Beg for It Read online

  “It’s my house. Why shouldn’t I have it the way I like it?” Corinne asked in a clipped, controlled voice.

  “You should always have everything the way you like it. Right?” Three strikes, Reese thought. You’re out.

  He’d have deserved it, too, if she’d lost her shit with him, but all Corinne did was press her lips together and look at the glass of wine in her hand. It seemed that time had given her better control over her temper. Reese wasn’t sure that was the reaction he’d wanted.

  “It’s getting late. Please show me what it is you have questions about so we can go over it.”

  He spread the folders open in front of her to show the printouts he’d culled from the stacks of material Tony had prepared. “There are a couple of accounts that don’t match up. Some past end-of-year things.”

  She tilted her head to look over the papers he was pulling out. With a frown, she tugged one set closer to her. “Yeah…these are from right around the time we switched to the new software. I took care of all that in the new system.”

  “There’s no record of any of that.”

  “Of what?” she asked sharply.

  “Of the updated files.”

  Corinne took a sip of wine before answering. “Where’d you pull this from?”

  “Tony gave it to me.”

  “Where did he get it?”

  Reese sat back in his chair. “It was all part of the original information that Lynn sent us when we were collecting data before we decided to make the offer.”

  “It didn’t come from the updated package I put together.”

  “I—”

  “It didn’t,” Corinne said. “It couldn’t have. The stuff Lynn put together was culled from older files he’d tried to access after a computer backup failed. He’s a great guy, but he’s not the most tech savvy. And, if you’ve done any research into this company at all, you know that they’re all great people, but it’s still a small, family run business and occasionally the way it’s been handled reflects that. If you’d asked me, though, I could’ve made sure you were working from the most current information.”

  “I am asking you!”

  “No,” she told him with a slow, deliberate shake of her head. “You’re trying to show me up. Aren’t you? Because you had to dig pretty deep to find something remotely problematic with the way I’ve handled the financials for Stein and Sons. And wow, did you dig. So here’s my question for you, Reese. Did you pull out all that crap because you wanted something to rattle me with, or did you just want an excuse to see me alone?”

  Reese pulled the folders out of her hands and piled them. “That’s a completely unprofessional accusation.”

  “It would be unprofessional of you, if that’s what you did.”

  He’d spotted a garbage can in the corner and stood now to toss the files into it. Her accusations, professional or not, had hit too close to home. He turned to lean his back against the counter, facing her.

  “You know, I’ve bought and sold more businesses in the past twelve years than you could possibly guess.”

  “A hundred or so, right?” she said easily enough. “I told you, I looked you up.”

  “Then you should know I’m—”

  “A powerful businessman. I know.” She got up from the table and moved toward him, stopping just out of reach. She took a long, slow slip of her wine. “Expensive suits. Houses all over the world. You’re very important, and very, very rich. You’re one of Philadelphia’s top ten eligible bachelors.”

  She must’ve read one of the many gossipy type reports that had gone around the internet once or twice when he’d been foolish enough to get involved with that sort of thing.

  “You should know that I’m good at what I do,” Reese said. “I don’t waste time or resources on things that don’t matter.”

  She smiled thinly. “And you should know that I’m also good at what I do, and I don’t need my time wasted on things that don’t matter.”

  Somehow, he suspected that neither of them were really talking about the business.

  “Good to know. When I get back to the office next week, I’ll expect to have all the updated information showing me these the discrepancies and how they were resolved, with authentication.”

  Corinne put her half-full wineglass in the sink. It took her a few seconds longer to turn than necessary, but when she did, her expression was neutral. “If you’re planning to accuse me of some kind of impropriety or…I don’t know what. Embezzling?”

  “No!” Shocked, he took a step toward her before stopping himself. “What?”

  She crossed her arms. “Because that’s what it sounds like, Reese. So if that’s where this is leading, you should tell me right now, because then I can have my resignation letter on your desk tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s it,” he said. “That’s what you do. You get challenged the least little bit, and you want to quit.”

  “Me? That’s a good one. I’m not the one—”

  “Mom?”

  Both of them turned toward the lanky blonde girl standing in the doorway with a curious look on her face. She had Corinne’s eyes. Shit. The daughter.

  “What’s up, Peyton?” Corinne’s tone had changed. Lighter, sweeter. Concerned. She didn’t look at Reese.

  “Are the cupcakes ready?”

  “Yeah, honey. I’ll put them in the container for you and make sure they’re in the car for when I drop you off at school after the dentist.”

  “Okay, good. I wanted to be sure you didn’t forget.” Peyton looked at Reese, then her mother.

  “This is Mr. Ebersole. He bought the company I work for. He’s here to go over some paperwork.”

  Peyton nodded, assessing him frankly in a way that reminded him so much of Corinne that he wanted to laugh, but didn’t. With a backward glance, she left the kitchen. Corinne looked at him.

  “My oldest. She volunteered me for the bake sale.”

  “You hate to bake,” he said.

  Corinne’s brow furrowed. “You remember.”

  “I remember a lot of things.”

  “Yeah,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Me too.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You really think he came all the way to your house on a Sunday night just to talk to you about discrepancies in the files? C’mon, Corinne. There’s no way.” Caitlyn spread a thick layer of port wine cheese on a cracker and crunched it messily. Mouth full, she went on. “The guy buys and sells companies like trading cards. You think he can’t really tell when something is funky or not? Also, isn’t that what his assistant is supposed to do?”

  Corinne stretched out her toes, wiggling them as she admired the polish. It had been a long, stressful week. Reese had not fired any of the current barn or production plant staff, but he’d had her start interviewing potentials for the positions she’d let go over the past year, as well as some others that had been formerly been filled by the board members. All of them had taken the payout she was beginning to wish she’d been offered.

  “Maybe he’s trying to make you his new assistant,” Caitlyn said in a half-horrified voice.

  Though it was Corinne’s weekend with the kids, Douglas had taken them to his nephew’s bar mitzvah. Corinne and her sister had planned to spend the entire Saturday giving themselves manicures and pedicures, drinking wine, and eating snacks while watching as many hours of their favorite TV show, Runner, as possible.

  “Let’s watch season eight,” Corinne said, ignoring her sister.

  “Eight? No. Eight’s the season we pretend didn’t happen.” Caitlyn shook her head. “That’s the season when the writers went on strike and they came up with that alternate timeline! How can you want to watch eight?”

  Corinne laughed. “Okay, five.”

  “Five’s good. Get that queued up; I’ll fill our glasses.”

  Back in minutes with full wineglasses and some more snacks, Caitlyn settled into the couch next to Corinne. Both of them sang along to the opening th