And people who felt they could steal it.
He’d dealt with this before, and unfortunately he knew this wouldn’t be the last. It just fucking stung when it was someone he trusted.
Christian went white. “I don’t know—”
“Don’t make this any worse by lying. The forensic accountant showed me the evidence this morning.”
The man slumped into one of the guest chairs. “Zane, I was desperate. I’m sorry—”
Zane held up a hand, and Christian clamped his mouth shut.
“There are always plenty of excuses for making a poor decision. This one will cost you your job.”
Tears appeared in Christian’s eyes.
Zane blew out a breath, then pressed a button on the phone.
“Justin, send in my lawyers.” He had no time for thieves. Everyone wanted something from him—his name, his money, his influence—never just him.
The lawyers appeared and Christian stood on shaky legs.
“I’m sorry.”
Zane nodded. “I’ll let you work things out with the lawyers. If you’re lucky, we won’t push for criminal charges.”
He watched the man walk out with the lawyers, head hanging low.
Zane kept his mind off Christian as he sat through three more meetings. When he walked into the cavernous dining room at Eleven Madison Park, he needed a drink. A remorseful Christian had worked out a deal with the lawyers, and his desk had been cleared out.
They were always remorseful once they were caught.
He spotted Mav sitting at a table and crossed the restaurant to meet his friend.
A woman in a purple dress stepped in front of Zane, blocking his way.
“Hello.” Her smile was slow, sensual.
Zane wasn’t in the mood. “I’m meeting someone.”
She held up a card, and slipped it in the pocket of his suit jacket.
“Call me.” With a toss of her mane of brown hair, she strode off like she was on the catwalk at Fashion Week.
He watched her go and didn’t feel a blip of interest.
He took out the card, and slipped it into a glass of melting ice on an uncleared table.
He pulled out the chair at Mav’s table and sat.
“You look cheerful,” Mav noted.
“Caught my marketing guy stealing. I haven’t had the best morning.”
Mav frowned. “Sorry, Zane.”
“I’m sick of people fucking wanting a piece of me for their own selfish reasons.” He shook his head. “I donate millions to charity to help people in need, but others, usually far less needy, think they’re entitled to take it.” He shook his head. “Let’s not talk about it. How’s your day?”
“Good. I’ve been busy with a search engine project.”
“Tell me that my new safe got installed?”
“Yep. The guys told me it’s all done.”
“Thanks, Mav. I’m going to put my mom’s necklace in there. She’s coming down for her birthday in a few weeks.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Loves her new house in Westchester.” Zane had bullied her until she’d chosen a nice place that he could buy for her.
Carol Roth was damn hard to spoil.
Others wanted to steal from him, but his own mom rarely took what was offered until Zane coerced her into it.
A server brought over a bottle of wine, and lifted it for Mav’s inspection. He nodded. “Thanks. Pour. My friend needs a drink.”
“Hell yeah,” Zane agreed.
Monroe
Ugh, these ugly, gray pants were way too tight.
I tugged at the waistband of my borrowed pants, then hefted my bucket of cleaning supplies and walked into the elevator.
I stood with the rest of the cleaning crew. There were five of us. Maria, the supervisor, eyed me skeptically.
The owner of Ivy Park Cleaning was a friend—who cleaned for many a wealthy person in Manhattan—and the woman owed me a favor. I’d changed the locks for her college-student daughter, and just after, a crazed ex-boyfriend had tried to attack the girl. My locks had prevented him from hurting her.
Today, I was going undercover as a cleaner. I’d scrub Zane Roth’s bathroom, and scope out his place.
Perfect.
Unfortunately, the cleaning uniform was not comfortable, and my pants were one size too small. I also wore a blonde-brown wig that was itchy as hell.
The rest of the cleaning crew were talking quietly amongst themselves as the elevator finally slowed.
“You clean, and you do it well,” the supervisor ordered. “Don’t touch Mr. Roth’s things, and stay in your assigned rooms.”
We all nodded.
I’d been assigned the hallway, two guest rooms, and Roth’s master bathroom and bedroom.
The hall would have easy access to his office. I had a small pin camera on my lapel and I’d start recording as soon as I entered. I needed all the layout information I could gather, so I could plan my breaking and entering.
My chest locked, but I made myself remember my brother. His life depended on me.
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out. The breath rushed out of me and my mouth dropped open.
God, the place was stunning. The pictures of it hadn’t done it full justice.
I would kill to live here.
“Get to work,” Maria ordered.
We split up. I passed the sleek kitchen and drooled a little over the huge island and shiny appliances. I loved to bake, and baking here would be a dream. I gave the incredible view of Central Park a glance, rolled my eyes, and got to work.
I headed down the hall. Man, it really paid to have a squillion dollars.
My entire apartment would fit in one of these guest rooms. I picked up my cloth and bottle of cleaning spray.
I cleaned the guest room and bathroom. Easy. It looked like it hadn’t been used recently. I glanced out the window. Even the guest room’s ensuite had a nice view.
Peeking into the hall, I cocked my head. I heard a vacuum cleaner somewhere. Slipping out, I moved quickly down the hall. My wig itched and I scratched my hairline.
I opened the doors along the hall. Another guest room. Sitting room. The next door was locked.
This had to be the office.
I quickly pulled my lock picks out of my pocket and set to work. The door clicked open.
Excellent. I couldn’t deny the exciting little thrill.
I hated everything my father stood for, but I couldn’t say I didn’t understand what attracted him to his work.
As a little girl, I’d been his shadow. Before, when I was too young to understand that it was wrong, I’d had fun as he’d taught me to pick a lock, crack a safe, or pickpocket some tourist in Times Square. I’d thought it was normal to know every safe on the market, and their strengths and weaknesses. I’d been proud when I’d crack a safe and my father would give me candy as a reward.
You’re a chip off the ole block, Monny.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps. Shit. I pulled the door closed, spun and crouched down, pretending to clean the baseboards.
The eagle-eyed Maria appeared. I gave her a wide smile, then the woman walked down the hall and disappeared from view.
I kept dusting. I could hear Maria in the living room, and I waited until I was sure she was gone before I ducked into the office.
Right. I needed to get this done fast.