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I snorted out a laugh. If only she knew what we’d done yesterday. It was anything but sweet. Or maybe it was, just with a little spice added in for good measure.
But then she paled. “Not that I…. I mean… I’m not interested in you, Flynn. Not that you’re not good—”
“It’s okay, I understood what you meant.” I grinned at her, trying not to laugh at how flustered she was.
“He’s big… on satisfying my needs. A real keeper,” Zee teased, her eyes filled with mischief. I flushed, heat crawling up my throat.
Cara fanned her face and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear before she started speaking a mile a minute. “I know we spoke about going out for coffee, but if you’re not busy tonight, like an hour ago, I won four free drinks tickets to a pub on the river in Surfers. They have this local guy singing there—Connor. He’s pretty amazing, and it’s an LGBTQIA-friendly venue. I don’t know if that’s important to you, but I like to support businesses that are inclusive.”
I thought she’d finished her pitch until she sucked in another breath and added, “But it’s okay if you can’t. I heard that this boy I like will be there too. He probably won’t notice me, but maybe if I was there….” She shrugged and frowned, curling into herself.
“We’d love to come,” Zee agreed, hooking her arm around Cara’s and smiling like an excited child.
We didn’t often go out to bars and pubs—drunken parties weren’t really my scene—but this place was on the water and had picnic tables, bean bags, and high tops with stools all the way down the sloping bank. Decent food—nothing like what Ry cooked, but good pub grub—laid-back live music, and a sweet view of the sunset over the mountains in the distance with lights reflecting off the river in the foreground.
We were able to dock the runabout straight up to it too, so we’d been there many times before.
“You would?” Cara asked, wide eyed. “Really?”
I knocked my shoulder gently into hers. “Absolutely. We like inclusive venues too, and I want to meet this boy you like, because even if I have to introduce you myself, he deserves to meet someone as sweet as you.”
Cara flushed and looked at me with awe in her eyes. And for what? The truth? This girl was gorgeous. I adored her.
“He’s cute, but I don’t have a chance with him. He’s totally out of my league.”
I opened my mouth to refute her, but Tristan commanded, “All right, settle down everyone.”
His voice held more than a hint of annoyance, and as I looked up at him where he was still standing behind the lectern, his scowl deepened. But there was a heat in his eyes, fire that turned me right the heck on.
“Jude’s ready to give us a rundown.” Gesturing to the empty space near the projector screen, he added, “Why don’t you come up front?”
“Yeah, so, um.” Jude cleared his throat and walked up the aisle to stand on the opposite side of the screen from Tris. “The liquidator wasn’t directly involved with the investigation, which isn’t normal. Usually, they supervise things while the more junior staff do the legwork. But they had a guy from one of their American offices—an expert in investment firm liquidations—fly over and run the job. The Australian liquidator largely just signed off on it.”
“Did you ask why they called the American in?” Tristan asked, his brow furrowed. His scowl was gone, but the furrow remained. Now it was concentration and curiosity, rather than anger, marring his features.
“Apparently, she didn’t call him. When the firm opened the file for ReimagINC, it was flagged in their system, and the American guy was attached to it. The Australian accountants started the data collection, and he took over deciding both the scope of the audit and whether it was worth pursuing the sale of any assets.”
Jude flipped the slide, and a list of dot points appeared, bouncing onto the screen from different directions. He’d clearly been playing with the animation feature in PowerPoint to try to liven up the white-background-with-black-text slide. “They were understaffed, absolutely snowed with cases and they were hiring lots of new, inexperienced graduates. When the American guy said that it appeared to be an open-and-shut case, they closed the company down and moved on.”
“What does open-and-shut mean?” another student asked.
“Apparently, given that the director chick disappeared so close to when ReimagINC went under, they were worried it was another case like that director in the ’80s or ’90s who stole company money and went overseas—”
“Skase,” Tristan murmured, nodding thoughtfully.
“But this American guy audited a series of typical investments and found no anomalies. They put it down to a sign of the times.”
“So, they didn’t do a full audit?” Cara asked. “Is that normal?”
She was resting her elbows on the desk, and I took the chance to cast my eyes over to Zee. She had her arms crossed but seemed okay otherwise. It was good news. It was a relief to hear that the liquidator reiterate that the company collapsed because of bad economic conditions, not Rosa’s mismanagement.
“It is when the funds in the company’s accounts aren’t sufficient to pay the liquidators for a more detailed audit,” Tristan explained, his eyes trained on Zee as he spoke.
I loved how he watched her, his stare locked on her like a homing beacon. Anyone else would wilt under his intense focus, but she preened, loving his attention and letting us both know in her unique way that she was okay.
Jude continued, adding, “The liquidators sold off what was left of ReimagINC’s investment portfolio, paid their fees, and distributed the small amount that was left. The stock market had crashed, so creditors only got a few cents in the dollar back.”
Zali cleared her throat. “What was the liquidator’s gut feeling about the director’s death?”
