Show and Tell (25 page)
“Trin, I need you to do this for me,” he said before she even spoke.
She took a deep breath. “I’ve given it due consideration, Lance, and I can’t.”
The upstairs hallway outside Accounting overlooked the lobby and stairs. Glancing up, the receptionist stared. Trinity didn’t know
her
name, either. “Let me go outside,” she told Lance. On her way by, she read the girl’s nameplate, then she smiled, memorizing the name.
her
name, either. “Let me go outside,” she told Lance. On her way by, she read the girl’s nameplate, then she smiled, memorizing the name.
Outside, the overcast sky darkened with the threat of rain. January oftentimes could be a good month, sunny, warmish, but by February, the rain was usually back.
“Are you there?” she said.
“Of course, I’m here.” Lance snorted. “Where would I go when my whole life is in the balance?”
She huddled beneath the overhang as the first splotches of rain hit the parking lot pavement. “You are so dramatic.” Trinity realized she often affected his same drama queen tone.
“This is important, Trin. I want to come home.”
She closed her eyes and hugged one arm across her midsection. She should have brought her jacket. “Then ring your father’s doorbell and talk to him.”
“Why are you being such a bitch?”
Holding the phone away from her ear, she looked at it. A bitch? First Daddy being angry, now her brother. “Lance, calling me names won’t help. I’m doing this for your own good.” She was sure her mother would have approved her course of action.
“That is so much bullshit. You’re afraid to get on Dad’s bad side.”
Again, she stared at the phone as Lance railed on. She could still hear every word. Who was this person? Her brother never talked to her like that. But then Daddy had never spoken in such a tone to her before either.
She struggled for calm. The rain started in earnest. “Lance, I am not going to talk to Daddy for you. I’m sorry—”
Then he called her the absolute worst name a man could call a woman. The
C
word.
C
word.
No one had ever called
her
that name, most especially not her brother. Just when she was about to scream at him, she realized the phone was dead. He’d hung up on her.
her
that name, most especially not her brother. Just when she was about to scream at him, she realized the phone was dead. He’d hung up on her.
The heavens opened and the rain poured down, beating on the car roofs, streaming off the overhang, and splashing her shoes. Putting out a hand, she caught a piece of the torrent.
The problem with Lance was that he’d always had everything handed to him on the proverbial silver platter. From the day he was born, his place at Green Industries had been secured. He’d always gotten what he wanted right when he wanted it and never questioned how that came to be.
“And you can say the same,” she muttered to the rain.
If you were always given everything, you never learned to take care of yourself. All her life, Trinity had painted herself with a different color brush to please, to get what she needed. For Daddy, she was his perfect little girl. For Lance, she was the adoring little sister. And to Harper, she was the silly little wife (spelled
meal ticket
).
meal ticket
).
She remembered her words to her father this morning.
Maybe they’ll make an exception if we ask them nicely.
How pathetic that statement was. She didn’t see the transfer so it wasn’t her fault, and if she acted like a sweet little girl, she’d work around the boo-boo.
Maybe they’ll make an exception if we ask them nicely.
How pathetic that statement was. She didn’t see the transfer so it wasn’t her fault, and if she acted like a sweet little girl, she’d work around the boo-boo.
Dammit, this was the
real
world. She’d made a mistake—even if
someone
had helped her make it—then expected Daddy to fix it. Just as she expected Daddy to fix her divorce.
real
world. She’d made a mistake—even if
someone
had helped her make it—then expected Daddy to fix it. Just as she expected Daddy to fix her divorce.
Trinity grabbed the lobby door and yanked it open.
“Wow, it sure started raining out there, didn’t it?” the receptionist said.
“Yes, Karen, it did. And I don’t think we’ve met yet.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Trinity Green.”
Karen, all of nineteen years old, stared at Trinity with big blue eyes in a round pretty face. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Bounding up the stairs as fast as her spike heels could take her, Trinity headed down her father’s wing of the building.
“Is he busy?”
Verna glanced up from her computer screen, black-and-white- speckled reading glasses on her nose. “Not for you, sweetie.”
Trinity closed the door behind her as her father scooped cigar ashes into his hand and dumped them in his trashcan.
“I apologize for my mistake. I won’t let it happen again.”
He sniffed. “I realize you’re new at this, and I shouldn’t have gotten so angry. I can’t expect you to read my mind when a wire needs to go out. I should have—”
Trinity held up her hand. “I
will
be more diligent. Mr. Ackerman told me how potentially big this new customer could be for us, and since you handle all the metals stuff, I will always check with you to make sure I’ve accounted for any wires that need to be sent out.”
will
be more diligent. Mr. Ackerman told me how potentially big this new customer could be for us, and since you handle all the metals stuff, I will always check with you to make sure I’ve accounted for any wires that need to be sent out.”
“Honey . . .”
“If you send me an e-mail reminder when you do leave a wire for me, that would also be great.”
He stared at her as if she’d suddenly grown a forked tongue. “Well, thank you, honey. I appreciate the diligence.”
“Okay, I have to run, Daddy. I’ve got a ton of things to do before I go home. Love you.”
Actually, she had a ton of things to do before she called Scott at one minute
after
five when she was officially off the clock. After all, she was a working girl.
after
five when she was officially off the clock. After all, she was a working girl.
See, he was a drug. At the end of a bad day, she’d started popping Scott pills.
THE audit committee took almost the whole day. With the meeting afterwards to update his staff on the audit requirements, Scott didn’t get to MIS until the end of the day.
He made his way through the maze of cubicles set up in identical style to that in Accounting.
“Hey, Mark. I’d like a printout of the card key accesses to my department over the last couple of weeks. I want to check the overtime my people have been doing on the weekends.”
“Sure thing, dude.” Instead of the blond surfer type his language imitated, Mark was midtwenties, dark, Latin, and a bit of a dweeb, his shirtfront pocket-protector central. But he knew his network as well as his own body parts. When you needed something, you didn’t tackle the head of MIS, you went to Mark.
Punching a few keys, his state-of-the-art laser printer spat out several pages.
The garage elevators and the outside doors required card key access after hours. The inside doors were kept locked even during the day. If you forgot your card key when going to the restroom, you couldn’t get back in. Which was good for Scott. Since the alarm had been set, the department was empty. The culprit would have keyed in sometime after he did.
“Here you go.”
Scott scanned the list Mark handed him. Hmm, maybe his employees were taking way too many bathroom breaks. Flipping to the last page, he backtracked to his own entry on Friday night, indicated by both his employee and badge number. First, his use on the elevator, then again on the Accounting Department entry. Beneath it, a few minutes later, there was another double entry, the parking elevator, then Accounting again. Someone had followed him up from the garage. He held it out to Mark. “Why no employee number with this badge?”
Mark gave it a quick glance. “Guest badge.”
“Can you see who used it? I don’t like guests coming in after hours. We’ve got proprietary information.”
Punching keys, data filled Mark’s screen. “See here?” He pointed, but with the angle of the screen, Scott couldn’t read it. “This says the badge was issued three months ago to Accounting with no off-hours restrictions.” He tipped his head, waiting for Scott’s reaction.
Three months ago. “The auditors. We always give them full access.” They often came in on weekends or stayed late. It helped keep the term of the audit down, which, when you needed to release profitability numbers, was a must.
But somebody hadn’t turned in this badge.
He was back to square one. The auditors turned the badges in to whomever they saw last. It could have been Elton, Grace, or any of the other accountants. Hell, even Ron Rudd had returned two of them directly to Scott.
“Go ahead and deactivate this one. I issued the new set of card keys at the audit committee meeting.”
Lesson learned: Keep track of the damn badges. “Print me a list of the guest keys given out this morning. I’ll put Grace in charge of making sure they all get turned in or deactivated.”
“Sure thing, dude.”
He smiled in return. “Thanks, dude.”
Lesson learned, yeah, but the damage was done. Someone at Millennium had used an unassigned badge to gain access and take his photo in a compromising position. His gut rumbled. Whoever followed him into Accounting ten minutes after he entered with Jezebel had done so with nefarious intentions.
“Despite the deactivation, will you be able to tell if it gets used again?”
“Sure thing, dude. It’ll get recorded as access denied.”
He wouldn’t know who, but at least he’d know when, and maybe that would narrow it down.
Back in his office, his message light was flashing.
His heart kick-started with the sound of her voice. “Meet me at the movies for a sexy thriller.” Instantly, he went hard. She remembered. Tapping into his brief flight of fancy the other night, she named the old-style theater downtown. One of those massive gilded structures with balcony seating, it had recently been renovated as a landmark. Showing an eclectic mixture of old classics from the 1930s and 1940s all the way up to the 1980s, the movies often played to packed houses.
He wondered what his Jezebel had planned for him tonight. He couldn’t wait to find out, yet all the while he imagined ways he could get her to come home with him. The tease?
If you want more, we’ll have do it in my bed.
Maybe cutting her off?
If you don’t want it my way, then you don’t get it at all.
Damn, that was too harsh, not only for her, but for him.
If you want more, we’ll have do it in my bed.
Maybe cutting her off?
If you don’t want it my way, then you don’t get it at all.
Damn, that was too harsh, not only for her, but for him.
Yet however he accomplished it, he wanted to make her so freaking obsessed with him that she’d spend the night, a week, a month, more. He wanted her as obsessed as he was.
12
BEFORE leaving work, Trinity ditched her blouse, bra, thong and pantyhose. All she wore was her red power suit and matching stilettos. She’d freshened her makeup and fluffed her hair. Not that she needed to be perfect for Scott, she just wanted the opportunity to get everything all messed up.
During a slight break in the rain, she dashed to the theater and bought two tickets at the old-fashioned booth. February’s playlist included a film noir festival, tonight’s contribution being
Body Heat
, a relatively new addition to the genre, made in the early 1980s. She’d never seen it, yet with that title, it couldn’t have been more perfect.
Body Heat
, a relatively new addition to the genre, made in the early 1980s. She’d never seen it, yet with that title, it couldn’t have been more perfect.
The outside pavement was speckled green, gold, and black inlay, and movie posters filled glass-fronted cabinets all around the entry. Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, Burt Lancaster. She remembered him from that old Kevin Costner movie
Field of Dreams
. Goodness, they looked so young. And Burt was, well, totally hot.
Field of Dreams
. Goodness, they looked so young. And Burt was, well, totally hot.
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