Page 54 of Thorn Evermore

“Of course we do, but what if they’re taking it after it’s already bagged for deposit. The discrepancy is at the bank.”

“Well how would we know that?” Douglas asks.

“Jesus. Do I have to fill it all in for you both?”

“Apparently,” I answer. “Sorry we don’t think like thieves.”

Neal exhales slowly. “Hang around, make your presence known. Pay attention to anyone acting shifty or trying to be alone. It’s a start.”

“Okay,” Douglas says.

“Yeah, fine. I’ve always wanted to suspect my peers.”

“Comes with being a manager,” Neal says in a snippy tone. “Also, don’t say anything to anyone. It could tip them off.”

“What should we say the meeting was about?” Douglas asks. “You know they’ll ask.”

“Random initiatives.” He rubs his forehead. “Listen. I need to figure this out. It’s the thing that’s going to prevent me from getting my promotion.”

“Motivation for me,” I mumble.

I’m not sure he hears me, but Douglas does. He snickers. Fortunately, Neal ignores it.

“Can we go now?” I ask.

“Douglas can.”

I sigh as Douglas hustles out of the room. Lucky.

“Let me be very clear, Kyson,” Neal says as soon as Douglas is gone. “If this is some kind of retaliation on your part?—”

“What? Have you lost your mind? I love this store more than anything and especially more than any lingering memory of you.”

He studies me with narrowed eyes. “If I find out you’re sabotaging me…”

“You’ll what? Huh, Neal? And let’s think that through for a second. I can’t stand you. The best-case scenario for me is for you to get promoted.”

“Maybe that’s just what you say. You secretly hope I’ll take you back.”

The accusation leaves me too stunned to even laugh at how ridiculous it is. “If believing that helps you sleep at night, be my guest, but you’re so wrong. I’m seeing someone.” At least I hope I am.

Neal scoffs. “You think I believe for one second you bagged a guy like the one that was here?”

My face heats with humiliation and I push my glasses up my nose. “Think what you want.”

The door flies open and Thorn appears, his face a mask of anger. Douglas scurries behind him, yelling, “Sir, please, you can’t go back there.”

My jaw drops. “Thorn. What are you doing?”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Thorn asks, glaring at Neal.

“Hurt? No, I’m fine.”

“Is he treating you poorly?”

“Well, that’s a given,” I mumble, but apparently Thorn catches it.

“I’d like to speak to Neal alone,” Thorn says. “Wait up front for me, please.”

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