Free The CEO Gets Her Man by Anne Ashby Page A

quiver.
    After a short pause George continued. “The problem is she’s already cut his budget to the bone. How he manages to still produce acceptable fare is a credit to his ability.” George took to pacing across his tiny office. “When he explained this, she exploded quicker than a firecracker and stormed away. First I knew about the whole incident was when Philippe presented me with the formal written warning delivered by her PA.”
    Debra hadn’t been here long enough to gain a strong impression of the chef everyone treated like a god. But his kitchen appeared to run smoothly and the meals produced—yes, she agreed with George—were of a very high quality.
    “So she’s already made previous cutbacks in the kitchen?”
    George stopped pacing long enough to nod.
    “When was this?”
    “At the beginning of this last quarter.”
    Around the time I sent Peter Robinson down.
    “At our management meeting she demanded we tighten everything. She wanted to decrease staff but Jase fought her on dismissing anyone—although he agreed to not replace anyone who left.” His lips twisted into what could almost be a smile. “He objected to me hiring you.” The pacing continued. “But he wasn’t going to let her start firing people without a fight.”
    Debra’s fingers worried her lips. There had been no instruction issued from Head Office to lower the hotel’s running costs. Despite this being an obvious response to lack of profits, and one Peter Robinson should have highlighted, he hadn’t.
    Debra’s lips tightened. Madeline Murphy must have been very pleased with his report. So why order any tightening of their budget? Alarm bells began clanging in her ears.
    “Show me your accounts for the last six months.”
    She frowned as George turned to a filing cabinet in the corner of his office. “Why aren’t these on computer?” she demanded as folders were placed in front of her.
    “The manager insists each department keep hard copies of our accounts.”
    “Does she, indeed?” Debra repositioned her chair closer to George’s desk, her stomach churning as concerns of mismanagement were replaced with the possibility of a far darker enterprise being carried out.
    “So the reports to Head Office come from...?”
    “I couldn’t be certain. Her PA, I guess. Claire picks up our account books every Friday morning—”
    “And collates all the figures for the weekly report,” Debra mused, her brain belting along at the speed of a bullet train.
    “Thank you, George. Go and do whatever,” she dismissed him, not even considering she was in his office, or that she should be waiting tables in the dining room. “I want to check a few things. Come back in an hour and I’ll have something for you to do.”
    Thirty minutes was more than enough time for Debra to accept their chef was indeed doing a sterling job maintaining the kitchen with an already very tight budget. His skills lay far beyond meal preparation and presentation. He was a genius at adaptation.
    George’s files were sitting on the corner of his desk when he returned. Debra drummed her fingers on the desk top, her mind buzzing. A quick call to her PA had confirmed conflicting entries. George’s version of expenditures from the kitchen was vastly different from the records presented to Head Office.
    She spun around as soon as he entered. “Can you get me the accounts from other departments?” Before he could answer she quickly added, “Discreetly. Very discreetly.”
    “Ahh—”
    “Housekeeping, reception, maintenance. I’ve already glanced through your bar records.” She made no excuse for searching his filing cabinet. After all, this was her business—a business being fleeced.
    “I doubt I could sneak them out during office hours. But I should be able to get them later on tonight. Is that soon enough?”
    Debra nodded. “As soon as you get them, I’ll go through them and you can put them straight back. I don’t need long, not now I know what