I pinch an imaginary zipper across my lips and wink at her.
She beams. “Don’t make me put my sleuth hat on, chickie. Oh, and there’s donuts in the break room.”
“Thanks, Cammy.” I smile and take a picture of the roses. And then I take a selfie in front of them and check it out.
My smile drops. What am I doing? What was he doing?
Three years. He remembers me from that night? I didn’t think he did.
He’s Ray’s boss now, technically, and why is he sending me flowers and asking for a selfie and talking about a smile from three years ago?
It would be rude to ignore his request, but why would he even make that request? And goofy poetry? Calling my dimples adorable? I don’t know what to make of this.
8
Killian
It’s been an interesting week watching things unfold with both Raymond Iadanza and Violet Rose Gates.
It started getting interesting Sunday night when I got the alert that he’d taken out a second five-hundred-dollar advance from a casino ATM within twelve hours. It had begun.
His descent.
I knew it wouldn’t take long, that the lights and action of Atlantic City along with the other traps I’d set in advance would reel in an addictive personality like his. I intentionally left him to his own devices on Sunday and it was working like a charm.
He was given an electronic package with his directives including a list of spots to mystery shop at for me. He was supposed to get covert photographs and make lists of specific things. Reports were due daily, except Sunday. That package also had a list of his allowances for his expense account. And he’d gone over. Each day. This told me he barely paid attention to that section of the dossier, but regardless, my assistant had him sign the employee contract and take a snapshot and send it to her an hour after he landed and before she activated the Amex card for him.
I even told him to look over the contract before he signed it and contact me if he had any questions. He didn’t call.
It was a fool’s errand, designed to get him out of town and to put him in a position of facing temptation after temptation, so that he’d have to come back and answer to me for what I knew would be the outcome – going over the budget in his expense account.
And only three days in, it’s obvious – he’s living large on my tab and now he’s taking out multiple cash advances a day. And that’d cut into the money he thought he had to pay Henny when he got back.
The contract listed a generous daily allowance for food, drinks, and gambling and his room and transportation were covered. He’s been splashing out on top shelf booze and surf n’ turf dinners and using the company card like it’s a free-for-all.
He clearly did what most people do when they see a long contract. Skim fast, stop reading after three or four lines of legalese, and then just sign the bottom.
He didn’t take the bait on Friday night with the prostitute that was paid to tempt him. But on Saturday night, he took two other girls back to his room. This wasn’t prearranged, just fortuitous. Also fortuitous but arranged was that what happened up in his room was recorded. I have footage of him stopping one from giving him a blowjob, though he looked tempted, like he was warring with his conscience. Then, he watched the two girls go down on one another at his command, while he jacked off. He didn’t fuck either of them, but did he think that meant he was being faithful to his girl?
Would Violet see it that way if she saw the video? He paid them three hundred bucks a piece and let them clean out his mini bar on the way out, looking ready to pass out with his bottle of top shelf scotch and his spent dick hangin’ out.
He’d also done a lot of gambling, beyond the two hundred and fifty bucks a day limit his employment contract stipulated. The contract told him if he won, the winnings were his. I knew he’d get a taste and lose control. And it happened sooner than expected. As of only Sunday night, things were already going the way I envisioned. What is he thinking? Is he thinking pulling a grand off the card? Is he thinking he’ll win and give some money back? Is he even thinking?
Now, Wednesday, the day before he’s due back, my interest is more than piqued as I got footage from a friend in the business who had him in one of his private lounges. He sent me footage of Raymond doing three lines of blow while getting a lap dance.
This morning, I told my assistant to freeze the company Amex Ray was given and send him a text that he’s gone over his spending limit per his employment contract.