Page 49 of The Merger
I snapped out of the memory. “If I recall, that was how we ended up getting champagne and strawberries sent up to our suite as a gift from the hotel.”
Straightening up, I smoothed down my jacket. “You’re right though. It’s not the right place. I’m in the mood to set things straight, so after we leave here, we’re evicting your sister from your apartment.”
She flopped back and crossed her arms. “Of course. I’m probably cramping your style at the hotel.”
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes at her, I paused at the door. “We will be discussing that comment later. Right now I have a misogynist to fire.”
“Jeffries, a word,” I barked and moved toward his office. I didn’t look back to make sure he was following me. I knew he would.
I stepped into his office and waited. It only took him a few seconds to enter behind me. “I have my lawyer on speed dial,” he warned and waved around his phone.
I shrugged. “Do it. Ask them what the standard penalty is when an employee commits an act of sexual harassment.”
He sputtered. “Please, what I said was hardly that bad. Maxwell would have asked her if she had a gag reflex. Besides, you’d have to prove it.”
I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “You mean the office full of employees who have a habit of loitering in the greeting area? Something like that?”
He grinned and I fought a shudder. I hoped in the next thirty years I had someone in my life who would tell me if my spray tan turned me orange and my teeth had been bleached so white they burned the retinas of your eyes. Better yet, I hoped I had someone who wouldn’t let me do either of those things to start with.
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but the staff hates you,” he gloated.
Hate seemed like a strong word, but considering it was Tuesday afternoon and no one had seen my secretary yet this week, it might be the correct one.
“They don’t hate me,” Sabrina said from just outside the office, causing me to jump.
Sabrina slipped into the room, and casually leaned against the door jam. She examined her nails as if she didn’t care at all about the results of this conversation. “Now tell me, how many of the women out there will have something to say about you for themselves? One story might be ignored, but add on to that and you’ve got a pattern of behavior. Judges have a much harder time overlooking those.”
Jeffries’ shoulders slumped. “Is the retirement package still part of the deal?”
I opened my mouth to tell him if he left quietly then jail wouldn’t be included, but he was insane if he thought I was going to sign off on him getting his pension after sexually harassing my wife. Sabrina must have sensed I was about to overshare because she put her hand on my arm and stepped in front of me.
“I’d say that depends on you and what you know,” she began.
His chin started to lift, but he must have realized how screwed he was because he lowered it back down. “I’m not saying anything about Maxwell.”
I held my arms out to the sides. “Look around. He isn’t here. He isn’t coming to save your job. His mismanagement of the company is why I’m here in the first place.”
Jeffries turned his attention to Sabrina. “What would you like to know?”
She tossed a piece of paper on the desk. Then she pulled a framed painting off the wall and revealed a safe. “It’s so predictable it’s boring. So how about we cut to the chase? I’m willing to bet there’s a thumb drive, or maybe a disk in there with a ledger containing figures that will match all the losses the accountant found missing from each of the struggling departments.”
“Open it,” I said in a low threatening voice.
He jumped and hurried to the safe.
“Combination,” I demanded so we could get back in.
“36-18-8,” he mumbled as he spun the tumbler to each of those numbers.
The mechanism clicked when it unlocked and the door creaked as he opened it. I shouldered him out of the way and removed a leather bound accounts ledger.
“I should have bet money it would be a book.” Sabrina flipped through it, stopped on a page, and set it down on the desk.
She stabbed her finger down on one line of the ledger. Then she slapped down the print off next to it. “If you can tell us why the same amounts missing from this report are recorded here in this ledger from your office, deposits to a numbered account from the looks of it, then maybe we can discuss the possibility of you keeping your retirement account.”
“I looked you up,” he said, ignoring her demand. “You have a degree in Marketing. I believe Event Management was your specialty.”
“Your point?” Sabrina asked.