Molly took my hand and gave my fingers a squeeze. “Did you hear that?” she asked, jumping up and down. “You’ve got a job offer!”
“He said Imighthave a job offer,” I corrected, sitting back down.
“Oh, please. That was totally a tap on the shoulder,” Molly squealed. “I’m so happy for you, and I’m not even jealous.”
I laughed. “Thanks, Mol. But I’m sure he’s going to give you an offer, too.”
Molly huffed. “Doubt I’ll take it.”
“What? Why not? People would kill to work for Blue Cloud.”
“We both know I’m only in the accounting program to please my parents. The second I graduate, I’m shipping off to New York to start my career as a model. Or have you forgotten?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten. I just didn’t think you were serious.”
“Don’t you think I’ll make it?”
I smiled at her. Molly was really pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Bright red hair and dazzling hazel eyes and legs for days. “Iknowyou’ll make it. I’ll just miss you.”
“You could always come with,” she insisted. “While I’m walking runways, you can manage my books.”
“Tempting,” I said wryly, “but I’d rather stay in Chicago. I don’t think I’d last in New York.”
“Fair.” She tapped me on the nose. “Your book smarts won’t do you a lick of good in the Big Apple.”
“Ha ha,” I said. “Very funny.”
Marta cleared her throat again, more loudly this time. Molly grimaced and wheeled her chair back over to her desk. Even though I didn’t appreciate the attitude, Marta was right. It was time to get back to work. Quitting time wasn’t for another hour or so, and there was still an avalanche of numbers to crunch.
It was easy to fall into a rhythm against the soundtrack of clicking keyboard buttons, the ringing of distant office phones, and the soft murmur of water cooler conversation. I verified account balances and tallied up totals, cross-referencing transactions with notes listed in client profiles. Molly and I weren’t allowed to participate in the actual trading of stocks. That wasn’t our department. What we were responsible for was the diligent tracking of all funds, processing everything through the appropriate spreadsheets and forms to account for every single cent.
Some would consider it mind numbing work. I, on the other hand, ate it up.
Something caught my eye as I finished compiling everything for one particular client —The Azuras Association— near the end of my shift. Something wasn’t quite right. There was a discrepancy of almost a hundred thousand dollars.
It was just… gone.
I frowned at my computer screen. Did I make a mistake somewhere? That didn’t sound right. Not because I was being egotistical, but because I literallynevermade mistakes when it came to calculations like this. What was stranger still was the fact that the system didn’t flag this for review. Blue Cloud Financial had dedicated software to ensure things like this didn’t happen.
Leaning back in my chair, I peeked at Molly past the dividing wall. She was playing solitaire and losing, but that wasn’t my biggest concern at the moment. “Hey,” I said slowly. “Will you check this over for me? Something’s not right.”
Molly’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s rare coming from you.”
“Just come over here and help me.”
She rolled her chair over, parking next to me. Molly checked over everything, using the mouse wheel to scroll down and inspect the page. “Huh.”
“I know, right?” I typed quickly into the computer, pulling up the last three months’ worth of records. I tapped the screen in different spots. “They were missing ten grand last month, too. And here and here.”
“Whoa. Why didn’t you notice this before?”
“Arty literally assigned them to me today.”
“Who was in charge of the portfolio before you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“We should report this. Who knows how far back this goes?”