Whispers in New York - Book Two

~Chapter 11~

Chapter Song

One More Night - Maroon 5

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Two weeks down and Adriana was successfully running all office operations. She had no idea how they were running the place behind the scenes in the first place. The paperwork was literally everywhere.

The one thing which did add up though, was the cash. Meticulously to the cent. It was almost too perfect!
Every drink purchase, special cigar, entry fee was meticulously accounted for each and every single night.
What she didn't understand, was where it was all going. After all the alcohol expenses, wages, maintenance, fees. There was still a large amount of money left over and only part of that money was banked. The rest seemed to disappear.

Salvatore or Stefano would dismiss Adriana before the bar would switch from daytime bar service to club. She would leave for the night and return in the morning to reconcile all the money made the previous night.
But there was always another pile of cash. A pile she would be instructed to take money from if things 'didn't add up.'

"Where did this money even come from? Shouldn't I be reconciling it?" Adriana would ask on a daily basis during her first week. Eventually after no attempt to give her a response was made she simply accepted the situation and was left to come up with her own theories of where the cash was coming from.

She remained quiet until midweek of week two.

It was a Wednesday night and Salvatore had made his way from downstairs to Adriana's apartment for a dinner break. She had insisted that he was working far too many hours earlier during that same day and that he needed to take care of himself.
She could see what he was doing. Throwing himself into work, absolutely ignoring what had happened to his father. He refused to discuss it, no matter how many times she would try to bring him up, ask Salvatore how he was feeling. He would simply shut down all attempts of his father's death conversation.

So Adriana started to cook for him. He wasn't going to accept verbal counselling; he would damn well accept a meal every now and then.

Salvatore had walked into her apartment and seated himself at the already set table. He had looked up at Adriana who was furious. A look he hadn't seen on her for a very long time.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" She had repeated yanking a small half scrunched up piece of paper from her pocket. She had held it up and between her fingers. "This!" She seethed slamming it down hard onto the table pushing it towards him with only her index finger pressed firmly onto it.

"An ATM receipt?" Salvatore had stated back looking down at the small piece of paper before dipping his spoon into the minestrone soup she had made.

"Yes." She beamed releasing her finger from the paper only to place her hands on her hips in anger. "A receipt showing my account has an extra five hundred thousand dollars!"

The sound of her foot stomping on the floor in her continued attempt to be angry had made him chuckle a little to himself as he filled his mouth with food.

"So?"

"So?" He had shrugged angering her even further.

"So admit that it was you!"

"Petty cash."

"Petty cash!" Adriana had squealed back, "you have got to be kidding me! Is that what all that money laying around the club is? Petty cash? Should I be going out and buying the high quality paper for the printer with it?"