Page 50 of Camp Bliss
That money is allocated to construction and development.
That money—or at least a healthy chunk of it—is borrowed.
That money has to be paid back.
“W-What are we supposed to do? He’s totally fucked us.”
Zach’s nostrils flare as he inhales. It’s clear that he’s been thinking about this for a while. Hours, maybe? And I’m finally catching up.
I’m such a moron.
He opens his mouth to speak, but I launch in.
“When? When did you notice about the money?”
“Pretty soon after I left your cabin.” He winces. “Sorry. I would have told you but—”
He has no reason to apologize.
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I couldn’t deal. I screamed at you to leave.”
His whole posture tenses. “As you were well within your rights to do.” The words are as stiff as his shoulders.
We stare at each other for a moment. I get what he’s saying. Who are we to each other without Josh?
We’re not friends.
Are we still partners?
The uncomfortable moment stretches out forever.
I clear my throat. “So. What do we do now?”
ChapterNine
ZACH
At nine a.m. Monday morning,Greta and I walk into the First Horizon branch on Johnston Street. After researching our options, the easiest way for us to protect what we have left is to close our current accounts and open new ones.
Because, technically, Josh hasn’t done anything we didn’t allow him to do.
I still can’t get over that—even though I should know better.
Because all three of us were equal account managers, because only one of us was required to authorize transactions, Josh was within his rights to take the money and run.
And even though I want to ignore the fact that he could have takenall of it,he didn’t. Does that make his back-stabbing any better?No.
But he must have known that if he did that, Greta and I would have nothing. And maybe he didn’t want to completely ruin us.
Fucking us over must have been enough.
I glance at Greta beside me as we wait on the branch manager to bring us the paperwork. Greta looks like a stranger. Then again, I probably do too. We’ve traded our regular uniform of shorts and t-shirts for more professional looks today. So instead of dressing like farm hands, we look like…
Like business partners.
Greta’s wearing this blouse and blazer combo that she probably used to wear for parent-teacher conferences, and I have on what I’ve dubbed my Deposition Suit. Not one of my best—my best suits were reserved for court days or meeting with our biggest clients at Hartley, Merrimen, and Volkl.
But we both look uncomfortable as hell.
