Page 32 of Ruthless Serenade

Or at least, that’s what I tell myself to quiet the voice of conscience in the back of my mind. Because what I’m really doing is putting together a whole lot of smoke and mirrors to hide the fact that the company is on the brink of disaster.

But then again, this is not the first time I have to do this. And I’m not the only accountant that does such things. It’s common industry practice. I’m not lying about anything, just presenting the truth in the most favorable way. Isn’t that what we all do in the corporate world?

Suddenly, Maron Korolev comes to mind. What would he think of this little financial witchcraft?

"Miss Williams, this is unacceptable,"he’d say.

"But Mr. Korolev, this is just…"I’d try to reason with him, even though I’d know it’s as useless as arguing with a brick wall.

"Save it, Miss Williams."he’d bark, rudely interrupting me."It looks like you need a lesson in obedience. I need you on my office table without your panties, right now."

I shake myself, snapping my mind back into reality.

Jesus, Mindy, where did that come from?

I think of my little girl sleeping quietly in her room, in an attempt to muffle that tiny voice in my head. Too bad that tinyvoice isn’t having any of it. It just keeps growing louder and louder.

What if Sharon’s dad is alive?

What if he’s still out there, somewhere?

I shake myself once again. I really don’t know what’s happening with me or why these thoughts keep plaguing me. Even if by some miracle Maron Korolev is alive, it’s pointless to think about him. He’d contact me if he had any interest in reconnecting. I have to get him out of my head, and fast. I can’t let myself be distracted like this. I have a job to keep and a daughter to raise. A daughter who is ill and sleeping in her room as we speak.

I smile as I think of my baby girl and I can feel the tension seep from my body. Sharon is everything to me and always will be. I’ll do anything to protect her and I’ll give her anything she needs. The only thing I can’t give to her is her father.

Maron Korolev, the man I once loved.

Chapter Twelve

Mindy

The next day, I get to work five minutes later than usual.

Thankfully, Sharon had a restful night and she’s feeling much better. Tania joined us in the morning, and after consulting with a doctor, my worries eased. It seemed that Sharon had just eaten something that didn’t sit well with her stomach.

I rush into the office feeling out of breath and guilty for skipping the previous day. Christine is sitting at her desk, staring at the screen, seemingly ignoring me.

"I apologize for yesterday, Christine," I wheeze, trying to get my breath back. "It was an emergency. Won’t happen again. And I’ve made progress on the Asian market expansion report you asked for."

She coolly nods at me, her eyes glued to her laptop screen. "Emergencies will always happen, Mindy," she says without bothering to look up. "What about those Asian market figures?"

Really? No "is Sharon feeling better?" or something along those lines? Christine doesn’t ask a single question about what happened yesterday. On the contrary. The tone in her voice suggests that her words translate to “you’re fired if those numbers aren’t perfect.”

I swallow hard, keeping my voice professional. "Well, we’re still waiting for the final numbers from our Chinese partners," I explain, "but I’ve double-checked the Singaporean figures, and they look promising. I’m also following up with our team in Malaysia for additional insights. I should have the full report for you by the end of the week."

Christine finally looks up from her screen, but her expression is unreadable. "Make sure those numbers are accurate, Mindy. We can’t afford any mistakes at the end-of-year presentation."

I nod, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down on me. "Don’t worry, Christine. I'll make sure everything is perfect."

As I head to my desk, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m walking on very thin ice. One wrong move, one missed deadline, one more unplanned home office day, and I could lose the job that puts bread on the table for Sharon and me.

I dive into my daily work, but despite my diligent efforts, I find it difficult to focus on the zillions of tasks at hand. The numbers on my screen blur together, and I’m starting to worry that I might make mistakes. After an intense hour of forced focus, I make a quick escape to the restroom and call Tania for an update on Sharon’s condition.

"How is she doing?" I whisper urgently into the phone.

"Much better," Tania reassures me. "She had a nutritious lunch and even got to enjoy some strawberry ice cream afterward. We’re playing cards right now, and I’m fighting for my life!" Tania chuckles.

"Oh, good," I say, relieved. "Thanks so much, Tania. You’re a godsend."

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