could walk up or overhear it.

“Nope,” Max remarked. “She’s off today. Will be in Thursday morning, though. Why?”

“Well, actually, one of the things I wanted to talk to you about is coming in on Thursday for the delivery. I’d like for both of you to be there, too.”

“Why?” Shane asked sharply.

“Because Thursday would show—”

“You said tomorrow was your last day. Whatever you have today is what we’ve got. And what does it have to do with Heather?”

I tried to fight the hurt that he didn’t want me here even for one extra day. “The invoice slips from Joe at Libations Bar and Grill, coming from the same distributor you use, showed what I’ve been missing from our invoices: the quantity per box. Now obviously, their pricing can be different, depending on the deal. For instance, a box of Patron normally comes in a box of four, but you’re being charged for a box of ten if I’m doing an average wholesale price per bottle.”

“What the hell are you saying, Daniella?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m saying I think Heather is stealing from you. And she has someone in the distributor’s office or on the delivery truck helping her.”

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