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“So unfortunately you have a problem,” I said from my side of the booth. “A very big problem. And here it is.”
I slid the open folder across the table, to where Lincoln was still chopping into his omelet. He dropped the fork long enough to pick up the cash flow statements, which had multi-colored highlights all over them.
“The yellow highlighted areas are operating activities. The green ones are for investments.”
Lincoln squinted through his glasses, looking so handsome I wanted to kiss him all over again. I still had last night in my blood. Adrenaline from what the two of them had done to me was still coursing through my veins.
“So what’s the problem?” he asked.
“The investments,” I replied. “The charities specifically. Look at how many there are.”
Beside me, Brody was sipping his coffee. I was hyper-aware of his hand on my leg, resting in the middle of my thigh. But I had to stay focused.
Lincoln shrugged. “We give to a lot of charities,” he said. “Sometimes we have to dump money for tax purposes. We need the write-offs. We need the—”
“I’m an accountant, remember?” I grinned. “I understand all that. But shit, Lincoln, all these charities? You need some outside business write-offs, too.”
“Like what?”
“Buy something small and self-sufficient, without a lot of overhead or employees or supervision.” I shrugged. “Open a coin-operated laundromat. Or one of those self-serve car washes. Hell, open three of them. The write-offs will help balance you out come tax time.”
He stroked his chin and nodded slowly, really considering my words. The validation felt good. Especially from someone so successful, when it came to business.
“Alright, forget all that for the time being,” I went on. “But now here, look at this.”
I pulled out a second folder and pushed it his way. He squinted even harder, adjusting his glasses.
Next time we have sex, he’s wearing those glasses, the little voice in my head demanded. In the interest of zero distractions, I pushed the voice away.
“These are your missing changes in equity statements,” I said. “Once again they were misfiled. Intentionally hidden away.” I paused to give him a chance to catch up. “Now, see those places I highlighted in orange?”
“Yes?”
“Those are monies paid as dividends,” I explained, “to outside accounts.”
Lincoln nodded. He was starting to see.
“Those accounts are going to belong to Kathy,” I said apologetically. “Your CFO.”
Lincoln swallowed. “I— I don’t think I fully—”
“Your chief financial officer is stealing from you, Lincoln. She’s paying herself under the guise of charitable donations, and hiding those payments as dividends.”
I saw the change. His expression went from one of confusion to disbelief to extreme disappointment.
“But wouldn’t we notice—”
“Not if she kept the payments small,” I said. “That’s why there are so many of these accounts. The payments are steady and constant too, so they add up.” If he wasn’t going to get angry, I would be angry for him. “They add up to a lot.”
Brody, who’d been chewing through bacon like he was in some kind of a contest, was now peering over the top of the folder with all new interest. “Someone’s ripping you off, bro?”
Lincoln let out a long sigh. “Looks like it.”
“That sucks.”
The waitress came by and refilled all three of our coffees, allowing a nice span of silence for the whole thing to sink in. By the time she left, Lincoln’s dark brows had finally come together.
“Well fuck,” he spat.
