Risk: Part 1 (The Vault)

by Nina Levine

  She returns my glare. “Don’t snap at me. I’m just the messenger. And besides, we don’t have time for this. I need you to come work your magic.”

  My eyes bulge. “Do I look like I’m in any state to go anywhere with you?” It’s a good thing Poppy and I are as close as sisters, otherwise our relationship would disintegrate fairly quickly with the way we snap and snarl at each other sometimes.

  “I don’t care what state you’re in! My shares have just crashed, and I need you to come and help me fix it!”

  Oh. God.

  Poppy has millions tied up in shares. I usually advise her on it, but about six months ago, Dougall insisted on her hiring his friend to take over her portfolio. Something about me not being qualified enough for him. Whatever. I told her to keep the peace and let the dude take over while I watched from the sidelines. About a month ago, he insisted she dump a tonne of cash into a company I didn’t think she should, but Dougall stepped in and told her again to stop listening to me. I get it, she was in between a rock and a hard place, but now it seems that maybe the advice was bad.

  “Duttons?” I ask to clarify what I am already guessing.

  She nods. “Yes. I should never have listened to Tom.”

  Owen cuts in at this point. He’s been silently watching our conversation up until now. “Tom Dooley recommended you buy Dutton shares?”

  Poppy looks at him. “Yes. Do you know Tom? I thought he ran in different circles to you.”

  “I know of him. I’ve heard that his deals have been going bad.”

  Poppy’s shoulders slump as she glances back at me. “Bloody Dougall. I should never have let him convince me.”

  My mind is already swinging into action. “Okay, there’s gotta be a way up to my room without anyone seeing my ass. You can walk behind me and—”

  Owen shrugs out of his jacket and hands it to me. “Here, wear this. It’ll cover everything you need it to.”

  I want to kiss him.

  Well, let’s be real, I already wanted that.

  Now, I want to kiss him and hump his leg.

  Okay, okay, I wanted that before, too.

  I grab the jacket before he changes his mind. “Thank you.”

  He confuses me when he exits the stall we’ve been squashed in and says to Poppy, “Good luck with your shares. Yell out if you need help. I can recommend some great brokers.”

  “Wait,” I call out. “You’re not coming with us so you can get your jacket back?” I cringe at how desperate I must sound. I’m just not ready to let him go yet. I want more time in his company. I want to stare into those eyes of his and imagine swimming some more.

  His baby blues sparkle as they take me in again. “Keep the jacket. I have a feeling you need it more than I do tonight.”

  With that, he turns and leaves Poppy and me alone in the bathroom. I’m ready to sag against the wall and run a play-by-play in my head of the entire interaction I just had with Owen, but Poppy grabs my arm and demands, “We need to go!”

  She drags me out of the cubicle before I can collect myself. I stumble because I’m only wearing one of her Amazonian-inspired heels. “Geez, Pop, give me a moment.”

  Letting me go, she drops her gaze to my feet. “Where is your other shoe? Goodness, Charles, what’s gotten into you tonight? You’re a mess.”

  I make my way to where my other shoe landed in the corner of the bathroom when it broke. Snatching it up off the ground, I mutter, “You got into me tonight! You made me dress up in shit I would never usually wear. I’m so far out of my comfort zone it’s not funny. And being in this hotel for the entire weekend with my mother is enough to put me off my game for months. You’re lucky I love you as much as I do.”

  She takes a deep breath and allows some of the tension in her body to seep out. “You really must love me. Who else would put up with all my shit? Especially when I didn’t even ask you to be one of my bridesmaids. I’m sorry I’m such a shitty cousin.”

  I put my arm around her waist as we exit the bathroom. “You’re not a shitty cousin. And for the record, I do not do the bridesmaid thing. You know that. And can I just say, this jacket is the best jacket I’ve ever worn in my life.” It really is. Mostly because it smells all manly and sexy.

  “That’s because it belongs to Owen North. I’m not sure how you managed to get him into that stall with you, but girl, he’s the guy every woman at this wedding wants to score.”

  She says his name like it should mean something to me, but it doesn’t. Poppy and I might come from the same family, but I’ve distanced myself from them and everything they stand for. I’ve also removed myself from their world. Today was the first time I’ve seen my parents in months. So, throwing out Owen’s name isn’t of any use to me, because I don’t know who he is, and I have no intention of finding out.

  He might be hot.

  And I might want to go swimming with him.

  But there’s no way Owen North and I would ever be a match.

  “What the hell made you look up your shares at your wedding, anyway?” I ask Poppy as we head towards the elevators.

  “Don’t give me hell about my devotion to my shares, Charles. A girl has to make sure she’s able to take care of herself at all times. Even if she is married now.”

  I laugh.

  Our mothers may have taught us a lot of useless stuff about how to act in public, how to host a dinner party, and how to walk in heels, but they also made sure we knew how to fend for ourselves in life.

  2

  Owen

  I grimace as I rake my fingers through my hair and stare at Julian. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

  His lips flatten as he pulls a face. The kind of face that tells me he’s not fucking kidding me. “Sorry, man. I wish I were. But he effectively wiped ten mil off your bottom line last night.”

  I don’t waste time mulling my choices over. As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one to be made here. “Get rid of him and find me a new analyst. And get Maxwell to take over his work.”

  Julian nods, and after he leaves, I swivel my chair so I’m facing the view of Sydney city I have from my office. It’s not so much the lost cash that’s angered me; we’ll make that up without a problem. It’s Graham, one of my analysts. He’s been sloppy for months now, at least six. I’ve given him space and time to fix whatever the hell is wrong in his life, but he’s continued to make mistake after mistake. If there’s one thing I can’t tolerate, it’s people who waste opportunities.

  My phone rings and I answer it in the pissed-off mood I’m in. “What?”

  “Owen, that’s no way to answer your phone.”

  I rub my temples. It’s just gone nine in the morning, and already my day has turned to shit. “What are you doing calling me so early in the morning, Mother?” She’s usually at some gathering with her friends or at the gym or something that involves other people. My mother has an incessant need to be surrounded by people she can impress. I love her, but I’ll never understand that desire.

  “Can a mother not call her son?”

  Jesus. Today is not the day for this. “I’m sorry, but I’m dealing with something that is time sensitive. Can I call you back if it’s not urgent?”

  “I was simply calling to let you know I spoke with Marcia Montgomery. She tells me that John says you’re a shoo-in for the Bluestone Award. I thought you might like to know.”

  Her cool tone lets me know I’ve upset her, but it’s not the first time I’ve done that, and it won’t be the last, so I ignore it. “Thanks, Mum. I’ll call you later when everything settles down.”

  “Oh, Owen, one other thing. Jill. You need to keep her on side. If she rocks the boat, that award may go to another company.”

  My ex wife.

  The one who still owns half my company.

  “I have to go.” Getting into yet another discussion with my mother about my ex isn’t something I want to do this morning.

  “I told you that you needed to force her out, Ow
en. She—”

  I squeeze the stress ball my brother, Ryan, gave me for moments exactly like this one. If anyone understands the difficulties involved in dealing with Mary North, it’s Ryan. “I’m hanging up now, Mother, but I’ll take your advice under advisement.”

  Without giving her another second to continue her lecture, I end the call and throw the stress ball at the closed door of my office. Unfortunately, my assistant, Tahlia, chooses this very moment to enter my office.

  “Shit, Owen!” she yells when the ball hits her fair in the chest. “You’re lucky it’s me who that ball hit and not Jill.”

  I shove my chair back and stand. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Tahlia. Are you okay?”

  She swipes the ball off the floor and pelts it back at me. “I am now,” she mutters when it hits me in the chest. “Let me guess, your mother?”

  Raking my fingers through my hair, I exhale a frustrated breath. “Yes. That woman is more than I can handle this morning.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, but it seems there’s another situation that may need your handling right now. Some woman is letting loose on Dirk outside his office, and for once, I don’t think he’s able to handle it.”

  Dirk is our HR guy and an all-round jerk most of the time. The only reason he still works for North & Co is that Jill fights me every time I try to fire him. She either has a soft spot for the asshole or she is determined to keep him because I want him gone. I can’t read her mind any better now than I could when we were married, so I can’t be sure which it is.

  “That would be a first. I’m half tempted not to get involved.”

  “I’m completely with you on that except for the fact there’s a reporter on her way to interview you for that article about the Bluestone Award.”

  Shit, I’d forgotten about that.

  I nod. “Okay, leave it with me. I’ll head down there now and sort it out.”

  She hands over a thick stack of files. “And after you’ve sorted that, these need to be taken care of. Looks like it’s gonna be a long day today, boss.”

  I dump the files on my desk, irritated that I always end up having to fix Jill’s mistakes. Because that’s what these records contain. Problems she’s caused. She refused to allow me to buy her out of the company when we divorced, and I didn’t force her hand because I understood what this company meant to her. We’d built it together during the six years of our marriage, and I’d hoped that her fight to keep half of it would mean she’d put our differences aside for the sake of the company’s success. That was a year ago, and since then she seems to have replaced her intelligence with stupidity. North & Co might be doing well financially, but behind the scenes, we’re a mess of bad decisions and battles for control. I’m close to losing my patience with her. The only things keeping me in check are the Bluestone Award and the fact I once loved and respected her.

  I push her to the back of my mind and head towards Dirk’s office, which is at the other end of the floor I’m on. The shouting that’s taking place gets louder with every step I take. When Dirk and the woman come into view, I frown as I see who it is.

  Charlize.

  The woman I met in a bathroom at Dougall and Poppy’s wedding a few nights ago.

  The woman who has captivated my thoughts since.

  I know her by voice alone.

  “Dirk,” I bark, “What’s going on here?”

  Charlize instantly stops her ranting and spins to face me, eyes wide. Her face scrunches into a frown, and I can’t help but think that even when she’s frowning, she’s beautiful. “Owen?”

  Goddam that voice turns me on. Charlize has a sultry tone that hits me right in the gut. From the second she’d asked me the other night if I always wandered into women’s bathrooms, I’d been held hostage by that voice. And as she’d shown me a piece of who she is while she lost her shit over the ripped dress, I’d been bewitched.

  I want to stop and talk to her, but at this very moment, my main goal is to rip Dirk a new one. Dragging my gaze from Charlize, I give him my attention again. “Dirk?”

  Whatever is going on here has him wound so tight he looks ready to snap. “This bitch came in for an interview about an hour ago and has now come back to my office to let me know she’s not happy she didn’t get it.”

  His use of the word bitch unleashes my anger. I’m about to let him have it when Charlize takes over.

  In a much more controlled manner than the ranting she was doing a moment ago, she says, “First, I don’t appreciate you referring to a woman who stands up for herself as a bitch. I know your type, and I don’t like you, but I would never refer to you as a motherfucker because you stood up for your rights. Second, damn straight I’m not happy that you chose a man over me just because he’s a man. But third, I’m glad to know how this company operates because working here is the last thing I want to do now.”

  Charlize’s long hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail high on her head. It bobs all over the place while she lets Dirk know how she feels, and I’m distracted by the damn thing almost to the point of not keeping pace with their argument. Not only am I distracted by it moving around, but I’m also fascinated with the colours she now has in her once-blonde hair. It’s a mixture of purples, blues, and pinks—colours that weren’t there the night we met.

  I draw my attention back to the matter at hand and cut in on Dirk who is giving her all the reasons under the sun as to why he would never hire her. I have a feeling that she’s right—that he did hire someone just because he was a male. Dirk holds a grudge against the women in my company. Something about women only being fit for jobs that don’t require much brain capacity. His words, not mine.

  I look at Charlize. “How do you know he hired based on sex?”

  She meets my gaze, and I suck in a breath at the fire I see in her eyes. I hardly know her at all, but I get the distinct impression she’s a spitfire when it comes to some things. This being one of those things. “I overheard him while I was in the bathroom. I was just coming out when he told someone that he would never hire a woman, let alone one with multi-coloured hair. He said something about only interviewing me to keep the boss happy and the company out of any possible sex discrimination lawsuit.”

  Jesus.

  I work hard to keep my calm.

  “You can’t prove a fucking thing, bitch!” Dirk spits.

  My calm snaps. Turning to him, I bark, “Walk away, Dirk. Get back to work and leave this for me to handle. I don’t want to see or hear from you until I come looking for you.”

  His eyes widen. It’s not often I lose my calm. However, he doesn’t back down easily. “She’s got nothing on us, Owen, I—”

  “Now!”

  With one last glare directed at Charlize, he turns to walk away. He’s almost back in his office when she calls out after him. “By the way, you should have hired me. No way would I have ever advised North & Co to invest in those Vistaland shares. My advice at that time would have been to buy up Panorama shares, and for the record, I’d still advise that today if you’re looking to make up the millions you dropped overnight. Just sayin’.”

  I have to give Dirk credit. He slows as she calls out to him, but he doesn’t engage. A moment later, his door slams shut, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Now, to fix the shit he’s put the company in.

  “I’m sorry about what’s happened thi—”

  She cuts me off, her eyes softening as she meets my gaze. “Look, it blows that I didn’t get the job, but it’s not your fault, Owen. And to be honest, I don’t think I would want to work here anyway. My guess is that the guy who owns the place must be a real asshole if he hires men like Dirk.”

  My brows lift. “I’m the asshole who owns the place, Charlize.”

  She blinks. “Oh.”

  “So you know, Dirk won’t be here much longer.”

  “Good. Your company will be much better off without him.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re a financial analyst? And y
ou know we invested in Vistaland?”

  “I guess you could call me that. And didn’t everyone know that North & Co invested in Vista?”

  That is true. Our investment was heavily reported at the time, and the share price rose along with that. My company is well known for its wise trades. Lately, though, not so much. My team of analysts have been making rookie mistakes all over the place, and the problems between Jill and me are allowing those mistakes to continue.

  So while my investment in Vista is well known in financial circles, I’m intrigued as to how Charlize knows. “What do you mean by “I could call you that”? Either you’re an analyst or you’re not.”

  She slings her bag over her shoulder. It’s the same bag she had at the wedding. A large black one that looks like it’s seen better days. “Look, does this even matter? It’s not like you need to know my education and job history. I’m not applying for another job here.”

  I can’t figure out why she’s turned cagey all of a sudden. It’s like she’s trying to avoid answering my question. I cross my arms over my chest. “Humour me.”

  She stares at me for a good few moments, not saying a word. She seems to be thinking hard about what she’s going to say. Fiddling with the strap of her bag, she finally blurts, “Fine. I never finished my degree. I have no formal education, so I guess I can’t really call myself an analyst. But it’s what I do. I know the stock market like the back of my hand, and I love it. So that’s probably the real reason why Dirk didn’t give me the job. It just pisses me off that he also judged me based on my hair and the fact I’m a woman.”

  I thought I was intrigued before. Now I’m fucking captivated. She has no formal qualifications, yet she’s throwing out advice about trades like a pro. She’s on the money about the Panorama shares. They’re exactly the shares I’d expect an analyst to recommend.

  “So let’s say—” I start, but Tahlia comes running down the hall towards me and cuts me off, a look of panic on her face.

  “Owen! I need your help. Right now!”