Time to finish this. [End]

It takes a few minutes to even get your mind back on your damned work.

You can't believe you just fucked your husband in your office. The smell of sex lingers in the air and you can still feel the fullness of his cock buried inside you.

Despite the wonderful distraction, you do manage to return your full attention to work.

As you get to the last pages things still aren't adding up. There was something in the junior accountant Haley's work that stuck out to you. Numbers disappeared from one column to the next. You just corrected them, but here you are at the end and things still aren't adding up.

Paging through Haley's work you find the error again. You go into the accounts and check. Your numbers are right. Her numbers are hiding some-thing. You check the transfer logs on the accounts and find several transfers, none huge, but together adding up to several thousand dollars, all missing from the account.

"She's embezzling!" you exclaim, recognizing what she is doing as a classic accountant's trick to hide expenses. You track down the routing numbers and find she is using a private bank account. If she had used a fake business her little trick might have worked.

As you pile the folders up in your arms to take them to Mr. Perry you realize it might be too late. it's almost seven. You were so intensely working you lost track of time. Miraculously you see Mr. Perry is still in his office. He's smoking a cigar and talking on the phone. When he sees you he frowns and waves you in. He finishes up his call and looks at you across the desk.

"You're late, Rebecca. I should fire you for that, but I'll give you one chance. If you made the numbers work then it will just be a warning."

"They still didn't add up," you say and drop the final hard copy on his desk.

Haley's deception is circled in red marker on top of the pile. "I'm afraid they will never add up, Mr. Perry. One of your junior accountants, Haley, was embezzling."

He drops the cigar into his lap and curses.

"It can't be," he says as he brushes the ashes from his pants. "You had better have proof."

You do. You meticulously explain it to him, showing him all of the routing numbers, the account, everything. There's one final piece of the puzzle that only Mr. Perry can provide. The name on the private account was Martin Tate. You assumed it was a fake name.

"It's her boyfriend," he says. "I remember asking if she was married when she wrote it down as her emergency contact when we hired her."

Why would Perry ask her if she was...oh, that's right, he was probably fucking Haley.

"You can go home, Rebecca." He says. "I'll deal with this on Monday. Oh, and there will be a bonus in it for you. Half of whatever we recover from Haley's accounts."

Feeling pretty good about your day - you saved your job and you got to have some really naughty fun in the office - you head home. You wonder if Brad is waiting for you. Maybe you can get a pizza delivered from that place he likes.

You head into the house through the back door so you can check the herbs you have growing in the garden. Nothing quite ready to cut yet. Something smells really good. The house is dark, but you can hear music playing from the living room. It sounds really cheesy. Do you even own any of this sort of music?

"Hey, baby," Brad greets you in the living room. He has set up the table you bring out for dinner parties and draped a white tablecloth over it. There are two place settings and your favorite chicken dinner with those little Asian string beans you said you liked. The room is lit by the candles glowing on the table's centerpiece.

"I cooked your favorite," Brad says. "Are you hungry?"

You answer by kissing him and pushing him past the table and back onto the couch. Yes, you answer with your hands on his body, you are very hungry. So hungry that you need a snack before dinner.

YOU'VE MANAGED TO KEEP YOUR JOB AND SAVE YOUR MARRIAGE, NOT TO MENTION YOU HAD A LITTLE FUN IN THE PROCESS. ONLY TIME WILL TELL IF BRAD HAS CHANGED.