Page 51 of Dirty Intentions

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.

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