My father frowned.
“What is he talking about?”
I folded my hands on the table.
“Yes, Dad.
I worked at the Elm Street Diner.”
I looked toward Ryan.
“And I did bookkeeping for a small repair shop.”
Natalie smirked.
“Exactly.”
“But those were only my daytime jobs.”
Her smirk disappeared.
“For years, I worked remotely at night.”
Three years earlier, I had realized that waiting tables would never buy the independence I wanted.
So I studied accounting, financial modeling, statistics, and coding whenever I had time. Eventually, I created a freelance identity.
C.B.
Analytics.
I began conducting risk analysis for small investment firms.
Then I moved on to larger ones.
I had a talent for noticing patterns others overlooked.
Hidden debt.
Shell corporations.
Unusual transfers.
Corporate structures designed to conceal liabilities.
Two years earlier, Mercer Holdings was preparing to acquire Halston Group in a billion-dollar transaction.
Everyone believed the deal was secure.
It wasn’t.
“I was working for an outside auditing firm,” I explained.
“I found a clause buried beneath several subsidiary agreements. If Mercer Holdings completed the acquisition, Halston’s debt structure would have triggered defaults across several of Julian’s commercial loans.”
My father stared at me.
Julian nodded.
“My lawyers missed it.
My board missed it.
Claire didn’t.”
“I wrote a seventy-page report and sent it directly to him.”
Julian smiled faintly.
“I canceled the acquisition the next morning.”
Then he looked at me.
“It took me months to figure out who C.B.
Analytics actually was.”
Natalie rolled her eyes.
“So you’re a consultant.
Congratulations.”
I almost laughed.
“You still don’t understand.”
Julian pushed the acquisition contract toward my father.
