Free Showbiz, A Novel by Ruby Preston Page B

accounts. She checked the third show month and found the same withdrawal. She quickly paged through the other non-show months. No sign of the withdrawal.
                  It can’t be, she thought. And, anyway, if they were payouts, why did the third show get panned? It didn’t make sense. She wondered how she could ask Margolies without revealing that she had been snooping. She closed the file and quickly put it back, feeling disloyal to the man who was making her career and the careers of so many others.
                  On her way out of his office, she pushed closed one of the file drawers along the wall that had been ajar. It bounced back open. She paused to see what the problem was. It was a file cabinet that she maintained. It had files for every investor over the years, with current show investors in front and past years’ investors in the back. It was records of their contracts, checks, and correspondence.
                  She saw Lawrence’s file, one of the thickest, alongside all the other investors’, most of whom she knew well by now. Many of them had thick files of their own, since Margolies’ Midas touch brought them back, show after show. More than a few stalwarts had been faint of heart about Olympus , however, worried that the unprecedented costs were just too risky an investment. Still, they had convinced several of the regulars to invest.
                  An unmarked file caught her eye. It was sticking up, keeping the cabinet from closing. That’s strange, she thought. Maybe the intern got lazy. She pulled it out to see what was inside.
                  It contained copies of checks made out to Olympus, LLC . That wasn’t unusual. Every file around it contained the same thing. But every file would not contain three checks for $3,000,000.00 each. The name on the check, M____ Corporation, was a company she didn’t recognize. A new $9 million investor seemed like something she would have heard about. How strange.
                  Just then she heard the front door of the office open. Not sure what she had just found, she slid it back into the file cabinet and closed the drawer firmly.
                  “Is it filing day already?” Margolies asked , coming up behind her.
                  Is it my imagination, thought Scarlett, or does he sound suspicious?
                  “Uh, no, I was just double-checking an investor’s address for the reception invites,” she lied.
                  “Did you find it?” he asked. His eyes were boring into hers.
                  Does he always look at me this way? she wondered. All of a sudden, she couldn’t remember.
                  “Yes.”
                  “Where is it?”
                  “Where is what?”
                  “The address you said you were looking for!” he responded with frustration.
                  Her hands were empty. She felt her cheeks flush.
                  “I was just, uh, confirming the address. I had it right after all. Just wanted to make sure we didn’t miss anyone. The reception is shaping up to be one of the biggest events of the season, boss.”
                  “Thanks for the news flash,” he said sarcastically as he sat down behind his desk. “Close the door behind you.”
                  She needed to get her wits about her.
                  She checked her phone to see who had called earlier. It had been Margolies. No message. She turned her focus back to the event preparations. Half an hour later, Margolies strode out of the office without a glance her way and with what she was sure was the unmarked file folder under his arm.
                  She breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t realized until then that she had been so tense. She decided to go out to grab coffee.