Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
He flips through pages of my report, reading slowly, digesting what I’m trying to spoon-feed him.
Everything is there: copies of the expense reports going back three years, as well as all the account transfers. I had the head of our accounting department contact our bank. You see, when you write a check to someone, they have to endorse the check when they go to cash or deposit it. This signature goes onto the back of the check, in zone one. The institution that receives the check also has to mark the item before it’s processed back to the originating financial institution. That mark goes in zone two. The originating institution (i.e., our bank) received electronic images of the front and back of every processed check. Every single one of them was endorsed with Todd’s signature.
He really is stupid. Embezzling money from your company is reckless. Signing the fraudulent checks with your full legal name before you deposit them? Now that’s just . . . bafflingly dumb.
I can see the rage setting in for Scott—$86,924’s worth of rage.
He’s like me, exacting and ill tempered. Though maybe I’ll be less ill tempered moving forward now that I’ll no longer have to deal with Todd and I’ll have Paige in my bed every night. Paige.
“He also verbally promised me a share of the windfall if I stayed quiet and worked alongside him on this,” I tack on. That part didn’t fit well within my organized presentation. Besides, I thought it was best delivered face to face anyway.
“That fucking bastard,” Scott hisses under his breath, refocusing my attention on the task at hand.
He slaps the report closed and tosses it onto the conference table. It slides across until I stop it with my hand.
For a moment, his sharp gaze locks on me, and the heat is still there. I’m the messenger about to be killed.
“Has the accounting team seen this yet?” he asks.
“I reviewed it with Joel but no one else. He helped me hunt through the expense reports so we could total up everything, and he also reached out to our bank concerning Todd’s checks. I wanted to be absolutely certain. Joel was going to reach out to you first thing, but I told him I was already meeting with you today. Should we get him on the phone?”
He nods, and I stand to reach for the conference phone on the table. It’s a quick call.
Joel is as mad as Scott.
They go through the reports together while I sit quietly. Joel confirms my findings. The dominoes fall into place, and I have a hell of a time keeping the smile off my face.
A surge of power has me buzzing as the clock ticks down. Karmic retribution is just so . . . satisfying.
Todd is due to join us any minute. He’ll be surprised to find Scott and I are already here. After all, the three of us weren’t due to meet until 11:00 a.m. Never mind that Scott and I have been here for over an hour.
The call ends, and Scott’s gaze flits back to me. He’s only now remembering I’m in the room.
“To be clear, you’ll be replacing Todd. Active immediately. Work out compensation with HR. Figure out what you want. Obviously, we’re not in a position to negotiate here. I don’t want this getting out. You’ll sign an NDA. Do you understand?”
Replace Todd?
What? No! I couldn’t possibly . . .
“Done,” I say, confident and succinct.
I can already picture Cole Clark, Director of Operations on my email signature.
Mwhahah.
“Also, sir, there’s one more thing I’d like to discuss before Todd gets here . . .”
Epilogue
PAIGE
The day Todd is fired will go down in infamy. We all hurried over to witness his removal from the hotel. It was . . . loud, among other things.
His booming voice carried throughout the resort almost from the very beginning.
From down the executive hall, we were treated to several outbursts, including but not limited to:
“You’re firing me?!”
“Fuck you and fuck you!”
“You’re replacing me with this kid?! He’s a total idiot!”
There was no going gently into retirement for Todd. His reaction was on par with being wrongfully arrested and convicted of a crime he didn’t commit. And to be clear, in the beginning, he wasn’t being arrested (that came later). The two security guards should have been enough on their own. They were supposed to escort Todd to his office so he could collect his personal items. Then things took a turn when Todd tried to carry out cash that he was apparently stowing in one of his desk drawers. The money was in a nondescript duffel bag that screamed illegal, though he claimed it was just his gym clothes. Never mind that Todd hasn’t seen the inside of a gym since ’87.
“This is my property!” he shouted as a security guard tried to take it from him. “I’M CALLING THE FUCKING COPS!”