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“Is the laptop here because of Kisharti?” she asked, her back still turned.
He positioned his laptop on her kitchen island, his pulse quickening.
“Let me show you,” he said.
His nervousness made his movements jerky, and it took him twice as much time to upload Nurit’s excels. This was the point of no return. If Dafna got angry with his accusations, or gaslighted him and refused to hear what he had to say, then he was wrong about her. He scrolled to the entry that showed FemGen was still a subscription paying client–even though her friend at the beach said they weren’t.
“It’s a mistake.” She was unfazed.
“Yes. Probably.” He inhaled then released his breath in a slow exhale, seeking calm.
“Go ahead,” she encouraged. She didn’t look upset or worried, but what he was getting now was the HR persona–ready to hear anything and everything a confiding employee would tell her.
“But I found two more wrong entries, and I feel that I can’t trust the numbers Nurit gave me. It’s just a few mistakes, but I can’t let it go.” His heart was beating so strongly. He stopped and took another deep breath. “So I want to do some more checks.”
She arched her brows in a silent question.
“To check the numbers,” he continued, forming the words slowly, trying to read her every nuance, “I’d need to contact clients directly and confirm that they’re still paying.”
“Phone calls from an accountant doing our due diligence asking if they are still a paying client will hurt us. Badly.” Dafna’s jaw was locked.
“I’m aware that if word gets out, it will be bad for Kisharti. I don’t want to cause a stir, so here is where you come in. If you help me, between the two of us, we can do it discreetly. Kisharti’s reputation won’t be hurt.”
“Three little mistakes, Erez.”
She looked away from him. The silence stretched between them, and he knew she wouldn’t break it.
“Dafna, I want more with you. I don’t want this to end,” he blurted, wishing he hadn’t. He didn’t mean to bring up their relationship.
Her eyes met his in a challenging stare.
“You want more. But first I need to help you investigate Kisharti. Is that it?”
She nailed it. Framed his fuzzy, confused thoughts and feelings into a clear-cut conclusion. For him, it was all connected.
“Yes,” he answered.
She was silent again, and he realized he was clenching and unclenching his fists, so he stopped. He matched her pose, sitting on the high stool without moving, his palms on his knees. He stared out at her lush green yard and wished with all his heart that this wasn’t the end.
“I get it, Erez. This matters to you. What do you need from me?”
She got him. She understood what mattered to him. And in that minute, right there, he knew it wasn’t just a crush on a beautiful, sexy woman. It was full-blown Love–capital L. Dafna was still waiting for him to speak, so he shook away the glorious feeling of his epiphany and answered her.
“First, I need you to contact the clients you brought through your connections and ask them if they’re still a paying client.”
“Okay,” she pursed her mouth, “I still think you won’t find anything.”
He hoped not. But he was going to get to the bottom of this.
“Second. I already asked and received a sample of the standard follow-up email Kisharti sends to its clients after three months from one of Daniel’s workers. Daniel, your marketing expert, wants these sent out. We’d actually be doing Kisharti a favor. Menni thinks they bother the clients and stopped Daniel from sending them.”
“How do you know Menni stopped these from going out?” She was incredulous.
“I overheard them talking. So, I’m thinking, you can ask for a generic Kisharti helpdesk box from your IT man, make an excuse if you have to, and you can send out the emails from this email address. The day after tomorrow, Sunday, is my last day in Kisharti. We can do it together then.”
“What do we do if they return with requests and questions?”
He pondered her point. After all, she had her job to do, she wasn’t client relations.
