Betting On Love

by Danielle Dickson

  Her cute nose scrunches up. “Gross, on that note I’m ready to get back to the chocolate. Curiosity satisfied.”

  I laugh and walk over to what looks like closet doors, although I know what’s behind them. I motion for her to follow me.

  “No, thanks, I’m getting back to dessert,” she quips.

  “Trust me, Billie, you’ll want to come down this way,” I reply cryptically. She raises a brow but walks over to me anyway.

  “Well go on then,” I say, motioning toward the doors. She looks back at me then opens them tentatively.

  “No frigging way!” she squeals. “How? Why is your apartment so much better than mine? That’s not fair!”

  My chest rattles with laughter and I walk into the small space with her, wrapping my leg around the pole and sliding down effortlessly.

  I look back up at her. “Need some help?”

  She flips me the bird and twirls around, reaching the floor like she was made to be on a pole. “That was so much fun! I want a fireman’s pole in my apartment,” she moans sweetly.

  I smile after her as she bounces toward the kitchen and pops a strawberry into her mouth. Turning around on her stool to face the living area, she looks around with inquisitive eyes. Her face scrunches up. “Hang on a minute, if that’s only your bedroom ‘sometimes,’ then where do you sleep the rest of the time? And where’s your bathroom? Surely you need to pee and shower somewhere.”

  I skewer a marshmallow, dipping it into the chocolate and taking a bite before I say, “I designed this apartment to be fun and look good, but I also designed it to be secretive. I like my privacy. So in other words, you’ll never know. Unless you play your cards right”

  I finish with a wink and she gets up off her stool.

  “You designed this? Mac, that’s incredible. You have a talent.”

  Her compliment makes a spark light inside of me and I stand up and lean against the counter, following her with my eyes as she walks around the room looking at things. “I didn’t just design it, I knocked everything down and rebuilt.”

  She nods her head looking impressed. “Wow, that must’ve taken some time.”

  I clear my throat and nod as I watch her near the bookcase that houses the rest of my apartment behind it. “Took a few months, but we finally got there. I don’t rent, this place is mine so I did whatever I wanted to it, within reason of course, it all had to be verified still.”

  “Mhmm,” she hums, rolling the bookcase to the side.

  I laugh. “How did you know?”

  She smirks at me. “All the villains have secret rooms hidden behind bookcases. Very cliché, by the way.”

  I laugh out loud at her comment before following her through the bookcase.

  There’s three rooms back here; the bathroom, a guest room, and my personal bedroom. She reaches the guest bedroom first and peers in before walking down the hallway and totally bypassing the bathroom.

  “You missed one,” I say, pointing at the wall beside me.

  “Huh?”

  I point to the wall again. “I thought you were invading my whole personal space, so I thought I’d point out you’d missed a room.”

  She brushes her hand over the wall until she finds the barely noticeable seam and pushes. The door opens with a little click and she gives me an impressed look before walking in.

  In here there’s a large shower cubicle, wash basin, and toilet. I designed it to be rustic and everything is made out of driftwood and frosted glass.

  She spots the other door and points to it. “Where does that lead?”

  I shrug. “Open it and find out, Scooby Doo.”

  She smiles sarcastically at me before opening it up and walking straight into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. I know what she’s seeing from the other side, it’s just another door disguised as a pantry.

  She walks back in and nods her head. “You’re a lot smarter than I gave you credit for.”

  You have no idea, I say to her in my head.

  Holy shit! His apartment is incredible, it’s like I’ve walked onto a film set of James Bond or something. Okay, maybe not quite like that, but this is definitely the coolest apartment I’ve ever been in. I’m trying not to go crazy and fawn over every little detail because let’s face it, every single detail, down to what book is placed where, is perfect.

  When I walk back into his bathroom, I can’t see a way to get back into the hallway behind the bookcase. The panel shuts behind you automatically and there’s no handle this side. Weird. He smirks as he watches me try to decipher it but it drops from his face as I push on a random tile on the wall when I remember where the panel was and it clicks open.

  I wink at him before stepping back into the hallway and up to some white sliding doors at the very end. He opens them for me and reveals the master bedroom, and for a moment I’m completely taken aback, this is not what I expected from Mac of all people. I think I’m just starting to realise that you definitely shouldn’t judge a book by its cover— or cocky behaviour apparently.

  “There’s no way you decorated this apartment,” I say in awe.

  He smirks. “You don’t know much about me, so that’s a pretty big assumption. For all you know I could also be into interior design.”

  “Well, are you?”

  “I had a little help, but the majority of it was me,” he admits.

  A king-size bed sits on top of dark varnished palettes with cream, taupe, and white stag head sheets and pillows. A white brick wall sits behind the bed with gold writing lamps attached and a black Roman numeral clock hangs directly above the wooden, shabby headboard. But what really catches my attention is what I presume to be his wardrobe, although I can never really be too sure in Mac’s hands now. The guy’s a complete mystery.

  I walk over and run my hand across the soft leather and metal buckles feeling speechless. I look over at him and instead of the smug grin he’s had on his face throughout my tour, a serious almost lust-filled expression fills his features. The way he’s looking at me is so intense that I have to clear my throat and turn around again, facing the doors that are designed to look like an old-fashioned suitcase.

  I feel him walk up behind me and the tension that crackles between us is something I’ve never felt before. It makes me panic and I turn around quickly and bash my face into his chest in the process. “Ow!”

  He steadies me and chuckles softly as I rub my nose. “You’re the only female to ever set foot in this room, apart from my sister who was actually the one who helped with the accessories.”

  I look up into his swirling whiskey eyes and the smug look has returned, dousing the fire that was starting to heat between us. I’m not going there.

  I walk out of his bedroom, press open the bathroom door that swings shut behind me, and walk through the door to his kitchen; sitting myself back on the stool at his breakfast bar and take a swig of my beer that I left sitting here before my impromptu tour.

  Mac saunters out two minutes later and shuts the door behind him— that you would never expect to lead anywhere other than a food cupboard—and leans against it. I stare at him and he looks back at me with curiosity etched on his face.

  Don’t do it, Mac, I groan in my head, but he does. He walks forward and asks me the one thing that I don’t want him to. “Why are you so guarded with me?”

  “I’m not, I agreed to the bet and I’ve been a good sport about it so far I thought,” I answer him, trying to lighten the subject.

  He hesitates and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Who are Callum and Jessica?”

  I tense up and look out of the floor-length windows into the now black sky. “You heard that?” He doesn’t say anything so I sigh. “Callum is my ex, and Jessica is— was my best friend. I don’t think I need to tell you what happened, but it did so you need to understand that I’m a little untrustworthy when it comes to guys.”

  “I’m not him though.”

  I snort out a laugh and look at the sharp edges of his
masculine face, comparing it to the softer planes of Callum’s. “No, you’re not.”

  “Maybe talking to someone about it will help?”

  “Oh I’ve talked about it. I’ve talked, ranted, shouted, but you hardly want to hear all the morbid details, Mac. It was a typical cliché: best friend sleeps with fiancé, but I never saw it coming, you know?” He nods his head but his face screws up as I say the word “fiancé.”

  I laugh sarcastically. “Long story short, it was our engagement party the same day I found them in bed together and we needed some more bits for the food table so I went to the shops. When I got back to my house, I heard her squealing the place down so my crazy meter hit the roof and I opened a bottle of ketchup and a bottle of mustard along with jars of pickles, beetroot, and pickled onions and lined them up outside our bedroom door. They were at it the whole time I was doing this but with the adrenaline running through me, I managed to blank it out as I marched in there and threw and squirted everything all over them.”

  He laughs. “Fuck off! What did they do?”

  “She cried and squealed because I’d got pickle juice and mustard in her eyes and he begged me to take him back.”

  “What an asshole.”

  I nod my head in agreement. “That’s my story. After that, I left him straight away and here I am in America, sitting in a stranger’s apartment no more than two months later.”

  Instead of the pity I expect to see reflected in his eyes, when I look back at him I see what looks like admiration. He shrugs and sits down on the stool beside me. “Hey, at least you raised a little hell before you left him. Man, I wish I could’ve seen that.”

  I grin and pull out my mobile, scrolling through my photos and handing him it. He takes one look at the screen and bursts into raucous laughter.

  “You took a picture? You’re officially one of the coolest people I know.”

  I chuckle. “I wanted evidence of the cheating bastard and now I can’t bring myself to delete it. It reminds me that I got a little payback.”

  It goes silent and he nudges my shoulder, handing me back my phone. “Do they have Monopoly in England?”

  “Are you insane? Of course we have Monopoly, I’ve been playing it since I was old enough to walk.”

  He walks over to a wooden chest and lifts the lid, taking out a box. “You’ve just set yourself up for a fall, B, Monopoly was made in America. I happen to be the best in the biz.”

  My heart flutters at the nickname he’s created for me and I don’t think he even realised he did it.

  I jump off my stool and point at him, all past conversation forgotten. “You’re on.”

  I rub my eyes trying to rid them of the sleepy haze I’ve been in for most of the day. Billie didn’t leave until three in the morning after I beat her a second time at Monopoly. I was always going to win, I always do, but she wasn’t happy about it. She pouted her full lips and didn’t even say goodbye to me as she stormed right out of my apartment.

  I laugh at the memory.

  “Mac?” I look over at Frank, one of my colleagues, and motion with a nod of my head for him to talk. “Jessie asked me to tell you to go and look at the accounts after work today just to make sure they’re all kosher.”

  I nod and wave goodbye to him as I look around the parking lot for Billie’s red Toyota, sighing in disappointment when I can’t see it. I haven’t seen her properly all day to gloat about both of my winnings and it irks me that I care about where she is and what she’s doing. I saw her earlier looking over her shoulder, almost as if she was watching for me. I think she’s waiting for my retaliation for her covering my car with Post-it notes but I know better than to retaliate right away. I want to lure her into a false sense of security then strike when she least expects it, although I already have everything I need for when the time is right.

  I climb into my car and drive my way to the office, not able to take my mind off her the whole time.

  Jessie rakes her eyes down my body as I step into the office; been there, done that, but she’s always tried to come back for a second time… I don’t do second times.

  “Hey, Mac,” she purrs.

  “Hey, Jessie. Frank told me you wanted to see me?”

  She swivels around in her chair and I can’t help but notice the skirt that she’s wearing rides higher up her thighs. She sees me looking and smirks, standing up and stepping within inches of me.

  “Yeah, can you quickly check everything over and make sure I’m doing it right?”

  I’ve never used anyone to fill in for me before, but this time I made an exception since we’re already a man down with Connor being away. “You were recommended by your brother, I’m sure you’re doing just fine,” I reply, sitting down in the chair she just vacated.

  As I look over the accounts, my blood starts to boil. “Why is the income going down? And why are the invoices from last week sitting in the outbox still?”

  She startles and bends down beside me looking over the spreadsheet, stammering, “I... I don’t know what’s happened. I double-checked to make sure everything was added up before you came, I must’ve pressed something. Here, let me see.”

  She starts clicking at the mouse.

  I brush her hand off. “Leave it. Go home, Jessie, we won’t be needing you from now on.”

  She huffs and throws her hands on her hips. “I’ll still be paid for the last few days though, right?”

  I raise a brow at her and she sighs, grabbing her bag and walking out of the office. Of course she’ll be paid but she’s just set me back two weeks’ worth of work, I’ll be up all night trying to sort out this mess, not to mention that I’ll miss out on time with Billie. Damn.

  I send a copy of the accounts and invoices to my personal email and shut down the computer, locking up behind me as I leave. My cell rings and I frown down at the caller, huffing out a breath before answering.

  “Hi, Case.”

  “Well hello to you too, I’m surprised you actually picked up your phone. I haven’t been able to get in touch with you since last week,” she scoffs.

  “Yeah, I’ve been busy.”

  She chuckles. “Or does it have anything to do with the fact that it’s Dad’s birthday dinner next week?”

  “Don’t remind me,” I mumble, more to myself than to her.

  “Don’t do this,” she sighs out.

  “Do what, Case? I only see them on special occasions, and that’s only because you force me to go,” I grind out.

  She’s quiet for a minute. “I would hardly see you otherwise.”

  Her soft tone makes me rub a hand down my face. “I can’t be around them without Mom giving me a lecture.”

  “It’s not easy for me either, but they’re our parents, I deal with them because I have to.”

  “Fine, I’ll be there, but I’m bringing someone.”

  She scoffs. “What? Macswell Jennings is bringing a date to meet the parents?”

  “Yeah, he is. Look I’ll see you there, I have to go,” I say, desperate to stop talking about my parents.

  “You better turn up, don’t leave me to put up with them alone,” she grumbles.

  I chuckle. “I’ll be there with bells on. Later, Case.”

  She likes to pretend she’s the good one of the two of us, but she has the same opinions as me. My family is… set in their ways, to put it mildly. Mom still holds a grudge against me for not taking my dad up on his offer to be a part of the family company, but they don’t need me, they have Casey-Leigh for that.

  I smile when I pull up outside of my apartment building and see Billie’s car parked there, I know I have lots of work to do but it wouldn’t hurt to stop by and see how she is. Fuuuccckkk! What is wrong with me?

  Why am I bothered about how she is or how her day was? I have to up my game. I need to end this, and soon.

  I knock on her door and lean forward, my hands against the top of the doorframe and my head facing the floor. Her footsteps get louder and the door opens just as I
look up at her, a smile spreading across her face before she clears her throat.

  “Hey,” she says, waving me in.

  I shake my head. “Can’t stay for long, just wanted to come see you weren’t still being a sore loser after last night.”

  She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest making my eyes automatically look there. She doesn’t have the biggest chest I’ve ever seen, but they’d fit perfectly in my hands.

  “Eyes up here, douche canoe,” she scoffs.

  I tut. “Still bitter, I see. Anyway, now that I see that you’re still pouting over your loss, I’ll leave you to wallow in your misery.” I start to walk away until I remember the phone call from Case. “Oh, are you free next Wednesday night?”

  She leans out her door and looks down the hallway toward me. “I might have plans, why?”

  I chuckle at her sarcasm. “Do you have a nice dress to wear?”

  “Where are you going with this?” she asks, raising a brow at me.

  “Well do you?” She nods. “Alright then, don’t make plans for Wednesday,” I say, winking and walking away.

  “Mac?”

  I turn just before I round the corner to my apartment. “Yeah?”

  She looks down at her watch. “Time’s ticking to get your revenge, my fingers are twitching. Don’t make me finish this without you retaliating first.”

  She winks and walks back into her apartment, leaving me standing there gobsmacked. I better get a move on.

  An hour later I’m eating Chinese and elbow deep in the messed-up accounts when Billie walks in, eyes my Chinese, takes it out of my hands and sits down cross-legged on my sofa facing me, but she doesn’t say anything.

  “Can I ask a dumb question?”

  She smirks and twists some noodles around the fork. “Better than anyone I know.”

  I pretend to laugh sarcastically. “Do I even want to know how you just got into my apartment?”

  She shrugs. “That depends, if you asked I couldn’t tell you, if I did I’d have to kill you.”

  She receives a belly laugh for her comment and I lean back in my office chair. “No, seriously.”