.
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу - страница 9
Of course, this wasn’t illegal. He owned the company and could do whatever he wished with the profits, as long as he met all his corporate obligations. The vendors were still being paid, payroll still met and all the taxes were handled on time, so technically he was meeting them. But the advertising budget had been sliced in half, and lately whenever an employee quit, they were not replaced. Other employees were asked to tighten their belts and double down to help the company get through this crisis.
Crisis. The word sent a knife edge of worry through those who depended on their jobs to provide for their family. After all, Red Ridge wasn’t exactly a mecca of jobs. So, of course, everyone pitched in, worked longer hours and did what they had to do in order to help Colton Energy survive. She’d done the same thing herself, determined to do her part to keep the company afloat.
Except after reading these reports, she could clearly see there would be no problem if her father weren’t running through money like crazy. He’d always liked five-star restaurants, expensive cars and high-maintenance women. She’d assumed his salary was adequate to cover that lifestyle, since he made almost twice as much as she did, but apparently it wasn’t. Not by a long shot.
Damn.
How many people were aware of what her father was doing to the company, she wondered. Surely the VP of accounting knew, and probably Fenwick’s assistant, at the very least.
Her phone pinged. Another text. Her siblings had all made contact, via text or phone messages, offering their support.
As she stood up and stretched, another realization struck her. Not only had her father lied to his employees, but he’d lied to her. He’d actually convinced her of the necessity of her marrying Hamlin Harrington, a man she didn’t love—or even like, for that matter. He’d claimed this would be the only way to save Colton Energy, as Hamlin had promised a fresh influx of cash. Millions, to be specific.
But would the money even go to the company, or would it end up in Fenwick’s personal accounts? Would he then spend it all on lavish vacations, exotic cars and his model girlfriends?
Except...even a lifestyle as lavish as her father’s couldn’t burn through this much money so fast, could it? There had to be something else, something she’d missed.
No matter what the truth was, Layla had been played for a fool. Closing the file, she sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. While she prided herself on being a team player, on giving her job her all, the time had come to speak to her father. She needed answers, and most of all, she needed his assurances that he’d stop hurting his own company. Too many employees, herself included, would be destroyed if Colton Energy went under.
Pacing the confines of her corner office, she eyed the windy outdoors. Not in the mood to walk outside in the chilly air, she decided to go for a walk around the office to clear her head. Since her third-floor office was right next to her father’s executive suite, she elected to head down to the second floor, where the bulk of the sales force worked. Privately, she often thought the busy sales department was the hub of the company. Noisy and boisterous, with constantly ringing phones, salespeople pitching their product, she always felt upbeat whenever she visited. The positive energy simply hummed from every desk. Corny, but true.
In contrast, the executive floor—her floor—felt somber and too quiet. As if the weight of the company sat like a heavy quilt over everything.
Striding toward the elevators, she pressed the button for the lobby. The doors opened almost immediately and she stepped inside, please to see she had this elevator alone. Perfect, since she wasn’t in the mood for speaking with anyone after the startling revelations of a moment ago. She’d come in super early, as was her normal habit, though this time doing so also helped her avoid anyone staring, whispering or sharing gossip about her.
The elevator stopped on the second floor. As the doors opened, she was surprised to see Hunter Black heading toward her. She frowned, guessing he’d come from the Mark Hatton’s office. But then she caught sight of the adorable little dog padding alongside him, and all apprehension vanished.
“Oh my goodness,” she said, dropping to her knees on the elevator floor, heedless of her expensive suit. “What a cutie. Who is this? What’s her name?”
Hunter grinned, startling her with how devastatingly handsome he was. “This is Goose. She’s my little partner.”
“Goose?” she asked, startled. “I bet there’s an interesting story behind that name.”
Clearly pleased by the question, Hunter shrugged. “She was a silly puppy when she was young. A silly goose. So the name stuck.”
“Too cute.” Charmed, Layla held the doors open while Hunter and the dog settled into the back. With her brown, tan and white coloring, Goose looked like a cross between a beagle and a basset hound. A mutt, as one of her uncles used to like to say, even though Goose was purebred.
Goose, apparently knowing an adoring fan when she saw one, wiggled her entire long body and worked her way as close to Layla as she could get.
“Hey, there,” Layla crooned, leaning in and scratching behind the floppiest set of dog ears she’d ever seen. They felt like velvet and smelled like corn chips, oddly enough. While she’d never had a dog of her own, she’d always wanted one. Only the long hours her job required kept her from getting her own.
That might soon change.
Goose woofed, a low sound of pleasure as she closed her ridiculously cute brown eyes and leaned into Layla’s hand, clearly enjoying the petting.
“She likes you,” Hunter said, his husky voice radiating approval.
“I like her, too.” Layla grinned up at him. “I didn’t know you had a dog.” The instant she’d finished speaking, she blushed. “Sorry. I know I don’t know you all that well. I didn’t mean...”
“It’s all right,” he said, still grinning as he waved away any awkwardness. “Goose is my K9 partner.”
“Really?” Rocking back on her heels, Layla looked from him to the odd-looking Goose and back again. “I thought all police dogs were shepherds or labs.”
“Most are. Goose is a unique dog.”
“Yes, she is. If I had to guess her breed, I’d say a cross between—”
“She’s a purebred basset hound.”
“No.” The denial slipped out before she had time to think. While she might not own a dog, she’d spent countless hours learning about each breed so that when she was finally ready, she’d know which one was for her. “Goose looks like a cross between a basset hound and a—”
“Beagle,” he finished for her. “Yes, I know.”
Belatedly, she realized she might have just offended him. “I’m sorry.” She kissed the top of his dog’s head before climbing to her feet and dusting off her slacks. “Whatever she is, she’s adorable.”
He frowned, letting her know she had inadvertently said the wrong thing. “Again, she’s purebred. I bought her from a breeder. I have papers. I chose this particular breeder because they don’t breed