Thank goodness she had filled out that form on KRG’s website.
Alice walked up to the reception desk in the Manhattan skyscraper’s lobby, lugging the two large leather bags that contained her laptop and the Mane Attraction’s paperwork. The limo driver had offered to carry them in for her, but she decided that being driven into the city in the cocoon of the big, luxurious car was enough high living for a bookkeeper from New Jersey.
“I’m Alice Thurber, here to see Derek Killion at KRG,” she said, handing the night guard her driver’s license as requested. While the guard typed her name into the sleek computer, Alice admired the way the marble counter was highlighted by the blond wood paneling that soared up three stories behind it. Several huge ficus trees clearly enjoyed the sunlight that must pour through the sheet glass enclosing the space. KRG had chosen an impressive building for their main office.
The guard gave her back her license. “Elevator bank on the right. Floor twenty-three.”
As the elevator hummed upward, Alice scanned her wavy reflection in the polished chrome door. She had probably gone overboard by wearing her new gray suit but she wanted to project professionalism at KRG’s headquarters. Her black leather pumps had a low heel that her mother would have condemned as dowdy but they were comfortable to walk in. In a decision Alice considered daring, she’d chosen a pale pink silk blouse. Of course, underneath all the business attire, she had slipped on a lacy pink bra and panties but that would remain her secret.
She drew in a breath in an effort to quell the anticipation vibrating through her.
She tried to convince herself that it was about finding the answer to her problem, but the truth was more complicated. Yes, she was somewhat nervous about meeting the legendary Leland Rockwell and asking him to put his high-tech resources at her disposal for a mere $3.37.
However, the flutter in her stomach and the fizz of excitement were caused by the thought of seeing Derek again. Was he really as good-looking as she remembered him? Her dreams had probably exaggerated his attributes, especially when she imagined him in a Regency gentleman’s attire of tight buckskin trousers, a fitted hunting coat, and an impeccably tied cravat.
Her doubts evaporated when the elevator doors slid open to reveal KRG’s reception area, a sleekly modern room styled in shades of taupe and blue. Derek was crossing the cerulean carpet toward her in full stride, a smile lighting his face. Her breath whooshed right out of her.
“Alice,” he said, his baritone warm and welcoming. “Thank you so much for coming into the city.”
She stumbled out of the elevator as her gaze roved over the perfectly fitted navy-blue suit he wore. It accentuated the breadth of his shoulders, the slimness of his hips, and the length of his legs just as effectively as any Regency duke’s riding clothes.
“Let me carry those,” he said, lifting the two bags from her unresisting grip without any indication of their significant weight. “Curiosity has been tormenting me ever since you called. I guess I shouldn’t have dismissed the idea of checking the credit card transactions.”
She was lost in the silvery depths of his eyes as he opened a glass door and held it for her, his smile still keeping the dimple in evidence. Something about that single dimple throwing the perfection of his face just slightly out of symmetry made him all the more gorgeous, maybe because it made him look real, not plastic.
“Are you exhausted from checking all those credit card slips?” he asked as his smile faded to a look of concern.
She realized she hadn’t managed to say a word since she first saw him. “It was tedious and my eyesight is a little blurry,” she said. “But I’m psyched that I found the error.”
He stopped and gestured her through a door into a conference room where a wall of windows displayed the glittering lights of midtown Manhattan. “Nice view,” she said before noticing that a man stood by the conference table. “I’m sorry. I’m Alice Thurber.”
“I guessed as much. I’m Leland.” His voice held the soft southern accent she’d heard over the phone as he came forward with his hand outstretched. When she shook it, she took in the computer genius. Except for his sneakers, worn jeans, and maroon T-shirt, he was not what she’d expected. In fact, his clothing was at odds with his neatly trimmed brown hair, his stylish tortoiseshell glasses, and his thin, aristocratic face. He looked like a preppy trying to slum it. “Delighted to meet you.”
“A pleasure,” she said before sitting in the cushy leather chair Derek had pulled out for her after he had set her bags on the polished wood table. Leland slid into a seat where two laptops stood, already open. Despite his lean build, his shoulders spanned the back of the capacious chair.
“Would you like something to drink?” Derek asked. “Coffee? Tea? Something stronger after all your work?”
“Water is fine,” Alice said, noticing the aroma of fresh coffee drifting through the air. She traced it to a mug sitting by Leland’s laptops.
Derek picked up a bottle of designer water from a tray and set it in front of her. Then he unknotted his yellow paisley tie and yanked it out of his collar with a zing of silk against cotton. When he flicked open the top two buttons of his shirt and exposed the muscled column of his neck, a flicker of awareness ran through Alice.
“Ahh, much better,” he said. “It’s been a long day of back-to-back meetings.”
When he settled into the chair next to hers, she could swear she felt his body warm the air around her. “Now let’s see the culprit.”
Alice pulled out copies of the transaction logs, bank statement, and the offending receipt and passed them to Derek and Leland. “The first one is the credit card summary from the end-of-the-month report produced by BalanceTrakR. After deducting the bank fees, it matches the bank statement, as you can see.”
Derek nodded, his attention focused on the paper.
“Next is a report of all the credit card receipts for the month, which I printed out after I noticed the discrepancy. Flip to page five and take a look at the highlighted number. Now take a look at the daily log sheet. That was printed out the day the charges were made at the salon. Just by good luck, the owner, Natalie Hart, kept all the daily logs. Check out the highlighted number.” She flipped to the last page of the packet. “And now, take a look at the copy of the actual credit card receipt with the customer’s signature.”
Derek whistled and Leland pursed his lips. For about a minute, the only sound in the room was the rustle of papers being flipped back and forth. Alice could practically feel the crackling energy being generated by two brilliant minds working out the implications of her discovery.
Then the men exchanged a long look across the table.
“What does that look mean?” Alice asked, unable to read the silent communication.
“This isn’t a bug.” Leland’s tone was harsh, his accent almost undetectable.
Derek nodded again.
“Not a bug? But the end-of-the-month report is wrong. You can see it right here.” She jabbed at the papers with her finger. There was no way this wasn’t a software issue.
“He means it’s deliberate,” Derek said.
“Deliberate?” Alice was bewildered. “Why would anyone deliberately throw the total off by $3.37?”