Tomorrow morning he would undoubtedly start to sweat, big-time, thinking about why he’d decided to share more about his past with Brooke than he ever had with anyone else.

But right then, with her lying in his arms, he wouldn’t change a thing.

Twenty-four

SAFE TO SAY, Friday was not a banner day for Sterling Restaurants.

Brooke spent the majority of her afternoon in her office with Keith, Sterling’s VP of security, who’d received an anonymous call earlier in the week from a woman claiming to work at one of the restaurants at the United Center. She’d told Keith that the general manager of the restaurant had been stealing from the company for the last few months by voiding out cash sales from the point-of-sale machine at the end of the night.

At first, both Brooke and Keith had been skeptical.

“Dave’s been with Sterling for seven years,” she’d said, referring to the general manager in question. “He and Ian golf together all the time. He wouldn’t steal from the company, let alone a friend.”

“Could be a disgruntled employee or ex-employee trying to make trouble,” Keith had said.

“We’ll find out soon enough.” They’d agreed that Keith would conduct an immediate internal investigation and report back to her.

And now they knew.

“I’d really hoped this one would go the other way,” Keith said. Even the normally unflappable VP of security looked dejected after filling Brooke in on the results of his internal audit. Bottom line: the allegations against the general manager appeared to be true.

Brooke sighed, a mixture of frustration, anger, and disappointment. Firing some random homophobic jerk she’d never met was easy, but she knew Dave Lyons—he was a senior-level employee whose wife she enjoyed chatting with every year at the company holiday party. “I’ll talk to Ian and bring him up to speed. He’s going to be crushed.”

“For what it’s worth, I think Dave is in trouble financially,” Keith said. “I’m hearing rumors about a gambling problem.”

That certainly didn’t make Brooke feel any better about the situation. “When do you plan to talk to him?”

“He should be at the restaurant now,” Keith said. “Figured I would get this over with before the weekend.”

Agreeing with that, Brooke counseled Keith on the various questions he should—and more important, should not— ask when he interviewed the general manger. When they’d finished, and Keith had left to head out to the United Center, Brooke went to see Ian in his office.

She knocked on his door. “Got a minute?”

Sitting in front of his computer, he waved her in. “Absolutely. Just checking out the Bears’ schedule in advance of your big meeting and making sure I have all the home games on my calendar. Kidding.” He paused when he saw her expression. “Oh, boy. I know that look.” He turned in his chair and faced her, never one to beat around the bush. “Tell me.”

“We think Dave Lyons has been stealing from the Stadium Club.”

Ian’s expression went from surprise to disbelief. “No way. Dave and I have known each other for years. He was the manager I hired to run my first restaurant.” He shook his head. “There must be some mistake.”

“Keith is heading over to the United Center now to talk to him. But he’s already done an internal audit and it looks pretty incriminating,” Brooke said. “I’m sorry, Ian. Keith said he’s hearing rumors about Dave possibly having some financial issues, maybe a gambling problem. But that part is just speculation at this point.”

“Aw, hell.” Ian ran a hand over his face. “I knew about his gambling habit, but he never said anything to me about having money problems.” After a moment, he looked at her. “How much do you think he took?”

“Roughly fifty thousand dollars.”

Ian went silent, hearing that. “All right,” he finally said, his tone having turned noticeably more businesslike. “Assuming this turns out to be true, what are our options? I can’t believe I’m going to ask this, because I probably shouldn’t give a crap what happens to Lyons, but . . . I don’t know, if it is a gambling thing, can we have him resign quietly and then work out some kind of private arrangement? He gets himself into Gamblers Anonymous and agrees to pay the company back every penny, that kind of thing?”

And this was one of the reasons Brooke believed in Ian, both as a person and as a CEO. Even when he’d likely been stabbed in the back by someone he’d considered a friend, he cared.

Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that their hands were tied in this particular instance. And, as general counsel, it was her responsibility to advise Ian of that. “If it were one of Sterling’s independent restaurants, that might be something we could consider. But the United Center owns the Stadium Club, and as part of our contract with them we’re obligated to report all known instances of employee theft to the police.”

And the news didn’t get any better as the afternoon progressed.

Two hours later, Keith called Brooke from the Stadium Club to let her know that he’d met with Dave, and that the general manager had broken down and admitted everything. Over the course of the last six months he’d lost a significant amount of money in gambling, a fact he’d kept from all his friends and family. Not knowing where to turn, he’d started pocketing cash from the restaurant’s POS machine—small amounts at first, and then he’d grown bolder in his desperation.