The P.U.R.E. by Claire Gillian Page A

in her office while she fled to the ladies’ room. On her desk was a forecast of how the IPO funds were to be used. Below that was a manila folder. I grabbed the forecast and folder, ran and made copies of them before Jayna returned.” I paused to take a bite and a sip.
    “And?”
    “One of the uses of the IPO funds is to redeem five thousand preferred shares at eight hundred percent of face value. Inside the folder, I found documents pertaining to the owner of the preferred shares—Dalrymple Beauty Consultants and its parent company, Elizabethan Investments. Do either of those names ring a bell?”
    “No. Never heard of them,” he said with a shake of his head.
    “Guess who’s the sole owner of Elizabethan Investments?”
    “Kenneth Petrovich?”
    “No. Guess again.”
    He rolled his eyes and said blandly, “Leslie Turner.”
    I pouted. “Ugh, how’d you guess?”
    “I was right? Leslie Turner controls five thousand shares of Aphrodite through two holding companies?”
    “Yes. She originally owned half of the shares until Libby sold her the other half.”
    He gasped. “That means Bob has a financial interest in Aphrodite. Uh-oh.”
    “Can you say big time ethics violation?”
    “Why would he agree to do the audit and keep his wife’s interest a secret? They both stand to benefit to the tune of eight hundred percent of the face value of the stock. Do you know how much money we’re talking?”
    “Eight hundred thousand dollars,” I told him.
    “What? Wow! That much? Really?”
    I nodded. “Yes!”
    Jon’s eyes stayed motionless, his gaze fixed somewhere around my mouth. I was hungrier than I had originally thought and must have been wolfing down my food. I put down the sandwich mid-bite to use my napkin.
    I’ll bet Thalia never ate like a pig in front of him.
    No doubt my voracious appetite or the avocado mess I discovered when I wiped off my face appalled him.
    Precious, Gayle. Just precious.
    “A partnership interest in a firm like Anderson-Blakely is worth more than eight hundred thousand dollars.” Jon continued to fixate on my face as if in a trance.
    “He obviously thought he’d never be caught.” I forced myself to let the sandwich lie untouched for a few beats.
    “Or he didn’t know Leslie owned the shares. You’re not eating anymore. You can’t be done.”
    “I can tell your mother is Italian.”
    He laughed. “Yeah, my mother is definitely a member of the ‘mange, mange!’ club.”
    “I need to let my food settle a bit. Eating too fast is what happens when you have three very large older brothers. You learn to inhale your food or you starve.” I giggled in spite of myself.
    “How much older and larger are your brothers?”
    “Not much older, but much, much larger. Ian, Henry, and my twin, Gordon, all played football, baseball and basketball and are meaner than pit bulls on meth. As the only girl, and the youngest, I had to be sneaky and quick to survive the Lindley brothers.”
    “Traits that benefit you to this day, I’ve noticed. Are they overly protective of you since you’re so tiny?”
    I grimaced at his description of me. “I’m not tiny. Sometimes they’re overprotective. Other times they couldn’t give a rip. None of them live in Dallas, thank goodness.”
    “Petite, then. Where do they live?”
    “Ian’s in Houston with NASA. He’s a rocket scientist, literally. Henry lives in Los Alamos, New Mexico, and works at the labs. Gordon is at Harvard law. Who knows where he’ll end up—probably New York.”
    “Smart bunch you Lindleys are. Now, mange, mange, bellissima. Eat up so we can go get yogurt.” He pressed his palms together as if in prayer and bobbed them up and down in a stereotypical Italian gesture.
    “I have just the right amount of room left for yogurt right now. Maybe if I ate slowly all the time, I could shed a few extra pounds.” I patted my distended belly.
    He rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to lose any weight, Gayle. I wish