I take a sip of my water, and my stomach gargles. When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t feeling well, so I skipped breakfast, but now I think I’m feeling sick from not eating. I briefly wonder if maybe I’m coming down with something.
Needing a break from staring at the screen, I make myself some toast and coffee, but the second the Keurig begins to brew and the scent hits my nostrils, my stomach roils, and I end up in the bathroom with my face down in the toilet.
“Savy?” Brody calls out. “You okay?”
“Yeah! I think I have a stomach bug. You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” He steps into the doorway. “Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m going to take a quick shower. Can you text your dad and ask him if he can bring dinner home? I don’t think I’ll be up for cooking.”
“Yeah, sure.”
After I take a shower and throw on some comfy pajamas, I head back out to the couch to go over the numbers again. I’m in the middle of running them again when a wave of nausea hits me, and I wonder if it’s the stress of what I’m going to have to tell Ben that’s making me sick.
“Dammit, this can’t be right,” I mutter to myself.
“What can’t be right?” a masculine voice asks, making me jump.
“You’re home early.”
Ben smirks. “I am, and I’ve brought food”—he holds up a pizza box—“and roses for my beautiful fiancée.” Butterflies warm my belly as I take in the pizza and gorgeous pink flowers in an elegant glass vase. “You were so caught up in whatever you were doing, you didn’t notice me come in.” He drops the pizza onto the table and sets the flowers down, then comes over to sit on the couch next to me, pulling me into his arms. “I missed you today.” He brushes his lips against mine. “It was weird going all day without you.”
“You probably shouldn’t be this close to me,” I warn. “I think I’m coming down with something.”
“Yeah, Brody texted me that you were throwing up.” He smirks. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Thank you for the flowers.”
“You’re welcome.” He glances around. “Where’s Brody?”
“In his room.”
He nods then kisses me harder, making me moan. His tongue darts into my mouth, the scent of cinnamon hitting my senses. I gag slightly and back up.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern etching his features.
“I think I’m a little… or a lot nervous to talk to you, and my body is reacting to the stress.”
His brows come together. “Does it have something to do with what you were intently focusing on when I got home?”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “I spent the day sorting out your books, and…” I take a deep breath. “Ben, I’ve run the numbers several times, and you weren’t wrong. You’re missing a lot of money. Several thousand.”
“So my dad messed up…”
“No, he didn’t mess up.” And this is what I’ve been dreading telling him. “He was stealing from the company.”
Ben’s face jerks back like he’s been smacked. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”
“I started going through the books for Lush, New York, but in doing so, I found several errors that didn’t make sense. So, to double-check them, I had Owen send me the information for your other properties.”
“You called one of my employees behind my back?”
“I didn’t want to have to tell you what I suspected until I knew for sure. You’ve taken your dad’s death so hard and—”
“Of course I’ve taken his death hard,” he barks. “He was my dad, my only parent left, and now he’s gone.”
“I know,” I say, trying to remain calm, but my emotions are getting the best of me, and I can feel myself on the verge of crying. “After going through the numbers, I found that someone who has access to your business accounts has been skimming off the top for several months.”
“This can’t be right.” He sets me onto the couch and stands. “My dad wouldn’t steal from me.”
I was afraid he would say that, so I open my laptop and send him my findings. “Over the course of six months, your dad moved thousands of dollars to his personal account. The exact figures are in the report I just sent over.”
“You’re wrong,” he deadpans, not even considering what I’m saying. I know he’s hurt right now, but I made sure I had all the facts straight, and eventually, he’s going to have to deal with it. Fortunately, his business is thriving, which is why he didn’t notice it missing until he went to run the reports. His dad knew what he was doing, taking a little bit from each account so a red flag wouldn’t be raised. When I spoke to Owen, though, he told me he did notice, but when he tried to speak to Olivier, he was brushed off.