Читать книгу And Then There Is Love - Lori Buckman - Страница 5

An hour later, carrying his jacket that was draped over his right arm, his briefcase that was held in his left hand, the morning’s newspaper that was stowed under his left arm and a venti latte held in his right hand, Carlos elbowed open the door. In his low, Italian-accented voice he greeted his employee, “Barbara, buon giorno.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head apologetically. “Good morning.”

She nodded absent-mindedly, “Mr. Barecchi.” She tucked some hair behind her right ear and rubbed at her forehead. She chewed on the side of her index finger and said idly, “Over $3,000 disappeared last night, the highest yet. I changed the password just two days ago.”

Carlos swept a hand over his balding head. “And what about the safe?”

She shook her head. “That, too, was opened.” She pointed down at the receipts strewn about her desk. “Some of those receipts in there are missing. Tony was here last night. Because he can’t get into the computer, he jotted down the totals of the receipts. But we’re missing some. I checked all over the inside of the safe, but… What’s in the computer is different this morning.” Carlos set down his briefcase and moved behind her. He bent and his hands grasped the back of her chair as he stared at the computer screen. He scratched his head in confusion. She mumbled to her self, “So the discrepancy, $3,000, was probably dumped into another account in the early morning. It was done when the restaurant was closed. Someone, an employee, whoever, has—”

“What does the bank see?”

She rolled her eyes and briefly looked up at him. She wanted to exclaim, “What do you think?” But it wouldn’t solve a thing to be sarcastic. “They’re only interested in what are the true totals, not the ones I entered last night,” she answered as patiently as possible. “Missing receipts is our problem, not the bank’s.”

“What about the money we made from last night?”

She was losing her temper. “That’s what I’ve been talking about.” She let breath escape her slowly, “Sorry… If this keeps up, we’re going to have some financial trouble.”

He walked away from her. Then he spun around. “Then what’s to be done? This has gone on for almost a year. At least we found out last year that the previous manager had been embezzling but he’s gone. Does anyone else know the password to the computer? I mean, you change it often enough. What about the combination to the safe?”

Barbara looked at him with a smidgeon of suspicion that she hid by turning toward the computer once again. “No one knows either, just you and me.”

Carlos exhaled in frustration and idly drew his finger along the cool exterior of the safe. “No one else…” His was a pregnant pause. “Obviously we should get the police involved.”

“No!” she exclaimed. “No, two embezzlers so close together? No, let’s keep this internal for a little longer.”

Her boss’s hand dropped to his side. “No police?” His lips disappeared. Then he nodded slowly, “All right, we’ll keep on doing it your way for a couple of days more, Barbara.” He stabbed the desk with his index finger, “But only a few days, then we’ll let the police handle it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch him.” Glancing up at her frustrated boss she chuckled uncomfortably, “It’s my own sanity that’s beginning to concern me. Maybe that’s what he’s trying to do: make me go insane.”

Carlos smiled though a little wearily, “You’re as sane as me, Barbara.” He gathered up the receipts from the desk, rubber-banded them and took them back to the safe. “Have you been working on this all morning?”

She nodded without looking up, her hand still rubbing her forehead in concentration. “Fiore’s got to go on, Carlos.”

“It will, it will. We’ll catch him or her. Take a break. Go have a cup of coffee. Let me wrestle with this.”

Unwilling to let the mystery go unsolved, she didn’t make a move to leave her desk.

“Barbara…”

She sighed and stood reluctantly. Carlos’ forehead wrinkled and his eyes widened, “New outfit?”

Barbara glanced down, ran a hand over her skirt, looked down at her sandals and exclaimed, “Oh, my God!“

He smiled despite himself, “Too much alcohol?”

She nodded sheepishly but without answering, returned to her desk. “Really, Carlos, it’s not necessary for me to… “ Carlos looked darkly at her. She amended her statement. “A break does sound good though, but,” she bent over the head of the desk, pulled a pad of paper towards her and began to write. She mumbled, “I’ve got to order more salmon. We have enough pork and chicken. I’ve got to order some filet mignon. Fresh vegetables. We have enough. Canned goods are fine. Then there’s the dairy. The espresso and regular coffee are low—”

“Go!” he said as he pulled her away from the desk and pointed to the door.

“Just a minute,” she said as she held up her index finger, turned back to the desk and reached for a letter, “The electricity bill—”

“Go! I’ll do the ordering, Barbara. I can do that.” He sat, opened the top, smaller drawer of the desk and leaned inside.

As she watched him once again refreshing his shaky memory of the computer’s password, she shook her head in wonder at her intelligent boss who couldn’t remember a few numbers or letters. She pressed both hands into the small of her back and stretched but otherwise didn’t move. She held up her cup of cold coffee. “I’ll just warm this up and come back.”

He rose, stepped around the desk and pushed her toward the door. “Want me to lock the door? I don’t want to see you for at least thirty minutes.” And as she went out into the hallway, he shook his head. His lips pressed together as he wrestled with himself and looked once more at the computer. Finally, he nodded emphatically, lifted the phone receiver and began dialing.