Page 85 of Love Is an Art
“I’m intimidating?” I ask.
Our glances meet, and he smiles. “Yes. You’re smart. So for someone who didn’t meet you in a paint-stained shirt, yes.”
I blush, but my whole body hums under his gaze.I’m smart.
Zeke sits in the chair, and I take the bed. We pore through the documents.
I find an invoice for location scouting with a report in Spanish accompanying it.
“Look! An invoice, and here’s the report.” I show it to Zeke. The smell of his freshly shampooed hair wafts over as he leans closer to me to study the document.
“Should we ask Roberto again?” I ask. “Maybe they did this as an extra measure and he forgot?”
“Roberto is very sharp. That’s one of the reasons I was so impressed and eager to invest. He wouldn’t forget. Let’s make a copy of this but not raise it until we have more evidence. As you saw at dinner, Roberto and Cameron are very close.” Zeke pulls out the accounting records. “There’s no separate line for interior decoration consulting in the accounting records. It must be lumped in with something else, which makes it harder to find. It’s suspicious, but again, it’s not enough.”
I study the furniture bills. “Some of these furniture bills appear to be exorbitant, but I have no idea. But they seem high, given that they were proud that they didn’t spend a lot of money on decorating. It makes sense to buy top quality, and it definitely gives a great impression.” I compare two bills. “How many couches were in the reception area—only two, right?”
“Yes.”
“But here, they are billed for another two couches. The same bill but a different date. Are there couches anywhere else?”
“No. They don’t have couches in their offices. Their offices are pretty small, as befits a start-up.” Zeke leans over to study the two bills. Mmm. He smells like ivory soap.
“Genius,” he says. The way he’s looking at me … I’m sure he can hear my heart pounding. His eyes soften. I want to reach out and touch his cheek, push back that errant lock of hair that’s almost in his eyes.
He scrutinizes the two bills I’m holding in my hand. “Wait. The banking information is different.”
A chill sneaks through me.
We both stare at each other, inches apart.
I look down. “Well, that’s definitely something. I’m not sure how to trace the bank account, but I can call the furniture company tomorrow and ask them if this is an alternate bank account they provide for payment.”
“That’s a good idea.” He pulls away, leaning completely back against the chair.
“And I’ll try to talk to Valeria or Ana—maybe in the bathroom or in the coffee break room.”
I shift. It’s uncomfortable on the bed. I’m either leaning over the documents or seated on the edge with nothing to lean against.
“Do you want the chair?” he asks.
“No.” I stretch out on the bed so that I’m lying on my stomach, propped up on my elbows.
“Don’t tip off Cameron,” he says.
“I can be subtle.”
“I’m not sure subtlety is your strong point.”
I snort. “It’s definitely not. I should have said, I can be devious.”
“That I’ll give you. Obviously.”
“So I keep showing you—to my detriment.” I pout.
His hand brushes mine. “You’re an evil genius.”
“ButI’mnot evil. I’m fighting the forces of evil. And while I’m confessing, I also want to confess that I’m the one who picked you up.”
