The October expenses column in the heavy leather business ledger was off by forty-five thousand dollars.

I ran my fingernail down the beige ledger page three times before I lifted my head to look across the desk.

Julian stood by the heavy oak filing cabinet in his navy blue silk necktie, twisting the smooth fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

He was thirty-six years old, but whenever he looked at financial paperwork he held his chin up like a man trying to see over a tall wooden fence.

“What’s this vendor equipment line item on the twentieth?” I asked, holding the red pencil over the margin.

“Heavy machinery rental for the Oak Street job site,” Julian said, his eyes scanning the top drawer of the cabinet instead of looking at me.

“The Oak Street job site wrapped up in August,” I said.

“And forty-five thousand dollars would buy three commercial backhoes outright.”

Julian straightened his navy blue necktie and took two slow steps toward my desk.

He laid his palms flat on the blotter and leaned forward until the shadow of his broad shoulders fell across my ledger sheet.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with company asset management, Audrey,” he said.

His voice was flat and hard, the same measured tone he used whenever a framing subcontractor asked for an advance on weekly payroll.

“I keep the company books because you asked me to when the business expanded three years ago,” I said.

I touched the plain metal band of my wedding ring with my left thumb, turning it slowly around my knuckle.

“The quarterly state tax filing is due in six weeks.”

“Then do the household records and leave the commercial accounts to me,” Julian said.

“You’ve got enough on your plate with the baby coming in January.”

I laid my right hand protectively over the warm curve of my belly and felt a faint stir under my fingers.