But as I checked on the spreadsheets that I’d perfected last night, before I left at six o’clock, I furrowed my brow and double-checked myself.
Okay, this isnotfine.
Ignoring the chatter of the office employees in the open area with cubicles, I reread and recalculated what was sent where.Or, rather, whatwasn’tsent to the right accounts. As a third-party payment service, Morovov Financials was instrumental in hiding dirty money. Since I was solely responsible for overseeing the big accounts, the panic attack that crept up on me was a personal affront, not a professional one.
What the hell is going on here?
These were all accurate when I logged out yesterday.
No matter what I clicked on and where I looked, I couldn’t understand why money hadn’t left one account and landed in another.
This is getting old.
Over and over, for the last month or so, spreadsheets like this one were messed up. If I weren’t such a perfectionist to triple-check everything, I might’ve missed the discrepancies. But I was. And I was looking at something that was decidedly not fine.
How is this happening?
I was the only one who managed these accounts. Only my father could override me, but hell, I hadn’t seen him actually beonhis computer in years. He let me do it all. Sure, other employees were out there in the cubicles, handling the legitimate businesses in Sin City and around it. ButIwas the only one here who had the sinister job security of enabling my father to assist crime families.
How is this possible?
“It was fine when I worked on it last night…” I covered my mouth and leaned closer. The slant was more of a hunch, and I was abundantly aware that it was a crappy posture, but I felt like Ihad to be closer to see, to truly read it all and know that I hadn’t screwed up.
Out in the open space of the office, the chatter grew in volume. Since Sadie hadn’t closed my door, the celebratory chitchat and conversations reached me. When a couple of women squeed and screeched in joy, I winced, trying to concentrate and find the reason this spreadsheet was wacky with the wrong numbers.
Insufficient funds?
No, that’s not right.
I checked it.
I verified that account was fine for this transfer to that one.
“I can’t believe it!” Sadie exclaimed in the open area.
“I know!” Another woman had replied. She sounded even more excited, and I warred with the natural instinct to want to hear more about whatever drama was going on out there. Few things could break my focus. As a loner and desperate foranythingto fill my life other than work, I couldn’t help but listen with half a brain.
“I know. It’ssosoon. I just had little Madeline three months ago. And now, I’m expecting again. It’s so crazy!”
I wasn’t sure which woman was bragging about being pregnant again. It was probably Linda-Lisa, a junior accountant whose name I never could remember properly. It was one of the two, and as I never had to speak with her directly, and vice versa, I supposed it didn’t matter if I ever knew her name anyway.
But knowing that she’d just had a baby girl and was now counting on a sibling for her?
Oh, spare me.
I winced, trying to quell the bitterness that crept through my heart at the fact that I would never be in her shoes. Being ecstatic like that and announcing a pregnancy was a fantasy that would never, ever come true. Not in my lifetime.
Because to get pregnant, a girl’s gotta get laid.
And to get laid, a girl’s gotta actuallymeeta man.
That wasn’t in my future. Not when my whole purpose for being on this planet—at least, according to my father—was to work. And work. And work, and work, and work.
Celebratory gratulations carried on out there, and I debated getting up to close my door to tune it all out. I didn’t need to hear that. I didn’t want to deal with this sour taste of jealousy distracting me.
Until I could figure out why and how these files weren’t showing what they had been last night, I didn’t want to let anything else interrupt me.
Two babies.
