Page 21 of The Money Man
There was a pause as though he was thinking. “The car will be there at seven if that works for you.”
Since her plans for the rest of the day consisted of feeding the cats, matching a thousand charge slips to their listing on BalanceTrakR, and taking the self-defense class with Dawn, that would work for her. Any other time she would have regretted missing the self-defense class because Anthony, the fake attacker, was so cute. However, Derek was much cuter. “I’ll see you this evening,” she said.
“Great work,” Derek said, the admiration in his voice warming her.
She sat with the phone cradled in her hand for a few seconds, as though she could hold his compliment that way. A founding partner of an international consulting firm thought she was good at her job.
A very good-looking founding partner.
“Get a grip,” she muttered and dropped the phone on the desk. With a tingling sense of excitement, she picked up the first packet of charge slips and removed the rubber band. Somewhere in these little rectangles of paper lay a clue to the missing money and she couldn’t wait to find it.
Two hours later, the excitement had died down. So far the paper receipts matched the transaction list. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to rest on the chair’s back. The scrawled tips were especially difficult to decipher at times, and she wondered how the receptionist decided how much to key in. She’d gotten through about two-thirds of the little packets, which meant that finishing them would take another hour.
With a groan, she sat forward and opened her eyes, grabbing another bunch of receipts. She matched up the first ten. The eleventh made her blink. The handwriting was a little scrawled but perfectly clear. And it was $3.37 more than BalanceTrakR said it should be.
“Bingo!” she shouted, fists raised in the air. Audley bolted off the credenza where he’d been peacefully snoozing.
Except she still had no idea of what weird bug was living in the bowels of the software and eating a few dollars and cents from one transaction among thousands.
Thank goodness she had filled out that form on KRG’s website.
Alice walked up to the reception desk in the Manhattan skyscraper’s lobby, lugging the two large leather bags that contained her laptop and the Mane Attraction’s paperwork. The limo driver had offered to carry them in for her, but she decided that being driven into the city in the cocoon of the big, luxurious car was enough high living for a bookkeeper from New Jersey.
“I’m Alice Thurber, here to see Derek Killion at KRG,” she said, handing the night guard her driver’s license as requested. While the guard typed her name into the sleek computer, Alice admired the way the marble counter was highlighted by the blond wood paneling that soared up three stories behind it. Several huge ficus trees clearly enjoyed the sunlight that must pour through the sheet glass enclosing the space. KRG had chosen an impressive building for their main office.
The guard gave her back her license. “Elevator bank on the right. Floor twenty-three.”
As the elevator hummed upward, Alice scanned her wavy reflection in the polished chrome door. She had probably gone overboard by wearing her new gray suit but she wanted to project professionalism at KRG’s headquarters. Her black leather pumps had a low heel that her mother would have condemned as dowdy but they were comfortable to walk in. In a decision Alice considered daring, she’d chosen a pale pink silk blouse. Of course, underneath all the business attire, she had slipped on a lacy pink bra and panties but that would remain her secret.
She drew in a breath in an effort to quell the anticipation vibrating through her.
She tried to convince herself that it was about finding the answer to her problem, but the truth was more complicated. Yes, she was somewhat nervous about meeting the legendary Leland Rockwell and asking him to put his high-tech resources at her disposal for a mere $3.37.
However, the flutter in her stomach and the fizz of excitement were caused by the thought of seeing Derek again. Was he really as good-looking as she remembered him? Her dreams had probably exaggerated his attributes, especially when she imagined him in a Regency gentleman’s attire of tight buckskin trousers, a fitted hunting coat, and an impeccably tied cravat.
Her doubts evaporated when the elevator doors slid open to reveal KRG’s reception area, a sleekly modern room styled in shades of taupe and blue. Derek was crossing the cerulean carpet toward her in full stride, a smile lighting his face. Her breath whooshed right out of her.
“Alice,” he said, his baritone warm and welcoming. “Thank you so much for coming into the city.”
She stumbled out of the elevator as her gaze roved over the perfectly fitted navy-blue suit he wore. It accentuated the breadth of his shoulders, the slimness of his hips, and the length of his legs just as effectively as any Regency duke’s riding clothes.
“Let me carry those,” he said, lifting the two bags from her unresisting grip without any indication of their significant weight. “Curiosity has been tormenting me ever since you called. I guess I shouldn’t have dismissed the idea of checking the credit card transactions.”
She was lost in the silvery depths of his eyes as he opened a glass door and held it for her, his smile still keeping the dimple in evidence. Something about that single dimple throwing the perfection of his face just slightly out of symmetry made him all the more gorgeous, maybe because it made him look real, not plastic.
“Are you exhausted from checking all those credit card slips?” he asked as his smile faded to a look of concern.
She realized she hadn’t managed to say a word since she first saw him. “It was tedious and my eyesight is a little blurry,” she said. “But I’m psyched that I found the error.”
He stopped and gestured her through a door into a conference room where a wall of windows displayed the glittering lights of midtown Manhattan. “Nice view,” she said before noticing that a man stood by the conference table. “I’m sorry. I’m Alice Thurber.”
“I guessed as much. I’m Leland.” His voice held the soft southern accent she’d heard over the phone as he came forward with his hand outstretched. When she shook it, she took in the computer genius. Except for his sneakers, worn jeans, and maroon T-shirt, he was not what she’d expected. In fact, his clothing was at odds with his neatly trimmed brown hair, his stylish tortoiseshell glasses, and his thin, aristocratic face. He looked like a preppy trying to slum it. “Delighted to meet you.”
“A pleasure,” she said before sitting in the cushy leather chair Derek had pulled out for her after he had set her bags on the polished wood table. Leland slid into a seat where two laptops stood, already open. Despite his lean build, his shoulders spanned the back of the capacious chair.
“Would you like something to drink?” Derek asked. “Coffee? Tea? Something stronger after all your work?”
“Water is fine,” Alice said, noticing the aroma of fresh coffee drifting through the air. She traced it to a mug sitting by Leland’s laptops.
