My brain switched from trying to come up with an appropriate apology for Nora to trying to figure out why her grandson, of all people, wanted to meet with me.
Then my stomach dropped with the possible answer. "Is Nora okay? Is that why you called me here out of dance rehearsal?"
He frowned, and his ice-chip eyes flickered. Slightly. "You care about my grandmother."
His tone was strange. I couldn't tell whether he was making an observation or asking a question.
But I supposed my answer was the same either way. "Of course I do. She was my grandmother's best friend."
I wouldn't have thought it possible, but his expression became even colder. It was like watching an iceberg put on yet another layer of ice as he pushed a black file folder toward me with two fingers.
"Then explain this."
There was no mistaking his tone this time. Definitely a command. One I felt compelled to follow.
My first thought as I opened the folder was,Wow, where does somebodyeven get black file folders? Some kind of specialty store, maybe?
But then I saw the bank statements underneath the black leaf, and my second thought stopped the first one cold.Oh, no....
My earlier chant started back up in my head. This time with a pronoun change.He knows! He knows! He knows!
"I'm waiting." Cole's voice sliced through the desert storm blowing between my ears. "If you care so much about Nora, why did you drain all of the funds out of the charity account she set up inyourgrandmother's name?"
Good question.Clear evidence of the wrongdoing I'd hoped to cover up screamed at me from the page.
"Does Nora know?" I didn't dare to look up at him. Guilt had clogged my throat so badly, I could hardly choke out that one sentence. Much less meet his eyes.
An icy beat. Then: "Not yet."
Relief washed over me, temporarily easing the elephant of shame sitting on my chest. "Thank you! I promise to pay the money back into the fund. Every single cent. But thank you so much for not telling her about this."
There came another long beat. So long, I forced my eyes up.
I found Nora's grandson staring down at me with another unreadable expression. "Your relief is unwarranted," he informed me. "I called you here to fire you."
Of course he did. My heart wrenched at the thought of ending my career as a Benton girl, not because I was finally ready to follow my dreams but because of circumstances beyond my control.
But out loud, I had to say, "I understand. That's completely fair. And again, thank you for not telling Nora. I promise you, I will get another job to replace this one and find a way to pay the fund back."
Cole Benton clearly was not hitting the injectables like Rick and his grandmother.His entire forehead creased with lines as he frowned down at me. "You are aware I could have you arrested? Or worse."
Or worse?
I glanced around, noticing for the first time the main thing missing from his black-ice, minimalist office. Any sign whatsoever of a camera.
This was when I began to suspect Triple Ice might be old-school Vegas—the kind of boss who had both an official security team and anunofficialone, usually linked to some crime outfit. Could those rumors about the Benton Worldwide CEO being best friends with the head of the Los Lobos Cartel be true?
Cole Benton presented a stiff, all-business image to the world at large. But in private, who knew what he did to the people who crossed him?
I gulped and answered, "Totally aware. But if you're planning to punish me in ways much worse than losing a job I truly treasured, could you wait until I'm finished paying the fund back? I just need a few more months to make this up to your grandmother and mine."
Cole Benton stared at me. In a way that felt violent, though he'd yet to move. "Why don't you start yourpaybackby telling me exactly why you stole the money in the first place?"
My stomach twisted at the invitation to tell my side of the story.
If I told him the truth, maybe there was a chance he wouldn't sic his Los Lobos shadow security on me. I might even be able to keep my job on the Benton Girls Line.
But another glance at his hard, cruel face told me confessing wasn't an option. If I threw the real thief underneath the bus, how would I be able to live with myself?
