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  • How to Lose an Accountant in 10 Minutes


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    5:10pm

    June 17th

    Boone Fitzpatrick, Accountant Offices, New York

     

     

    Paper flicked up again, damn limp daily edition.  Beer tipped up, cold… perfect.  He scanned the financials.  Amateurs, it was like everyone with a brain had been toasted in the Nevus.  Good for him, shitty for the resurgence of the world.  The accountant peered around the paper at the clock, his new client was ten minutes late.  Another five and he was splitting, giving his secretary a proverbial “fuck you” message.  He had things to do, not important like saving the world, but goof off, do-nothing bullshit that amused him.  Maybe he would track an old buddy down.  Pharo had nothing for him at the moment, so he had to entertain himself.

     

    Polished shoes plopped on his desk full of papers.  They were random, scattered, in no sort of rhyme or reason.  In his filing system, they were in perfect order.  Fingers swiped a bubble of dribbled beer from the tie that had been pulled loose and was now crooked on his collarbone.  How much money had he made today?  Ridiculous amounts.  Found a massive breech in a local company that had hired him to keep track of employee accounts.  It was a good day.

     

    Where the fuck was his damn appointment?  Watch checked, he went back to a rather juicy story in the paper.  When he was done… he was gone.  He had random hobbies to play with.  Leaning over to his phone, one button pushed called in some food.  He wasn’t lazy, his secretary was just closer to the mini-fridge that held the other half of the sub he had from lunch.  Roast beef, provolone…  toasty, delivered to his fingers as he continued his bachelor style business practice.

     

    “Thanks Joyce…” another swig of beer, more paper, brushing off crumbs from his tie.  When he was done with the sub AND the smutty gossip section of the paper, then he was gone.  Besides, divorces and scandals meant someone needed help with money...  and he was kinda good at that.

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    • 3 weeks later...

    Scowl was etched deep on her brow as the dark Lennon shades "looked" out the window. She had used every argument in the book on why this was a damn bad idea and she had lost every argument gloriously.

     

    Stubborn mule.

     

    Gaspari was going to get himself killed. This guy was NOT family. Carlos had at least been distant family. Of course Carlos had been a dumbass whose death was deserved. What fuck-up accountant steals from the head of the biggest mob syndicate in the world? It was cliché but the ass was at the bottom of the harbor.

     

    But this guy? He had no mob ties, no underground connections. All her snooping and informants had brought up a basic accountant, smart ass personality and a bit of a ladies man. But as the Bakkhos accountant?

     

    What the hell was Gaspari thinking?

     

    The large man beside her simply sat in the car smirking, she could feel the damn grin on his face. What did he know that she didn’t?

     

    Cage brought the car to a stop and she immediately got out her side, walking around to let the boss out only to have him exit on his own.

     

    [npc]…your face is going to get stuck like that Gray if you keep frowning like that.[/npc]

     

    The humor was ignored as the humph exploded from her nostrils. The heather gray pinstripe suit made her seem even taller than her already amazon height as she tugged the door open, dark mahogany pony tail at the back of her head swaying down to her waist as she waited for the mob boss to enter.

     

    The devil's handsome himself, Gaspari smiled at the woman behind the desk, the pit bull could almost hear her flush. God women were simple creatures. She listened as he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, flashing a rolex on his wrist no doubt. She really hated the shmooze part of the job but outwardly she looked properly aloof as she remained standing several paces behind and to the right of Gaspari, her blazer closed to ensure the custom holster beneath was hidden.

     

    [npc]Angelo.. I am here to see Mr Fitzpatrick.[/npc]

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    Last bit of sandwich was stuffed in his mouth, rounding out his cheek as he chewed and swigged the remainder of the beer.  Damn it, a spot of mayo on his tie prompted feet to hit the floor and paw through his desk for a napkin and a bottle of water- rubbing the stain away but leaving the stupid tell tale microscopic shraps of tissue that signaled something had been wiped off.  Ah well, he was done for the day.  Quick fingers undid the tie, leaving the tails hanging on either side of his neck.  Paper folded, he closed out his computer, encrypted with as much security as the world could muster at this point in time.

     

    The rest was in his head.  Encrypted computers were only as good as the code that went in to get it to run.  Compared sometimes to a modern DaVinci with his code-cracking skills... it was what made him one of the best.

     

    Bottle was collected and he made his way to the door, pulling it open to realize he was dressed down and holding a beer bottle while potential clients were just checking in.  Pffffffttttt... like it mattered.  His talent was in his skill.  He dressed up mostly for their comfort, most comfortable in his BDU's and Indiana Jones-ing through the world.  THAT was the excitement, well so was catching large discrepancies in the books.  Seeing people squirm when he found their mistakes was right up there in the adrenaline rush.  Dangerous business sometimes, but so was sticking a muzzle in a zombie's mouth and pulling the trigger.

     

    Eyes flicked nonchalantly to the clock before nodding to his secretary and surveying the two.  He'd been told only one client.  The pause made him glad he had a gun under his desk.  Some people didn't know the difference between an accountant and a bank.  He just figured money. Paper and pencils.  He didn't actually handle any, unless he was skimming of course- which he never did, it was just too damn easy.

     

    "C'mon in," he said warmly, "I was just heading out, but I have some time."

     

    He wasn't lying, but on time was a pet peeve of his.  He had things to do, and an order to deliver.  Gesturing to the nice leather chairs in his office, he didn't bother to retie his tie.  It was officially after hours, plus he was comfortable enough in his own skin not to care.  He handed off the bottle brazenly to his still blushing secretary.

     

    "Call me Paddy, Mr. Fitzpatrick is stuffy speak for my dad."

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    Nostrils flared. Bread…meat…mayonnaise.  The odors of the sandwich assaulted her the moment the office door had been opened. And some swanky beer.  The elegant brows furled over the dark shades. Some professional.
     
    What the hell was Gaspari thinking? The head of Bakkhos had an eidetic memory, everything he heard, read, saw was etched for all time. So there must be something he was yanking out of that cavern between his ears that said this was a good idea but for some reason he was not sharing it with his guard dog.
     
    "C'mon in, I was just heading out, but I have some time."

    Her brow quirked. They had been expected. The attitude was flippant. Did he have any idea who…..
     
    The chuckle from Gaspari bristled the back of her neck. He wasn’t insulted. Of course he wasn’t. He clearly knew something she didn’t and it was driving her crazy.
     
    [npc]Appreciate that. [/npc]
     
    She listened to the woman come around to fetch the bottle, the short shoulder brushing by her arm, the amazon towered over her and when she passed by the second time the head turned slightly to "look" at her. She could feel the skitter around further to ensure contact was not made this time.
     
    It had taken her some time to untrain her body from "killing" the moment she was touched, but that didn’t mean she liked it any more than before. It took time for her to get familiar with people. Even among the Bakkhos she was a bit of an outcast.
     
    "Call me Paddy, Mr. Fitzpatrick is stuffy speak for my dad."
     
    Paddy? That was a strange name for an accountant… or perhaps not. Bunch of bookworms. Though the sound of his voice and weight of his steps told her he was definitely taller and more muscular than the accountants she had known to work for Bakkhos thus far.  Nostrils breathed deep and let the scent of books and leather come over her, nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, at least on the surface.
     
    [npc]Angelo…pleasure to meet you.[/npc]
     
    She listened to him slip the button from his blazer, the shirt beneath a tee instead of a button down. Gaspari wasn’t really a shirt and tie guy unless it was required. As he sat she paused behind the leather chair, hands folded lightly behind her back as the gaze went around the room, dark mahogany tail swaying loose and straight behind her shoulders.
     
    [npc]Well Paddy. I find myself lacking an accountant. I recently fired our last one for skimming off the top.[/npc]
     
    Fired. That was the understatement of the year.
     
    [npc]… I have a number of properties. The casino that is being rebuilt, Satyr Stadium, a hotel, several warehouses, couple clubs, upstate winery, and a few European properties. I am looking for someone to keep the books over all of them and you come highly recommended.[/npc]

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    He was ignoring the brute, but the caretaker he’d decided that was all too quickly peeling her nose up at everything in the room.  His office had good taste, he wasn’t a Neanderthal after all.  She would just have to bite it and let him do business with el suave, ignoring another quirked brow when he chided both of them in his own way for being late.  He was never late- with anything.  Not even in his gallivants around the world.  Numbers were his thing, and his grasp of time was just as commanding.  To be late, was his greatest sin.
     
    •npc• "Appreciate that. "
     
    [boone]No problem, thought you weren’t coming… I have a date with my most recent bike project out in the stix.  Please, take a seat.[/boone]
     
    •npc• "Angelo…pleasure to meet you."
     
    He nodded.
     
    •npc• "Well Paddy. I find myself lacking an accountant. I recently fired our last one for skimming off the top."
     
    Obvious.  He took his seat back at the chair, firing up the computer and putting in a series of codes that changed every time.
     
    •npc• "… I have a number of properties. The casino that is being rebuilt, Satyr Stadium, a hotel, several warehouses, couple clubs, upstate winery, and a few European properties. I am looking for someone to keep the books over all of them and you come highly recommended."

     

    He chuckled quietly, [boone]And I was lucky enough for you to land through my door.  I just finished up a rather large account, so I have a little bit of time.[/boone]  To most, it would sound like ego.  With him, it was pure truth.  [boone]I need to meet each of your CFO’s first.  If I don’t like them, I’ll have to pass.  If I do, I’ll take the job.  I have a corner space in my schedule that I need to fill.[/boone]

     

    He sat back in his plush chair, fingertips tapping on the arms a few moments before he leaned elbows forward on his desk and folded his fingers.  [boone]I’ll be straight.  CFO’s piss me off.  If you fired your accountant only, you didn’t fire enough.  Skimming off the top is never just skimming off the top.  You’re most likely still bleeding money from the former’s screw ups and I need to plug the hole first.  Smoke screens and all.  You caught the rat, but there’s more that were hiding underneath.  I’ll need to meet your CFO’s and see the last report of last year, and the last from this year from each of the institutions.  I won’t clean up rats, but I will clean up books.[/boone]

     

    A few keystrokes were quiet on his computer.

     

    [boone]…but I can tell you who the rats are, that’ll be fun,[/boone]  the quirky smile flicked a moment before he leaned back in his chair.  [boone]And honestly, if I were skimming, you’d never catch me.  Thought I’d let you know in the interest of full disclosure.  There’s always rats. When I stop brining them to your attention, then you can be suspicious.  Your CFO’s have time now?  I’m still hungry, we can do dinner and I can feel them out.  If they could bring their homework it would be even better.[/boone]

     

    He didn’t waste time.  In a few moments, he’d know where the leftovers were… and he could get to work.

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    • 1 month later...

    Chin made the slightest movement over her shoulder, she was listening beyond the closed door to the woman on the other side. Making sure she wasn’t doing anything stupid like calling for reinforcements, or the cops, or even was herself a hired gun for the accountant, though from the mere way she had carried herself and skittered wide of the headliner, the pitbull doubted it.

     

    Still…lack of trust was one of her best….and worst qualities. Mahogany swayed as the chin faced forward once more, the contact laden eyes still hidden behind the dark shades as she listened to the very nuances of the man Gaspari had chosen as their next potential bookkeeper.

     

    Small talk…. She hated it… was bad at it…… but Gaspari, like warm brandy he could pour over a room and tantalize a crowd with the mundane.

     

    The soft clack of keys was almost too loud in the office space, tickling her ears. She could trace each rhythmic keystroke, which would be far more impressive if she had ever learned the letters of a keyboard.

     

    [boone] I need to meet each of your CFO’s first. If I don’t like them, I’ll have to pass. If I do, I’ll take the job. I have a corner space in my schedule that I need to fill. [/boone]

     

    She caught herself before she snorted her amusement. CFOs? Who exactly in Bakkhos had THAT position? Surely not Lucky, Carmine, or Nuzio? …. If they were anything they were COOs… or maybe VPs? But then again, the accountant had reported to each of them directly on all the properties so maybe they were CFOs. Surely the boss was not planning to have him go talk to them directly before he was locked in. They wouldn’t like being "interviewed" by the new accountant.

     

    Gaspari was setting up something that might damn well explode. What the hell was he thinking?

     

    [boone] I’ll be straight. CFO’s piss me off. If you fired your accountant only, you didn’t fire enough. Skimming off the top is never just skimming off the top. You’re most likely still bleeding money from the former’s screw ups and I need to plug the hole first. Smoke screens and all. You caught the rat, but there’s more that were hiding underneath. I’ll need to meet your CFO’s and see the last report of last year, and the last from this year from each of the institutions. I won’t clean up rats, but I will clean up books. [/boone]

     

    They had already found a few of those "rats" hiding "underneath". There was great advantage to having ears like hers working for the boss.

     

    [boone] …but I can tell you who the rats are, that’ll be fun. [/boone]

     

    [npc]Indeed…[/npc]

     

    She could hear the friendly smirk in his single word response. For the first time there was a chink in the stoic armor of her own; a ghost of a grin tugging at the corner of her lips. All she needed was names, that was if Gaspari would let her after them, lately the head of Bakkhos seemed to steer the hard core protection away from his personal bodyguard. It was a small fact that annoyed her and was bringing them to a sure confrontation but everytime it was beginning to boil somehow the grand opening of Satyr came up and the head on collision was avoided.

     

    [boone] …..And honestly, if I were skimming, you’d never catch me. Thought I’d let you know in the interest of full disclosure. There’s always rats. When I stop bringing them to your attention, then you can be suspicious. Your CFO’s have time now? I’m still hungry, we can do dinner and I can feel them out. If they could bring their homework it would be even better . [/boone]

     

    Brow quirked upward as the deep rumble of laughter bubbled up from Gaspari. He liked the guy. That was just great.

     

    [npc]Well I appreciate your honesty Boone. My accountant reported directly to my……board of directors…[/npc]

     

    Brow quirked again, that was ONE way of titling them.

     

    [npc]…. the heads of all my businesses used him to keep their overall budgets with junior accountants running their day to day books. [/npc]

     

    Strong fingers brushed some unseen lint from the arm of the chair he was sitting in before speaking again.

     

    [npc]….few of them are…gone.. as well. He was rolling the numbers up to me but it became clear when I did some checking in the individual businesses that the numbers were not right. I know the cancer is still deeper and want to be sure it is weeded out. Three heads for my major businesses, one is upstate running the winery so you won't be able to meet him until he comes down or you go up there to look at winery's books. One is currently up at the casino, you might have heard it was part of the bombing attacks. And the last is currently in Spain, he runs our import/export division.[/npc]

     

    Shit, she hadn't thought of that, meant the only one in New York was Lucky. THAT should go swimmingly.

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