by Laura Carter
“The worst thing wasn’t what Nick said, Gregory, it was that I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know how to react. I couldn’t control my reaction because you kept me in the dark. Again.”
“I know. I get it.” He exhales heavily. “Scarlett, this is my life. I deal with dark and twisted and I deal with it in my way. Let me finish. I’ve never had anyone living this close to me, who wants to know things about me. I’ve also never felt the need to protect anyone as insanely as I do you.” He casts an eye to Amy who, less than inconspicuously, leaves us. “I’ve told you before, you are everything to me and I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Sometimes that might mean keeping things from you, but you have to trust that everything I do is in your best interests. Even if I get it wrong sometimes, or you think I do.” He smiles fleetingly. “I’m always thinking of you.”
“I know that.” And I do. “But I want us to be a team. Work together. Face challenges together, whatever they may be. You’re not alone anymore, Gregory.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and raises my palm to his lips. “Aurora.”
* * *
“Wait.” He pulls me back as I maneuver somewhat awkwardly out of the Mercedes in my black pencil skirt. I turn to face him. “I don’t want you to find out and think I’ve been keeping things from you.”
He glances at Jackson in the rearview mirror then back to me. A look that makes me lift my legs back into the car and pull the door closed.
“I went to see Jack.”
My old boss Jack? The man Gregory forced to confess to sexual assault? That Jack? My skin crawls until the tingling grows to a shiver and my shoulders shudder. I should consider myself lucky. All those late nights in the office, the crass jibes, the way he used to look at me like I was his next meal. But Jack never actually touched me. Thanks to Gregory, I never became one of the women he abused.
“When?” I don’t need to ask why, I know why. He went to see him to determine whether Jack is behind the trouble with Black Diamonds.
“Wednesday.”
I nod. “And?”
“It’s not him, Scarlett, I’m certain of it.”
I nod again, unsure how I feel about that. “Thank you for telling me.” I lean across the backseat and press my mouth to his. “It means a lot.”
He strokes my hair behind my ear and pushes the curled ends back across my shoulder. “Don’t overthink, baby, enjoy your last day at the firm. I can’t wait until I get to see you all day, every day.”
“I’ll be working,” I say with a smile I can’t help because I’m really looking forward to working next door to him, too.
“Your boss might give you extended breaks,” he says with a suggestive half smile and the kinky sparkle in his eye throws my mind back to images of us fucking over his desk.
“I don’t know,” I say, pecking his cheek and making my move out of the car. I bend and lean back into the open door. “I’ve heard he’s a bit of an arse.” I blow him a kiss, leaving him laughing as the door closes.
* * *
It wasn’t Jack.
I need to start making my final handover notes and packing up the contents of my desk but before I do, I take out the ring binder labelled Constant Sources (GJR): Black Diamonds.
“Hey you.” Amanda bounds into my office looking immaculate in a charcoal A-line skirt and an electric-blue blouse, her red hair swept back in a loose chignon. “Leaving lunch and embarrassing goodbye shenanigans at one.”
“Oh, Amanda, please don’t go over the top, I’d rather slope off quietly.”
“And that’s why you have a fantabulous best friend to make sure you don’t.”
She spins and struts out of the office with one hand on her hip. “I’ll collect you at twelve fifty-five. Be ready.”
When she leaves I open the file and work back through the information I have on the Black Diamonds IP registrations. Nothing. I scour my documents and notes on the subsidiary companies that filed the registrations. Local counsel said there was nothing suspect about those companies nor the French parent company.
I put on my headset and dial each lawyer in turn, asking them to urgently send through the details of the three companies, names of directors, shareholders, constitutional documents.
Ten minutes later, I’m laying out the documents on my desk and I see one constant.
Francesco Benedetti, Director.
I can hear Adriana’s whiney voice chastising her husband. “Oh, Francesco, you’re so baaaaad.” The man I know as Francis is... Francesco Benedetti?
I pull up Google on my computer screen and type Francesco Benedetti, pausing before I hit enter. A link to Carter’s Private Equity House is the first result. I remember the name.
My heart beats faster in my chest as I click the link to the company’s website. The homepage is full of spiel about the PE house’s investments. Latest News. Corporate Social Responsibility. Scanning the tabs at the top of the screen, my fingers shaking, I click Team.
There he is. A black and white image with a bio sits under the heading Francesco Benedetti. Francis.
Francis is registering Black Diamonds?
I lean back in my chair and turn my cardboard latte cup on my desk, staring at his face. Of course! I pick up my desk phone and dial.
“Gregory Ryans.”
“It’s Nick Henshaw.” His name tastes vile as it leaves my mouth.
“Scarlett?”
“Francis, Adriana’s Francis, is Francesco Benedetti.” I try to slow my pace and keep it together as I explain.
“Yes, one and the same.”
“Last night, when Nick Henshaw told me he’d gone into business with Francis, he said it like a threat.”
“We’ve been over this.”
“This morning I had local counsel send the registration documents of the companies behind the Black Diamonds registrations, Gregory, and there’s one constant. Francis, Francesco, is a director of them all.”
“Ja, so what does that mean?” His South African twang rolls off his tongue like he’s relaxed but I know I have his attention.
“Why would Francis try to register Black Diamonds? He doesn’t have a vendetta against you, you said so. His new business partner on the other hand... Nick isn’t listed as a director but I just know, Gregory, from last night, from Nick’s knowledge of the gaming industry, it has to be him. I don’t know what their financial arrangement is but I’m certain Francesco Benedetti and Nick Henshaw are in this together. They’re trying to steal Black Diamonds.”
He’s silent for a second. “That’s not Francis’s way. He’s out for money but he’s not vindictive. He’s not into those kinds of battles. His reputation as an investor would be on the line and like you say, he doesn’t have an issue with me.”
“So maybe he doesn’t know? He could think he’s investing in gaming software. Legitimate. Above board. He doesn’t need to know Nick’s motivation. Black Diamonds has only been on the market for a matter of weeks, it’s feasible that Nick could own the game and be registering the IP as any new owner would. That could be the story he’s told Francis at least.”
Gregory is quiet again, to the point that I start to wonder if he’s still on the line. Eventually, he snarls, “Fucking bastard.”
* * *
“Ready lady? The only answer to that question is yes, by the way.” Amanda stands, coat on, handbag over her wrist, at the door to my office.
“In that case, yes.”
“You seem distracted,” she says as we walk towards the dim sum restaurant.
“Sorry. I am but I won’t be. I’m really looking forward to lunch. Thanks for organising.”
“You’re also a terrible liar.”
I know that. “It’s a failing I was born with.”
“Is everythin
g okay? Are you and Gregory okay?”
“Oh, gosh, yes, fine. You remember the game Gregory acquired before St. Lucia, and the intellectual property issues?”
“Right, yep. That’s still going on?”
I pull open the heavy glass door to the restaurant. “After you. Yes, it’s still going on. Bit of a mess really.”
“That’s all? You’re sure?”
I laugh internally at Amanda’s simplistic view of everything work related. “Yes, that’s all.”
There are already ten others from my office seated at benches. We eat far too many dumplings on a long wooden table then I’m presented with spa vouchers for two as a leaving gift. From the look on Amanda’s face, I know the identity of my intended guest.
My Blackberry vibrates for the second time in ten minutes and I’m desperate to answer but Amanda has gone to a lot of trouble, so instead, I watch Gregory’s name light up the screen before a text comes through.
CAN YOU COME HERE?
After saying my goodbyes and giving my final handover notes for Mr. Ghurair’s transaction to Amanda, I leave. Jackson comes to my office and carries my box to the Mercedes as I take in the space one last time.
The end of an era. So much has happened in five months and it all started with one pitch. One boardroom. One glance. I roll my engagement ring between my fingers and close the door on old Scarlett Heath. Daughter. Trainee. Associate. Senior Associate. Legal Director.
By the time I reach the lift, I realise a new door has opened, a new chapter has begun, and a new, stronger version of Scarlett Heath has been born.
* * *
Jackson carries my box, together with my wool coat and dripping wet dome umbrella, to my new office whilst I head in search of Gregory.
The staff look sheepish at their desks outside his office. As I approach the frosted glass door, Stuart walks out looking like he’s just experienced unhappy CEO Ryans.
“Hi Stuart.”
He smiles, those familiar eyes softening. “Hi Scarlett.” His voice betrays his disheartened mood and gives me a small insight into what’s waiting behind the door.
Gregory is pacing the length of the wall of windows, the tails of his navy blazer pushed back by his hands in his pockets, his tie looser than usual at his neck, his hair out of place from where he’s dragged his fingers through it. Even the air in the room is tense.
“Close the door,” he snaps.
I do so, taking steps into the middle of the office.
“You were right,” he says, pausing but facing out to the city. “It’s Nick Fucking Henshaw.” I nod but don’t speak. “Stuart swears he has nothing to do with it. Says he’s never heard of Nick or Francis.”
“Do we believe him?”
“He swore on his mother’s life. That’s not something a man does lightly.”
I venture forward now, taking a seat in the chair opposite Gregory’s desk. The black leather is still warm. No doubt Stuart got a thorough dressing down. Most likely a threat on his life if he so much as thinks about crossing Gregory.
Gregory laughs now, sardonically, and strokes his forefinger and thumb along his jawline, his other hand still resting on his hip. “He wants a payout.”
I had suspected as much but I let him speak.
“Three fucking million. Three. Fucking. Million. It’s nothing to do with the fucking game.”
“He wants money because you forced him to resign.”
“Fucking prick.”
“I had a feeling that would be the case once I realised it was him. The way he spoke at the gala, he—”
“Oh, well, fucking marvelous, Scarlett. When the fuck were you going to share that feeling with me?”
I stand abruptly from my chair.
“Attitude check, Gregory. Right now! Otherwise you can stare at my back as I’m walking out of your fucking office and leaving you in the shit.”
He turns from the window and opens his mouth to protest. He doesn’t apologise but he does move to sit into his desk chair opposite me, putting us on the same level when I sit, too.
“I’ve been thinking about it all morning,” I say calmly.
“I’m all ears.” His tone is as soft as I suspect it’s going to get.
“Stuart created the game. If we believe he isn’t involved, he still has certain unregistered intellectual property rights.”
“Does that help us?”
“Absolutely, as long as we can prove it. If Nick is demanding money, it tells me he doesn’t really want Black Diamonds. If he wanted to set up alone and put a new game on the market, he would, he has the knowledge to do it. He’s trying to threaten you that he can use whatever version of Black Diamonds he has to eat into your Jail Run profits. He’ll know that’s why you wanted Black Diamonds.”
“I think I’m following.” Given the speed the words are leaving my mouth, that’s nothing short of a miracle. “He thinks the threat of him having the game on the market is worth three million pounds to me.”
“Right. So let’s call his bluff. Let’s make it so he doesn’t have the threat of taking his Black Diamonds to market. Then he has nothing on you,” I continue.
Gregory’s eyes widen and he sits a little straighter in his chair. “How do we do that?”
“We fight him. In China, the US, Europe. We make a case against his registration of the game. We claim ownership. It’s not a cheap plan. It will cost you.”
“But it’ll be a damn sight cheaper than three million pounds.”
“Precisely.”
He leans back in his chair, his eyes distant as he processes the idea, his fingertips forming a steeple that rests against his chin. “And whilst you’re working on that, I’ll take pleasure in letting Francis know exactly who he’s getting involved with.”
“He’ll pull the funding?”
“I’m almost certain of it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
He’s propped up on one arm, his dark hair messed from sleep, a light dusting of stubble coating his chin. The white cotton sheet is wrapped around his waist and between his legs. He’s otherwise on display for my own personal viewing.
“This is a nice way to wake up.” My eyes run shamelessly over the perfect sculpture of man, falling on his eager crotch, a sight that heats the blood that travels to the tips of my breasts and between my legs.
“You know what I was thinking? I was thinking I’ve never met anyone like you.” His fingers trace the side of my body, moving away the sheet so his hand comes to rest on the small of my back. My body reacts, bending closer to his heat.
“I hope that’s a good thing.” The sound of my voice betrays my want.
“Mostly,” he says, with that half smile I adore. “No one else challenges me the way you do and no one else dares to tell me to check my attitude.”
“What can I say, sometimes you need an attitude check, Mr. Ryans.”
“As do you, Miss Heath, and you’re going to get it.” I moan greedily as he pulls my body against his, letting me feel his intention against my navel. His hand slides to the sphere of my arse, pulling my thigh across his and coming to rest in the crease between my thigh and calf. “You’re right when you say we work better as a team. We do, don’t we?”
I assume, on this occasion, he’s referring to the fact Francis wants out of his arrangement with Nick Henshaw and local counsel are already on the case of challenging Nick’s registration of Black Diamonds in the UK and Europe. All of which kills Nick’s chances of getting three million pounds out of GJR.
“If I said it, it must be true.” I’m feeling particularly cheeky and ready to play this morning, something that pulls his lips to a smirk, but his eyes are serious.
“I’ve never had that. This. I’ve never been part of a team. I’m always the man in co
ntrol and with you...you throw me off balance. Some days I wonder if I’ve dreamt you. As if it’s taken me thirty years to realise what I need and you’re a figment of my imagination. You’re beautiful. Smart and strong. You’re so perfect I’m terrified of waking up and losing you.”
I hold my hand to his cheek and wait for him to open his eyes. “I feel the same and I’m not going anywhere, Gregory. You’ve changed me in so many ways. You’re the anchor in my new world.”
“Our new world.”
He drops his mouth to mine and rolls us so my back is on the mattress, my thighs locked around his hips, my body rising to make contact with his, desire turning to a wet, aching need between my legs.
He lowers himself, his weight resting against my pelvis, his forearms either side of my head, his fingers gently stroking my hair. “I love you so much.”
I brush his hair back from his brow and lock my fingers behind his neck. “I love you, too.”
He leans down, his tongue dipping into my mouth and teasing mine, the soft skin of his lips grazing my own. I drown in his touch, in his love, in him.
* * *
“Sorry to interrupt but can I take a car?” I make my way into the lounge in my skinny jeans and oversized jumper, eating a bagel on the move so that I’m not late for picking up Sandy.
Gregory and Jackson look up from the photographs and documents they’re studying on the coffee table. I don’t need to look to know that Nick Henshaw will be the star of that storyboard. They’re blindly trying to plot their next move, not knowing how Nick will react to the fact his plan imploded. This fight has only just begun. The one saving grace is that Gregory hasn’t opted for his usual first port of call and had Jackson bring in extra security. That’s something I can take comfort from. He thinks this will be a white-collar war rather than one that requires him to step into the ring.
The men have a silent conversation before Jackson stands and declares, “I’ll take you.”
I hold my hand up whilst I swallow. “No, thanks, Jackson, I’m good to drive.” I glare at Gregory. “I know you put me on the insurance, I saw the invoice on your desk. And before you dare to make a remark about my driving capabilities, let me remind you that you’ve never actually been a passenger in a car with me.”