Page 55 of Due Diligence

“You’re asking me to define the word ‘probably?’” I inquired, hoping to keep the situation light.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work, which was unsurprising. There was no levity when it came to Marcus and his company. He shook his head. “No, I’m asking you to tell me why you said it that way.”

“What way?”

“All—” Marcus waved his hand. “All doubtful. Something’s wrong, right? What’s wrong?”

Reluctantly, I held up both hands in an attempt to remind him that this was just a theory and by no means a fire drill. “I don’t know. I told you, it’s probably fine. I’m not an auditor—”

“But you have a background in financial management and accounting, so I’m inclined to listen to anything you say. What’s wrong with my ledgers?”

His words stoked an ember in me, which caught me off guard. Marcus’s unparalleled competence grew steadily sexier to me with each day. But hearing him express a deep respect for my own competence—I could have straddled his lap and ridden an orgasm out of both of us right then and there.

Mildly flustered, I stood, pushing my chair back from the table in the process. I walked around the table to the other side, where he followed me with his gaze. When I was next to him, I placed my laptop in front of him and bowed low so I could point to my screen.

As I leaned over his shoulder, he glanced to the side. My cheek was just a couple of inches from his face. I wasn’t positive, but I thought I caught him inhaling softly.

“See this?” I asked, gesturing to one of the ledgers.

Marcus redirected his attention to my laptop. “What about it?”

“This is the first of several recurring deposits to your main account, tagged under general funds.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Well, what are general funds?” I responded, forcing myself to speak slowly so as not to raise alarm bells. “Is that accounts receivable? Is that in-kind? Is it a gift? I have no idea. I just know that’s ambiguous.”

He frowned at the screen as he leaned closer, almost as though that would make the origin of the funds clearer.

“Do you have the receipts for these transactions?” I continued. “If we could track down the transactions, we might have all the answers we need.”

“Maybe,” he murmured. He raised his hand to his chin and drummed his index and middle fingers against his jawline—a gesture I now recognized as a sign he was concocting a processin his head. “I’ll need transactions and also outgoing expenses, which could tell me how we spent this money and if there was any earmarking. I’ll get Eli to help me check it out.”

“It’s a lot of money,” I pointed out, careful to keep my words measured. “Altogether, the grand total of these installments is in the tens of millions.”

“I’m sorry,what?”

“It’s around twenty-million,” I repeated. “You’ve really never noticed this?”

As he shook his head, the frown set into his face even further. His hand tightened into a fist—involuntarily, I assumed. “No, I hired a CFO so I would never have to.”

“Hm.” I stood up straight. My hand danced at my side, tempted to rest on his shoulder. It was a masterclass in restraint. “Well, I can email you the dates for the ledgers that include this kind of transaction and maybe you can talk it out with your CFO. Morgan, right?”

He nodded in confirmation. “Do you think the auditors will flag it?”

“Depends on the auditor sometimes. I would say the chances are probably somewhere in the middle.”

“Damn it,” he muttered. He leaned forward and put his face into his hands. He held that position for a few counts before he sat up and clenched his fist gently once.

“Hey.” I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder, abandoning restraint in the process. “Can I do anything for you?”

Soundlessly, Marcus nodded. “Sorry. I’m just…I’m under a lot of pressure right now.”

“I know.” I squeezed his shoulder. “But for the record, this is a clean due diligence process so far. Nothing to panic over.”

He breathed out slowly as he nodded his head. When he looked up at me, his expression shifted from anguish to relief. “Thanks,” he said after a beat. “I want it to stay that way.”

Just as I was about to assure him it would, the glass door to the conference room flung open and Alex strolled in. Immediately, Marcus and I both flinched and practically sprang apart. Marcus rolled his chair a foot away from the table, and I slid towards the brick wall.

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