Page 13 of Sever
At least he’s neat.
I start to comb through the first one, making spreadsheets and organizing the information, and as everything starts to slot into place, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. It’s the main reason I went into accounting; numbers make sense. Even when life is a mess and nothing else seems right, numbers can be slotted into patterns and boxes. There is no interpretation.
My cell rings and I look down to see that it's the office. “Hello?”
“Ms. Hendrix.” My heart dips a little at the sound of Mr. Duncan’s voice. “How is everything coming along?”
“It’s going well. I'm inputting all of the business information into the computer now. I’ve started to go over the club accounts, though, and a number of deposits aren't equaling the amount on the books. I'm about to double-check the receipts to see where the numbers are being miscalculated.”
“That’s why I’m calling. There is no ‘miscalculation.’ The club is paying us an extra fee to make sure of that, if you know what I mean. We need to make sure that everything matches up.” His voice is even-toned, like he didn't just ask me to alter documents and fudge numbers.
I don't know how to respond. My mind goes blank . . . well, except for a vivid recollection of the ethics class I took in college. I should say no. This isn't right. But I want to advance my career, and I get the feeling that if I don't do it, someone else will. “I’m sure there are a few receipts I missed somewhere,” I respond, feeling deflated and defeated.
“Be sure to find them.” The line clicks in my ear.
I scrub my face in frustration.
Can I really do this?
The door opens and Ryder walks in. “You need anything?”
I glance over at him. I need a lot, but I can't have any of it. I need to find a way to forget my past with him. I need to learn how to forget the feeling of having someone invade every inch of my soul. I need to remember how hard it was for me when he left, and force myself to stay away from him. I need to breathe, but right now it feels like everything is closing in on me.
In lieu of saying all that, I go with, “I'm fine.”
His studies me as he stands in front of the desk, his eyes sweeping over me in a way that I feel all over. I look away, trying to figure out how the hell I can accomplish what I'm supposed to. I'm still amazed that Mr. Duncan has asked me to do this, like it was no big deal, as if he didn't just instruct me to commit a crime.
“You want to grab a bite on your lunch?”
I look up at him. His hands are braced on the desk, his strong eyes focusing on me making me freeze in place. It amazes me how much different the man in front of me is from the boy I used to know.
“I brought something.” I continue to work on the computer silently, begging him to walk away.
I can feel him staring at me and it takes everything inside of me not to react. There is a moment or two of uncomfortable silence before I hear the heavy fall of his footstep and the slamming door echoes through the office. I pull out my phone and send a message to Chrissy.
Me: I don’t think I can do this. I can’t be here.
Chrissy: Bullshit. This is what you want, it’s a means to an end. Don’t let that asshole take this from you.
Me: You don’t understand. Being this close to him. It’s bringing everything back.
Chrissy: Good, make sure it brings back the memories of what he did to you, how you felt. He won last time, it’s your turn.
I know she’s right.
I can't let Ryder ruin this chance for me.
He can’t ruin everything . . . again.
