“I’ll be fast,” Ivy assured Steele.
“I don’t like you going in by yourself,” he growled.
“The bad guys aren’t in the bank,” she assured him, crossing her fingers by her side so he didn’t see. Mr. Harris wouldn’t attack her in the bank. She was sure of it.
“Five minutes and then I’m coming in.”
Ivy didn’t answer, but opened the door. Straightening her traditional suit jacket, she walked to the entrance. She could feel the effects of her injury as she moved, thanking Steele for vetoing her usual heels for flats. Making a big scene in the parking lot by falling off stilettos would not have aided her attempts to get in and out quickly.
Waving at the employees as she walked to her office, Ivy was glad to see everyone greeted her warmly this time. Virginia and Beatriz had erased Mr. Harris’s attempts to turn her into the reason for everyone’s additional hours. After opening her file cabinet, Ivy pulled one folder out and turned to leave.
The door was in sight when Mr. Harris appeared next to her. He stopped her with a firm hand on her arm. “I thought you were out for two weeks for your… injury?”
Ivy bristled at his implication that she hadn’t been hurt. “I am. No electronics for two weeks. I wanted to practice with data on paper, so I came to get a sample to work with.”
“What’s that?” Mr. Harris held his hand out for the folder.
“Oh, just some data about bank usage in different age ranges. Lots of numbers and statistics,” Ivy answered, flipping through the pages. “It’s an excellent test to see if my mind can handle pulling this information together.”
He continued to extend his hand for the folder. Reluctantly, she handed the packet of papers to him. Ivy held her breath as he scanned several pages. “This is extensive data for simply bank usage,” he observed when he looked back at Ivy.
“Definitely. I know Nations Bank has closed several branches around the state to lower staffing needs and replaced them with ATMs and phone support services. Looking at this data helps us know whether that would be a good move for us as well,” she improvised, fighting the fogginess of her brain to satisfy his questions.
To her delight, he looked pleased and handed the folder back to her. “I’m intrigued by your conclusions. Let’s meet next week and you can share your findings.”
“Definitely, sir. If you’ll excuse me, my head is throbbing again.”
“Of course. Get yourself back to normal for next week,” he directed as he turned to walk away.
Ivy walked as fast as her head would allow to the door. She waved at Virginia as she approached, but didn’t stop to chat. Her five minutes were almost up, and Steele wouldn’t hesitate to follow her. As she reached the door, it opened.
“I’m here. Sorry. I had to stop and talk.” Ivy stepped outside and wrapped her hand under Steele’s arm for stability. “Let’s get to the car.”
A few minutes later, she rested her head against the car seat and willed her thoughts to stop spinning around in her mind. Ivy closed her eyes to block out the bright sun and struggled to pull herself together. It was vital for her to hold it together at the next meeting. When Steele linked his fingers with hers, she clung to him, feeding on his strength.
“Mr. Harris isn’t going to the meeting?” Steele observed, and she realized he must have seen the bank president when Steele opened the door.
“No. Not this meeting.”
Steele started the car and drove toward the main bank branch. The board president had requested to meet there. Ivy had only walked inside the impressive institution a few times. It gave off such a vibe of old-world security and tradition that she couldn’t imagine anything bad happening there.
“Who are you meeting with, Little girl?”
“Can I just tell you everything when this is over?” she asked, not opening her eyes.
“I don’t like this, Ivy. I can’t protect you once you’re out of my view.”
“I’ll be fine. Hopefully, I get this fixed now and it will all be over.” She squeezed his hand before adding, “Thank you, Daddy, for being here to support me and understanding that there are some things I have to do on my own.”
“My mind can understand everything, but my heart is telling me to turn around and head back to the compound to keep you safe.”
“Soon,” she promised, opening her eyes to look over at him. “All I want is to be there now, too. We never talked about how we’ll handle this when I’m healthy again.”
“I know you will have time at the bank, but when you’re off the clock, you’re with me. At all times, you are my Little girl even when you have to be professional,” he answered, simplifying everything.
“Are we going to keep living together?” she asked.
“Of course. We’ll decide whether we want to be at the compound or at your house.”
“Where do you want to be?”
“With you,” he answered honestly as he pulled into the parking lot of the massive building.
Ivy stared at the massively built biker whose fierce outside hid a tender but completely stern Daddy inside. “I just want to be with you, too, Daddy.”
“Then we work everything else out.”
After backing the car into a parking spot with a wide view of the building and the entrance, Steele turned off the engine. As Ivy reached for the door release, he covered her thigh with one powerful hand, tethering her in place. “What floor are you going to, Ivy?”
“The third floor, Steele. Let me handle this. You promised.”
“I won’t come in unless you call me or I see trouble. Then all promises are void.”
“Thank you, Daddy. It may take a while.”
“I have nothing more pressing to take care of, Little girl.”
He released her leg, and Ivy forced herself to leave the safe bubble that Steele always wrapped around her. Her head had recovered a lot from the tension rising from her conversation with Mr. Harris. She walked slowly as she calmed her racing heart with deep breaths. She could do this.
Stepping inside the elevator, Ivy forced herself to smile at a professionally dressed executive who joined her just before the doors closed. She tried to picture Steele dressed in the expensive suit this man wore so well and had to stifle a laugh. Steele would look amazing, but she could already imagine his annoyed scowl.
Getting off at the third floor, Ivy walked down the hall to the CEO’s office and checked in with his administrative assistant before taking a seat in the lush outer space. She glanced at the clock several times as she waited, knowing that Steele bristled more with every minute that passed.
“Ms. Jenkins. Mr. Morton will see you now,” the administrative assistant announced and stood to open the door into the inner office.
Carrying the folder by her side, Ivy crossed her fingers, hoping everything would turn out well.
“Mr. Morton, thank you for meeting with me.”
“Ms. Jenkins, may I call you Ivy?”
“Of course.”
“Please call me Richard.”
Ivy smiled. “Thank you, Richard.”
She perched on the edge of the seat and waited until he sat and looked at her. “Since the disappearance of the money from that account, I’ve tried to be vigilant to anything that appeared out of the norm. You may be aware that I was abducted from the bank as I left about a week ago. They taped my mouth when I refused to turn over the codes they demanded. I feared for my life as I was bound and wrapped in a sack before the three attackers threw me into the dumpster of The Hangout. Had a member of the Shadowridge Guardians not investigated the banging coming from the dumpster, I could have ended up in a compactor truck and killed.”
“I saw the police report. How are you feeling? I know the doctor wanted you to have time away from electronics for your brain to heal,” Mr. Morton said with a concerned expression.
Something was off. His concern didn’t reach his eyes. Hoping it was just her imagination, Ivy answered, “I am much better than immediately after the incident. It was terrifying, and I know I’ll never forget being tormented.”
“And your share of the codes is what got you attacked?”
“Since they continue to demand my codes, yes.”
“That’s concerning.”
“It is. Let me share with you the information I’ve gathered.” She opened the folder and placed the first sheet on his desk.
“Differences in bank usage among age groups? I don’t understand…”
“I hid the information I found in this report. Look at the first line. Those are an account number. Would you type it into your computer and we’ll look at it?”
Mr. Morton shook his head as if this were a crazy waste of time but turned to his computer and typed in the number. An account popped up with a balance of two hundred and forty-seven dollars. “What am I looking at, Ivy?”
“Leave that window open and open the account of the next set of numbers.”
“Almost four million dollars.”
“Look at the date.”
When he looked up at her with a serious expression, she continued, “I can track the movement of money from inactive accounts like the one we found previously and this smaller one that originally held a bit over five thousand dollars into the multimillion-dollar account. Someone did it using one of the codes divided up between the three of us for access. It does not match with my codes.”
“Is this code listed on this page?” Mr. Morton asked.
“It is the sample number of the survey listed about midway down the page.”
She watched him trail a finger down the document until he reached that line. His finger froze there as he read the code. “Do you know whose code this is?”
“If it isn’t yours, it must be Mr. Harris’s. Would you like to start a conference call with him?”
“Not at the present.” He brushed off that suggestion before requesting, “Tell me. I’m assuming this document has other account examples. Who else have you shared this information with?”
“There is only one other copy of that information. It is in the quarters of the president of the Shadowridge Guardians,” Ivy shared.
“That is in violation of bank regulations.”
“I have been abducted, thrown into a dumpster to be crushed, and chased by maniacs in a white van. To be honest, possibly breaking bank violations is the least of my worries. The file will remain untouched there as long as I am safe.”