“I need to talk to you.” There was only so much I could leave in a voice mail, and this couldn’t be left in a text.
Fifteen minutes, no response.
“Carlynn, please. I need to talk to you.”
Twelve minutes, no response.
“Damn it, Carlynn. This isn’t about the stupid report. Call me.”
It took minutes to check out of the room I’d only flung my bag inside the door. Still no answer from Carlynn.
I was desperate.
Figuring I could drop everything if she actually called me back, I paid my way to the front of the taxi queue and ignored the cost of the only seat flying back to Sydney within the hour.
“Carlynn, would you please just call me.”
With the offer of double the fare as his tip, I got to the domestic terminal in record time. I’d cut it fine, but still desperate to talk to her before boarding.
“GG—Basilio knows you’re in Sydney.”
Five minutes, still no response. The longer she took to call me back, the worse my imagination. What if she hated me more than she feared the whole Melbourne thing?
“Please talk to me. At least let me know you’re okay.”
I never expected tonight to end up back in Sydney.
I would have never said her name, never intentionally put her at risk.
Things that could have been avoided, if Carlynn had trusted me with the truth. Yeah, I understood—her ex-husband was a piece of work. Whether it was fear or pride, or just not wanting to air her past in public, I got it.
But we were an us. Unless she’d changed her mind.
I could help, I wanted to help. All she had to do was answer the bloody phone.
Karma was on my side, for once.
No traffic between Mascot and the address that Mason’s Chloe had texted me.
At one point, I’d wondered why Carlynn never invited me to her place, thinking that maybe my apartment was closer to the office and easier. Now, I knew differently. Her apartment block might have been modern, forty years ago. Based on her consultancy rates, she should be living in luxury. Then again, every dollar earned was probably trying to set herself up in a new life that had nothing to do with her past.
Buzzzzz. Buzzzzzz.
I waited for ten, maybe fifteen seconds and tried again.
Buzzzzz. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Hours of watching her play cards, I knew how patient—or stubborn GG could be.
I could be worse. Years of playing boardroom politics with Mason and Darius could finally come in handy. I’d keep buzzing until she either let me in, or the police came to physically remove me. As if I cared. It wouldn’t be the first night I spent in jail over a girl—and GG’s safety was worth it.
Strange how she’d gone back to being the leather clad GG in my mind. Visions of her gatecrashing my return home ran vividly through my imagination. Could I have done anything differently?
Chosen the slopes she could ski instead of showing off for the snow bunny instructor. Given her a chance to explain about the reports. Stopped my pride getting in the way of—
“Go away.” Carlynn’s voice floated through the intercom. Except, it didn’t sound like Carlynn.
“Let me in.”
“No.”
“Please, Carlynn, let me in I need to talk to you.”
“I already got their message.”
Fuck, how did Basilio work that fast.
“Let me help.”
“No.”
At least she was talking through the intercom although I felt like a bloody fool. Yelling at her for the whole world to hear, instead of holding her until she believed we could work together and make things right. “Let’s find a game, I’ll help stake you and you can win it in a night.”
“No—this isn’t your problem.”
“But it’s my fault they found you—and I’m so sorry.”
This wasn’t the time to remind her a word or warning about Melbourne could have prevented me coming face to face with her ex. His name, or her real one. Either would have worked.
Buzzzzz.
“What!”
“Let me in, please.”
“Fuck off. Clearly and succinctly—fuck off.”
No matter how long I kept buzzing, she wouldn’t answer.
Jarryd: Flying back with a house guest—yours. J
Scott: WTF?
Jarryd: Have breakfast waiting.
What the hell was Jarryd up to?
My world had been turned upside down and Jarryd was bringing a house guest?
“Would you please just talk to me?”
Two hours after arriving, I left a final voice mail for Carlynn before giving her the space she’d demanded.
House guest and breakfast?
Luckily, a twenty-four-hour bakery was open, and the buttery smell of freshly baked croissants filled my apartment within minutes of throwing my bag in the door.
Long-life milk in the cupboard would do for my unexpected guests, and the spare room was always ready—although I couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than Layla had used it.
The first flight would arrive a little after seven, giving me four hours sleep. As if I could.
Carlynn. GG. Carlynn Rush who used to be Carlynn Hargraves.
Was it creepy the only way I got to sleep was by clutching her torn thong that I’d never been able to throw out?
Buzz.
“Come on up.” One coffee down, the second waiting for the beans to finish grinding. I didn’t bother looking for Jarryd’s plus one—unless it was Basilio Calibri ready to forgive the debt, how could it matter?
“Fuck!”
No other words and definitely no words of welcome for the bastard who’d set up this cluster-fuck of a situation.
“If it’s any consolation, I don’t want to be here either.” Matt scowled as Jarryd pushed him inside. “Your mate here can be very persuasive.”
“She won’t even talk to me.” I didn’t have to explain who. “I tried to warn her but apparently they’ve already sent her a message.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect them to find her before I could win my way back.”
“Famous last words.”
“Scott, Matt didn’t need to come here, but he wants to do his part to make things right.”
“Have you got the cash?”
Standing in the foyer, I ignored my friend and took in the sunken eyes and pallor of Matt Hargraves. What the hell had GG or Carlynn seen in him? Yes, he had the blonde hair and could have been good looking back in the day—but right now he wasn’t even a shadow of a pathetic loser.
“Not even close, but Jarryd thought you’d have some ideas.”
“You son of a bitch.” The plasterboard shattered under my fist. This man never deserved Carlynn, he hadn’t even listened. “They have already sent her a message! You’re a fuck up. You’re a screw up and she’s not even fucking talking to me!”
“She won’t talk to me either.”
Didn’t he hear—they’d sent her a message!
“I don’t bloody well care whether she’s talking to you, or not.”
“I still love her.”
“Well, stand in fucking line because I do, too.”
Shit.
Probably should have told the lady herself, before shouting it at her ex. Then again, until this moment, it had only been a thought. A possibility that had become a probability.
I meant it.
If her only secret was an ex-husband with a gambling habit, all we needed to do was sort out the debt and look forward to the rest of our lives.
If we lived long enough.
I’d already linked my future to hers. In all ways.
Buying time, I led my guests through to the kitchen. Not bothering to ask how they took their coffees. The machine delivered black and they could pour or froth their own bloody milk.
“What are you going to do about it?”
The debt was Matt’s and the wedding ring
had only been recently vacated. I needed to know where the man stood. As much as it killed me, once upon a time, Carlynn loved the man enough to marry him.
“I love her, but we were poison together. The smartest hand she ever played was walking away from our marriage.” Matt sunk into my couch, ignoring the warmed croissants and coffee. “I mean, in the end all we would do was turn up to games, play, fight and fuck. Nothing about us was healthy.”
“So, what the hell are you doing here? Looking for her address so you can rub it in?”
“No, but Jarryd thought you could help.”
“She doesn’t want my help.”
“Well, I love her enough to ask for it.” This version of Matt was broken, shattered. Humble. “I don’t like you, and you have every reason to hate me, but I’m asking. Help me figure out how to fix this.”
“How did you get in such a hole?”
“One hand at a time,” Matt sighed with a nonchalant shrug. “When Carlina left me, I didn’t care about anything. I turned up to games and just played without thinking or caring.”
“Like someone else I once knew.” Jarryd threw me a pointed look. Not that I needed reminding. My once fine bank balance still hadn’t quite recovered, as Mason had taken great pains to remind me. Asset rich, but liquid cash poor.
“I was still holding onto hope that she would remember the good times and come back—so when they asked how I was gonna cover the first night—I said her name.”
“They believed you?”
“Yep.”
“Just like that?”
“We’d fought before. They didn’t know she’d left me or the state.”
“You stupid son-of-a-bitch.”
“That seems to be the general consensus. Where is she?”
“Working hard and successfully not talking to me.”
“How does she feel about you?”
Matt may have asked the question, but there was no way he wanted the answer. Carlynn had come here, taken me to New Zealand. That meant something more than a casual fling. Still, using the love word in front of the guy was cruel enough.
“You don’t want to know.”
“She’s worth it but as much as she wants to fight the dark indulgences, Carlina loves the lifestyle. She can’t resist the glitter, the glamor and the power.”
“That sounds like the woman I love.”
“Does she love you back?”
“I don’t think we ever stood a chance. I knew she was hiding something from me—and now it appears it was you!”
This entire screwed up situation could have been avoided. My frustration was as much for me as it was for Matt. If only she’d let me convince her that pasts didn’t matter—only our future.
“All I have is a apartment that won’t sell quickly enough to clear the debts.”
“What sort of unit?”
“My parents gave me a graduation gift—on the Melbourne docks. A two-bedroom apartment in the right building in the right location. I lived there before Carlina and I got married.”
Jarryd and I exchanged looks while Matt fumbled with his phone, pulling up the listing.
Not bad. Good location, reasonably marketable property. It would rent well.
“Do you owe any money on it?”
“Not a chance—it’s mine to sell but not to mortgage—otherwise I’d have—”
“Borrowed and lost even more?” It was impossible to have respect for the man who seemed in delusional denial when came to gambling.
“It’s all I have but there isn’t enough time to sell it.”
Twelve months ago, I could have transferred the asking price by lunchtime.
Six months ago, I might have been able to top up my liquid cash with a couple of short-term loans.
I had one avenue. One man who had more cash than questions and wanted something I had. Me.
“Give me a sec.” I left Matt and Jarryd to their food and coffee while I downloaded a copy of my employment contract. Read and reread. Made phone calls, and then made more until I got the answer I wanted.
Complete and utter madness—but what if it worked?
“What sort of mess have you gotten into now?” Mason didn’t bother with introductions. I’d been reworking a spreadsheet when Mason’s name flashed on my phone.
Utterly predictable.
“They called you?” No need to ask why my boss suddenly started to care.
“Of course, they did. What the hell is going on?”
“Look at the bright side. Drawing down on my share component of future dividends means that you hold my balls in a vice until I pay it back.”
“Yet another fucking question you refuse to answer. What the hell is going on?”
“Are you going to block it?”
“That depends, are you ever going to start answering my questions?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“The way I see it, I know you racked up a heap of gambling losses over the last year, probably more than your annual salary at Softli. Now you want to drawdown half a million dollars from future dividends. What am I supposed to think? You’re my chief financial officer—and I have to be able to trust you with corporate funds.”
“You can.”
“Prove it.”
“I can’t, at least not yet. I need the cash to buy a property. If it makes you feel any better and stops the questions, I’ll hand you a personal mortgage over it.”
“Not Softli?”
“My Softli contract is clear. I can borrow against future dividends. I don’t need to give a reason; I only need to ask the question and sign papers. You’re the one with the issue so let me drawdown the funds, buy the property and hand the mortgage over to you.”
“I’ll think about it and talk to my lawyers.”
“Mason, I don’t have time. I can’t explain but I need to do this today.”
“I don’t know—”
I held firm. Usually Mason jumped at a decision but if pressed, he always deferred.
What sort of message had they sent?
Visions of Carlynn being beaten, or worse sent my brain and heart into overdrive. I couldn’t overreact. She’d answered the buzzer—and sounded pissed off, not hurt.
“It has to be this one property and today?”
“You get double insurance—triple even. You keep me at Softli with an incentive to decrease the debt book to increase dividends, and if I screw it up you get the property that was important enough to do the deal.”
“Are you ever going to give me a straight answer?”
“Not my story to tell.”
“I hope she’s worth it and she knows what you’ll do for her.”
“Yes, to the first and doubtful to the second.”
I didn’t notice the tightness in my chest, until it was gone.
“Gentlemen, I come bearing gifts.”
Jarryd and Matt were still sitting where I’d left them over an hour ago when I slid the paperwork across the table. “Sign the dotted line and you’ll be minus one apartment and plus half a million dollars.”
“What? How?”
“You said you want to help out Carlynn, then there are some conditions. First, you are not leaving here until Basilio confirms that your payment has gone through and he has called off his goons.”
“But these things take time.”
“You don’t have time and I’m out of patience. Sign the fucking forms, take the money, transfer the money and I don’t ever want to hear you’ve been near a table again.”
To his credit, Matt didn’t argue or plead for more money. “You realize that I’m now homeless.”
“Do I look like I give a shit?”
“Let me make a phone call to Basilio.”
Jarryd and I sat in silence while Matt’s raised voice carried from my office back to the living areas. My fingers twitched over the phone keys. Pulling up Carlynn’s contact, and then closing the screen. Pulling up our last messages, closing the screen.
I desperately wanted to be the one to reassure her, tell her that it was over. But she’d made it clear last night. My help wasn’t wanted.
If she knew what I’d done, she might undo it.
If she knew what I’d done, she might act out of guilt. I wanted her to love me because she loved me, not because I’d been crazy enough to bail out her ex-husband.
Saved her life.
“Dark indulgences,” Jarryd’s words came out of nowhere.
“Say what?”
“Matt said that GG couldn’t resist a reckless gambler or dark indulgences—kind of like you.”
“Then it’s probably best that we aren’t together anymore.”
“What does that mean for my games? I’ve already blacklisted one player out of respect for you.”
“I won’t ask you to do that, even though it’ll hurt like hell to see her, especially when she decides to move on with someone else.”
“Are you going to tell her about today?”
“Nah, what’s the point? What if she decides to get back together out of guilt or some sense of gratitude? I don’t want that, and she deserves better. This way, I get an investment property—”
“That you didn’t want.”
“Still, I can sell it later or use it as a new base if I move down south.”
“You seriously thinking about leaving Softli?”
“Absolutely. As soon as the quarterly dividends comes through, my debt will be clear and I’m thinking it’s time for me to move on.”
“You’ll leave town to get away from a woman?”
“Only if staying in town means having to watch her meet and fall in love with someone else.”
“She might talk to me—” Jarryd looked uncomfortable even as he made the offer.
“Nah, thanks but it won’t make a difference. I should have just come out with it when I thought she was keeping something from me. Instead, I treated her like shit.”
“All done!”
Matt burst through the corridor as if he’d just been given a second chance at life. He had. Relief and gratitude were obvious, but I doubted he’d learned the lesson. Addiction was a bitch and had him firmly in her grasp. Still, not my problem and no longer Carlynn’s.
“You’ll be getting an email confirming that my debt has been discharged and so will Carlina.”
Reckless Gamble: a billionaire high stakes suspense romance (City Sinners Book 4) Page 20