Hate to Love You(90)
I looked around, both repelled and fascinated. I’d never been to a party like this. The sexual watershed left me cold but the drugs and booze made me sweat. I was angry with James for leaving and angry with myself for being angry. The urge to share a spliff with the skinny blonde in bondage-wear was hard to resist. Alarm bells were ringing all over the place and I had to get out of there. Mindful of my professional duties, I found Sr Doria and made my excuses.
He waved me off, telling me to indulge myself whatever way I fancied. Well I fancied a lot of ways but I indulged my empty stomach and then escaped to my room. Literally, because on the way I got pounced on by a randy partygoer. I was mumbling to myself, angry and frustrated and craving a hit when he waved his dick and asked point blank for a quickie. It was pretty pathetic and I didn’t feel threatened but I needed to let off steam. Luckily, my stint as a homeless teenager taught me where to kick.
While he wheezed and cursed I slipped my shoes off and sprinted to the third floor. Panting heavily, I ran into my room, slid the bolt home and rested against the door. Then I jumped out of my skin. Greg was on my bed, naked to the waist, looking me up and down as though I was another frozen treat. He was drinking something with plenty of dark Bacardi. I could smell it across the room.
He patted the mattress. “Come over here, Betty.”
Oh for bloody hell’s sake!
I’d had enough of men popping up on me and creeping me out, and I’d had enough of watching people indulge. The carefully knitted rope holding me together felt pretty effing fragile. I prided myself on my ability to “Just Say No,” but resisting temptation had taken every last molecule of willpower I had.
I wanted a hit so badly I could taste it, could see myself heading back and snorting, shooting and popping anything and everything on offer. Drowning in vodka straight from the bottle. I threw my shoes at Greg and bared my teeth.#p#分页标题#e#
“Get the hell out of my room.”
His eyes went wide and he scrambled off the bed. “Calm down, Lizzie. It’s just a courtesy call to give you the heads up. I’ve got two pussies desperate and waiting for me down the corridor.”
Ugh! “Spill or get out.”
He smacked his lips. “Patricia and a blonde with massive tits. She’s—”
“Not about that! What did you want to tell me?”
His sly look was tinged with relish. “James phoned about the emergency. In case you hadn’t heard, it appears someone’s been sticking their gorgeous little fingers into the euro biscuit tin. We found out the day before you came back to work. Client funds have gone missing from several Spanish accounts. James asked me not to say anything because you’re under suspicion.”
My jaw dropped along with the penny. “Me?”
Greg shrugged. “James wanted to know which accounts I gave you access to. The money missing is from client accounts you do fiduciary deposits for.”
I gawped at him, dismayed. Did James really think I would steal from our clients? I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to ease the pounding in my forehead.
“I was going to tell you about some irregularities I noticed but then my parents died and... Damn it, I forgot!”
“Sure you did,” Greg said. He walked up and shoved his glass under my chin. “Drink up Liza, you know you want to.”
I slapped the glass away, spilling some of his drink on my dress.
“Don’t you want to know what I said? I told James I gave you my banking codes and you did the transfers. You insisted, if I remember correctly. I distinctly recall you saying you wanted to practice.”
I was horrified. “But that’s the truth. I needed to get to grips with the fiducs. Those accounts are so convoluted, especially the Swiss ones and—”
His gleeful laugh cut me off. “James is in deep shit if he doesn’t find the money. Such a shame if his negligence gets him fired.”