Page 33 of The Hanukkah Hook-Up

She rose shakily to her knees, shifting her balance to move off of him. He stilled her, hands stroking up her thighs. “It’s not your fault. Any misappropriation or falsification on his part…”

Was now his family’s company’s problem.

“How much are we talking about? And why didn’t you report it?”

She batted his hands away. “Does it really matter how much at the end of the day? What’s a drop in the bucket to companies like yours could be someone else’s entire nest egg.”

This time, she did spring up, catapulting herself off the bed. She hastily piled plates, gathered their mugs. “Try two dozen nest eggs! And I did report it. I went right to the top: your grandfather. He never replied.”

She left him sitting stunned in the middle of her bed. Trying to process.

Take care of Britesmith.

As if those words hadn’t been cryptic enough, now everything felt tinged with a double meaning. Had his grandfather known? His uncle?

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Problem apparently solved. Even if our year-end bonuses helped take the brunt of it.”

Cut twenty-seven by year-end.

Just a number.

Now it was Alex’s turn to feel like crap. For what he was about to say.

“It does still matter. I’m pretty sure it’s the reason I’m here, Nora.”

ChapterThirteen

Bulletproof Nora was back, standing in the doorway. His flannel in her hand.Okay then.If she was going to send him on his way, he may as well lay all the cards on the table. She would know exactly what to expect, as People Operations Officer, come tomorrow morning.

“I was sent to reduce your staff by half.”

“By Hedstrom?”

“No. He doesn’t know.” He approached her. “That I know of. Unless he and my uncle…it doesn’t matter, because I’m not planning to do it. Not their way, anyway.”

Nora gave him a long stare. Then tossed him his flannel. “Then I know exactly where we are going today.”

“Another custom New Yorker tour for the Hayseed?”

“Something like that.”

She turned on her heel and marched toward the bathroom, discarding his T-shirt along the way and leaving him with the glorious view of her panties-clad ass before the door slammed shut and the shower hissed on.

He took it he was not invited.

Scrubbing a hand over his mouth, he collected his clothes and got dressed. Tried not to think of her naked and twenty-feet away. Did the dishes. Tried not to think of the penalties for IRS fraud.

Use your head.For once, he didn’t give Uncle Marty’s words the mental middle finger. He would look at all the facts before jumping to any conclusions. There was nothing he could do until Monday morning – the day he was supposed to arrive at Britesmith in the first place.

* * *

Nora rubbed steam off the mirror and contemplated herself, post-leap. She had followed Eli’s advice, and wasn’t sure where it had gotten her. But one thing she knew for a fact: hiding out in bed with Alex Beckman was not a viable solution for the day. Not after the bomb he just dropped.

Was it coincidence that Beck had been sent to chop heads? And roughly the same number as those impacted by Hedstrom’s dirty little secret?

She laid out a clean towel and found a spare toothbrush. Hospitality was never far from her mind, in all its shapes and forms. “All yours,” she called, and went to get dressed.

They hit 46thStreet. Nora made a point of detouring into Times Square, just enough for Beck to realize that the heart of Broadway beat straight through to the veins of its narrower surrounding streets. And even if you didn’t recognize the names on all the marquees, they were lit just as bright…even on a Sunday afternoon.

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