Ties

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Fuuuuccckk.

I groan as the extremely bright and extremely fucking early morning sun trickles in through the window, directly beaming into my eyes like a laser.

Parker's arm wrapped loosely around my waist, hair sprawled out on the blue striped pillowcase as she remains sleeping peacefully. A small smile curved on her parted lips as breaths puff from her nose in slow, sleepy patterns. I carefully remove her arm so I can reach for my cell, and she hums out a quiet grumble, turning her head on the pillow.

The buzzing on the nightstand is to blame for my rude awakening. Several texts appear on my phone from Dave, stating he'd been sifting through records and paperwork all weekend long, apologizing that it's a Sunday, but letting me know we have a major problem.

And it can not wait.

Fucking... lawyers.

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I pull open the door to the coffee shop around the corner—this has kinda become Parker and my place. Been keeping all this quiet because I haven't wanted her to worry about any of it. Hopefully, whatever it is, we can put it to bed and I'll fill her in once the problem's solved.

Truthfully, she runs things so well with my father's... well, my company, there isn't a ton I need to do. After the first few weeks that I took over, I'd stopped insisting on approving everything before deals went through—because I wanted to be a dick. And I used every excuse I could to see her more.

God, I acted like such a bitch.

Now I let her have full rein. I trust her.

I'd done a thorough audit. Being a numbers guy, with a previous career in finance, I actually love going over budgets and shit like that. Wouldn't say it makes my dick hard. Thoughts immediately switching gears to Parker dressed up like some sexy math teacher. Fuck, I'd definitely get on the bottom of that fraction.

Anyway, not that we aren't doing well, revenue has been through the roof, but when I went over some older accounts, I noticed a few things that made little sense. In particular, three companies that seemed to be giving us a hefty amount of money, but it didn't add up. Hundreds of thousands unaccounted for.

Hence why I needed Dave. I needed someone I could trust to get to the bottom of it, because something has been telling me that my father was into some shady ass shit, and Alice—who'd been his right-hand woman, for years—was zero help, feeding me dead ends each time I had questioned her.

Dave shoots up a hand, buried beneath papers. Dark circles line under his eyes, and several empty cups sit in front of him. I take a deep breath then sigh, pulling a wooden chair from the corner table he's holed up at, in the fairly vacant coffee house. There's only a few other early risers tapping away on their keyboards.