Her Man Friday(61)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

At her softly uttered query, his entire body jerked in the biggest, most unmistakable flinch she’d ever seen. She knew then that whatever he had been doing, it had claimed his complete and absolute attention, and that he knew full well he wasn’t supposed to be doing it. Her heart began to pound rapidly behind her rib cage, her stomach rolled with uneasiness, and her mouth went dry enough that she had trouble asking her next, and perfectly logical, question.

"What are you doing here?"

She had no idea where she found the strength or energy to manage it, but Lily took a few steps into the room, trying to see past Leo in an effort to discover what he was doing. As she approached, she noted the scattered diskettes on her desk, and in a few more steps saw what was on the computer screen. It was a record of one of dozens of bank accounts, accounts that didn’t concern Leo or his investigation of tax problems, or anything else having to do with Kimball Technologies at this point.

He hadn’t turned around yet, hadn’t acknowledged her presence in any way, save that one big body flinch when she’d spoken his name. But as she drew nearer now, he stood and turned to face her, placing himself menacingly between her and the desk, as if he were worried that she might hurry over there and try to sabotage whatever he was doing. Even though she was utterly confused by his presence and his silence and the expression of profound repulsion on his face, even though she felt wary and cautious inside, she tried to smile, tried to let him know that she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt when it came to explaining himself.

Evidently, however, he wasn’t willing to extend the same courtesy to her. Because instead of smiling back—even sheepishly—or offering an explanation for his presence in her room—even a lame one about fondling her underwear—Leo only frowned and shook his head slowly, his expression suggesting he was disgusted by the very sight of her.

"What are you doing here?" she repeated when he didn’t answer her, the vast emptiness inside her spanning wider, growing colder, with every moment that passed.

"I’m sorry," he finally replied. But there wasn’t an ounce of apology in his voice. "I meant to be out of here before you found me. Time just got away from me, I guess. That’s what happens when I get really, really, really interested in my work."

"But what are you doing here?" she asked a third time, feeling her patience and her willingness to be fair gradually slipping away.

But again, he didn’t answer her question directly. All he offered in response was, "Then again, I don’t see any reason why I should be the one apologizing here. That should be your job. Not that I think an apology will ever come close to making up for what you’ve done. There are other, considerably more effective, ways to deal with something like this."

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, even more confused now. "Of course you should apologize. You came up here without my permission, without telling me, and you’re prying into my computer files. In spite of all the free and easy information readily available on the Internet these days, this still qualifies as a violation of privacy. Where I come from, Mr. Freiberger," she added pointedly, "that qualifies as an offensive action, one that requires an apology."

"And theft, Miss Rigby?" he replied easily, his expression completely impassive now. "You don’t find that offensive?"

Her stomach pitched a bit at his question, but she still didn’t understand. "What are you talking about?"

Apparently tired of dancing around his reason for being there, he hooked his hands loosely, yet somehow threateningly, on his h*ps and told her, "I don’t see why I should apologize when I’m not the one who’s filtered off millions of bucks from my employer’s profits this year. I’m not the one who’s made it a habit to filter off millions of bucks from my employer’s profits every year."

Oh, so he’d found out about that, had he? Lily thought. Well, that rather complicated things, didn’t it? But before she could say a word about his discovery, he started talking again.

"Now, mind you," he went on, "I haven’t had time to dig as deeply or go back as far as I’d like to in all these nice records you so helpfully made to keep track of your activities, but just how the hell long has this been going on?"

Lily didn’t know what to say, wasn’t sure what he wanted from her in response, had no idea what would be prudent when it came to explaining her actions. So she simply answered his question truthfully. "It’s been going on since I started working for Schuyler," she said.

He dropped his mouth open in obvious surprise, as if he hadn’t expected her to admit it. But what was the point in denying it? Lily thought. If he’d been delving into the files and diskettes here in her room—where she had never once tried to hide or mask her activities—then he knew everything there was to know. There was no reason to contradict any of it.

"It’s been going on that long?" he echoed.

She nodded. "Yes."

"You’ve been filtering tens of millions of dollars annually from Kimball Technologies for a full decade?"

"Well, no, not that much," she told him. "When Schuyler first started the business, I could only manage a few thousand dollars annually. It wasn’t until a few years later, when the business really started to take off, that I was able to turn it into millions annually. And then even more years before I could bump it up into eight figures."

For a moment, he only gazed at her in silence. Then, his voice reeking with amazement, he said, "My God, you actually sound like you’re proud of yourself."

She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. "Well, I suppose there’s a certain amount of pride involved," she admitted. "I mean, it hasn’t been easy taking a bit here and a bit there, where no one would miss it. But I managed."

"You managed," he repeated tonelessly. Then, angrily, he added, "You managed to the tune of fifty million bucks this year."

She shrugged again. "Well, the last few years, Kimball Technologies has turned such an enormous profit, I couldn’t resist. I knew nobody would miss the money. Not really. Where was the harm?"

"Nobody would miss it," Leo repeated, obviously extremely annoyed. "You thought nobody would miss the theft of fifty million dollars."

It hit Lily, then, finally, what Leo was implying, what he thought he’d stumbled onto in her records. A huge fist seized her insides and squeezed hard, and a hot wave of disbelief nearly overpowered her. "You think I stole all that money?" she asked, shocked to her very core that he would be capable of believing such a thing about her.