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“Who?”

“It’s Amy,” I say confidently.

“Amy?” His brows furrow and he picks up the file, scanning the pages. “Our barmaid Amy.”

“Uh huh.”

“She worked her last shift last week.” I say, furrowing my brows at her.

“I checked her log in, and the money always seems to go missing the days she works.”

“On the last page, did you know Kate’s log in was used to access your payroll system several times over the last year and Amy’s pay was adjusted?”

“Kate would never,” Brad says sternly.

“No, I know she wouldn’t, but I bet Amy would. The dates match when both Amy and Kate were on shift.”

Brad shakes his head in disbelief, and I take another sip of my coffee.

“So between her moving money to pay herself a bigger salary, your output vs input it’s about 10k difference, my hunch is she’s not putting through the orders and pocketing the cash when working the bar.”

“Fuck,” Brad growls.

“But why?” he huffs in frustration.

“I don’t know, but something’s off. She’s been doing this long enough that it wouldn’t get noticed until now. She’s kind of a smart girl,” I say, somewhat impressed.

“So, looks like I’m adding Amy to my shit list for today.”

I chuckle. “I’d report her to the police. What she’s done is a crime.”

He tosses the files onto the coffee table.

And leans his head back against the edge of the couch.

“Shit, what a mess.”

“Yep,” I say, popping the p.

He smooths a hand up my bare thigh and under my oversized t-shirt. “Thank you for doing this. You’re a very smart woman.”

I bring my hand to my chin as if I were framing my face. “Why, thank you. One of my many talents.”

His hooded eyes darken and he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. I know that look, and it sends a rush of heat to my core.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, plucking my mug out of my hand and placing it on the coffee table. “Why don’t you show me some of your other talents?”

He steals my breath when he reaches over and lifts me into his lap, my bare ass now straddling his thick thighs, his erection wedged between my cheeks and I rotate my hips, earning a deep groan from him.

His hands smooth over my bare skin and squeeze my cheeks.

“Naughty girl, no undies.” He spanks my ass, and I gasp, sending a surge of desire through me.

I trail my index finger slowly down his six pack, tracing the outlines of his artwork. “I love these.” I bite down on my lower lip as my fingers brush over his Adonis belt.

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I call them fuck me lines,” I joke.