from the bank and you know all the numbers you have to gather for a bank loan. What a lot of trouble! And then banks aren’t giving out money these days. They’re being really stingy!” Lara hustled to the back room, her voice continuing to waft through the doorway.
Elizabeth stared at the rear of the store. What was up with Lara? Was she afraid Elizabeth would require too many hours from her? Or was it the bank loan itself? Did Lara fear for her job? She’d been laid off once before, so that might be the problem.
Elizabeth shook her head, put the papers aside and went back to checking her online inventory.
The day turned out to be busier than even Elizabeth had anticipated. In addition to the massages and facials they already had booked, several drop-ins wanted make-up sessions. It took both of them to keep things running smoothly.
After Lara left at five-thirty, Elizabeth closed out the register, ran the daily totals, stapled the slips together and slid them into the box she kept for the purpose. Then she glanced out the front window. Seasons were subtle in California, but she could see a slight dullness in the leaves on the sidewalk trees outside her shop. In no time October’s brief Indian summer, and Marcos, would arrive; then the rainy season would begin to drift into the Central Coast.
She pushed aside all thoughts of Marcos.
Winter’s slowdown would give her the time to start her line. But first she needed to get a loan from the bank. Time to start pulling her data together. She punched a few keys and ran year-to-date reports in her bookkeeping program. When the data came up on the screen, she stared at the numbers. They didn’t make sense. She knew they’d been busy most of the year, but the figures seemed off. She drilled down into the numbers and saw the problem. The amount they were spending on products had skyrocketed, almost triple what they’d spent the year before.
She went back to the income line. Her sales were about the same as they had been the year before. Nothing to justify the increase in spending. Her stomach rolled over.
Something was definitely wrong.
Chapter 7
After writing in her journal the next morning, Elizabeth dressed for her run. She needed to think and running was the best way she knew to jog the brain cells.
She’d tossed and turned all night. When she was awake she’d spun over the puzzle of the shop numbers. When she was asleep, Marcos invaded her dreams, leaving her in a hot sweat when she awoke.
She pounded down the wet sand, snowy plovers playing tag with the water, fluttering away when she got too close, only to restart the game when she’d passed.
Such a simple life. Eat, fly, play and have sex. No worrying about early pregnancies, bank loans or sexy birds from Italy. Simple.
Sweat dampened her lower back and added a sheen to her skin.
There had to be an explanation for the numbers. Was there an incorrect invoice somewhere that she’d missed? Normally she watched her invoices like a hawk, but her mother’s illness and the trip to Italy had made her more careless than usual. The only other explanation was that someone was stealing from her.
But who? Lara? She was the only one who had access to the inventory and register other than Elizabeth. Had someone stolen a key? Or could someone have hacked her system?
Her breath became ragged and her head began to ache. She’d have to go over all the paperwork in detail and do an inventory. God, she hated inventory.
She checked her watch and turned around to jog back to her car.
And why was she dreaming about Marcos? She thought she’d put him in a nice little long-distance-relationship box, but he didn’t appear to be staying there. Not when her subconscious took over at any rate! She shivered. The dream had been too real — his hands on her body, filling them with her breasts. Her nipples hardened with this last thought.
She picked up the pace. She would not think about him. She had a business to run and a
Elizabeth stared at the rear of the store. What was up with Lara? Was she afraid Elizabeth would require too many hours from her? Or was it the bank loan itself? Did Lara fear for her job? She’d been laid off once before, so that might be the problem.
Elizabeth shook her head, put the papers aside and went back to checking her online inventory.
The day turned out to be busier than even Elizabeth had anticipated. In addition to the massages and facials they already had booked, several drop-ins wanted make-up sessions. It took both of them to keep things running smoothly.
After Lara left at five-thirty, Elizabeth closed out the register, ran the daily totals, stapled the slips together and slid them into the box she kept for the purpose. Then she glanced out the front window. Seasons were subtle in California, but she could see a slight dullness in the leaves on the sidewalk trees outside her shop. In no time October’s brief Indian summer, and Marcos, would arrive; then the rainy season would begin to drift into the Central Coast.
She pushed aside all thoughts of Marcos.
Winter’s slowdown would give her the time to start her line. But first she needed to get a loan from the bank. Time to start pulling her data together. She punched a few keys and ran year-to-date reports in her bookkeeping program. When the data came up on the screen, she stared at the numbers. They didn’t make sense. She knew they’d been busy most of the year, but the figures seemed off. She drilled down into the numbers and saw the problem. The amount they were spending on products had skyrocketed, almost triple what they’d spent the year before.
She went back to the income line. Her sales were about the same as they had been the year before. Nothing to justify the increase in spending. Her stomach rolled over.
Something was definitely wrong.
Chapter 7
After writing in her journal the next morning, Elizabeth dressed for her run. She needed to think and running was the best way she knew to jog the brain cells.
She’d tossed and turned all night. When she was awake she’d spun over the puzzle of the shop numbers. When she was asleep, Marcos invaded her dreams, leaving her in a hot sweat when she awoke.
She pounded down the wet sand, snowy plovers playing tag with the water, fluttering away when she got too close, only to restart the game when she’d passed.
Such a simple life. Eat, fly, play and have sex. No worrying about early pregnancies, bank loans or sexy birds from Italy. Simple.
Sweat dampened her lower back and added a sheen to her skin.
There had to be an explanation for the numbers. Was there an incorrect invoice somewhere that she’d missed? Normally she watched her invoices like a hawk, but her mother’s illness and the trip to Italy had made her more careless than usual. The only other explanation was that someone was stealing from her.
But who? Lara? She was the only one who had access to the inventory and register other than Elizabeth. Had someone stolen a key? Or could someone have hacked her system?
Her breath became ragged and her head began to ache. She’d have to go over all the paperwork in detail and do an inventory. God, she hated inventory.
She checked her watch and turned around to jog back to her car.
And why was she dreaming about Marcos? She thought she’d put him in a nice little long-distance-relationship box, but he didn’t appear to be staying there. Not when her subconscious took over at any rate! She shivered. The dream had been too real — his hands on her body, filling them with her breasts. Her nipples hardened with this last thought.
She picked up the pace. She would not think about him. She had a business to run and a
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