by Jess Dee
“I don’t need a whiteboard, I have a clear visual in my head. And so far Yes is leading three to one.”
He chuckled. No wonder the opposition player had asked for her number. Ava might be small, but she packed a mighty punch. “Av,” he said, serious again. “Is she coming home anytime soon?”
“I don’t know, Jimmy. I’ve seen her as little as you have. I’m worried about her, to be honest. She’s been…super stressed lately.”
“Any idea what’s going on?”
“None. And every time I ask, she just turns the conversation back to me.”
Talking about which… “She has a point there. How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“No dodging bullets. I mean how are you really? You doing okay?”
“Why is it any time any one of the Sunday Night Dinner Club gets me on my own, you all get this look in your eyes and want to know how I’m doing?”
“Maybe because we’ve all been around you this last year, and we’re worried about you?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I think you’re all worried I’ll break if you treat me like a normal person.”
James looked her dead in the eye. “Will you?”
“Have I broken so far?”
“No one knows. You keep whatever happened bottled so deep inside, none of us is sure.” It ate up each and every one of them. All the friends knew Ava had gone through hell while married—she just refused to tell any of them exactly what that hell had been. The best they could do was reassure her they were there if she needed them. So far, she hadn’t, but the light that used to shine in her eyes had died, and James missed it.
“I’m fine, Jimmy. Whole and in one piece. If I haven’t broken yet, it’s safe to assume I won’t break in the future either.”
“Hey?”
“Yeah?”
“You know I’m here if you need me. You can break any time, and I’ll help you fit the pieces back together.”
She smiled at him. “I know you are. Thank you. But my pieces are all just fine.”
As they always were. There was nothing more James could do. He nodded and dropped the subject, standing. “Will you let Liv know I was here?”
“Of course. Any messages for her?”
What message could he leave when he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say? Even if he spoke to her face to face, he had no idea how to put his thoughts into words—or what those thoughts were. All he knew was he wanted to see her again, soon.
His skin itched with the need to lay eyes on her. “Nah. Just let her know I was here.”
“No worries.”
“See you later.” He waved as he let himself out of her unit, then turned to head up to his.
And there was Olivia, walking through the lobby. A jolt seared through his gut as though he’d been struck by a live cable.
“Liv.”
“James.” She looked surprised to see him. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” Jesus, he’d always known Liv was pretty, but he’d never considered her the most beautiful woman in Sydney—until this second. He hitched his thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of her door. “I was just looking for you.”
“You were?”
“Yeah. I figured we should talk.”
The color seemed to drain from her face, and she hesitated before answering. “Can we please not?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Avoiding me, Liv?”
“No.” She shook her head unconvincingly. “I’m exhausted. All I want to do is climb into bed and go to sleep.”
He cast a critical eye over her. She wasn’t lying. Her skin was pale, dark circles shadowed her eyes making them look bruised, and her cheeks were gaunt. To make matters worse, her skirt hung loosely from her hips. If it were possible, she looked even thinner now than she had on Sunday. “When last did you eat?”
Liv shrugged. “Dunno. Lunch. Or breakfast.”
“Today?”
“Yeah.” Liv’s hand fluttered in the air. “Or yesterday.”
He grimaced. “What did you have?”
“Salad. Or toast. Some tea too. Or maybe it was Coke Zero.” Her expression was as vague as her answers.
Fuck. She couldn’t pin down what she’d eaten, never mind when she’d eaten it. Instinct took over. Just like he had four nights ago, he tackled Liv, hauling her up and tossing her over his shoulder. The woman needed a good meal, and if she couldn’t feed herself, he’d do it for her.
“What the…?” she yelped.
Her bag thunked to the floor, and James crouched to pick it up, hanging it over his other shoulder.
“Put me down.” She smacked his ass, hard.
He headed to the entrance of the building, his entire body aware of the woman draped over him.
“Are you out of your mind? Let go!”
He jogged along the garden path and headed to his ute down the road. The exertion helped to keep his mind off the smooth curve of her bare legs beneath his arm, her kicking feet and the bouncing of her small breasts against his back.
“For God’s sake. Put me down.”
His knee twinged, as it always did when he overexerted himself, but he paid it no heed. He was used to the pain of old rugby injuries. Besides, with any luck, the ache would ease his growing erection.
Lucky Liv had a bird’s eye view of his back, not his front.
“James!” Again she smacked his ass, only this time it was with both hands, and he suspected she’d balled them into fists.
The combined pain of her attack and his knee had no effect on his burgeoning erection. James suspected nothing would soften his cock where she was concerned. He’d pretty much been hard, on and off, the whole fucking week.
“Blech,” she griped. “Gonna…throw…up.”
James wasn’t worried. Liv had nothing in her stomach to throw up. He tackled the last few meters of the walk.
She bit him. Dug her teeth into his waist and bit.
“Jesus. That hurt.” He reached the ute and set her back on her feet with a groan.
She wavered, and he immediately wrapped an arm around her waist so she wouldn’t fall.
Liv punched him in the stomach.
The breath left him in a whoosh. For such a slight woman, she packed a hefty punch.
“Damn it, don’t you do that again. Ever.” She shook out her fingers as though she’d hurt them. “Now I have to walk all the way back to the building.”
“Not a chance.” He steered her to the passenger door, and because he outweighed her by a good fifty kilos, Liv had no choice but to scamper alongside him. “You’re getting into my car, and we’re going to put food in your belly.”
“No, we’re not.” She twisted, trying to get out of his hold. “I’m going home to sleep. There’s plenty of food in my flat. I’ll find something there.”
He tightened his arm. “Until I see you’ve eaten a decent meal, you’re not going anywhere. Quit wriggling and walk with me. It’ll be easier for everyone.”
“You’re treating me like I’m a pesky kid.” She pinched his forearm.
His skin stung. “You’re acting like a pesky kid.”
“James.” She stopped walking, and so did he. Something in her tone got to him. Probably the undisguised desperation tinged with fatigue. “I really just want to go to sleep.”
“And I promise I’ll let you—I’ll even tuck you into bed—as soon as I’ve seen you eat a meal.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yeah, I get that. But you’re going to make yourself sick if you keep up with the hunger strike.”
“Food holds no appeal.” Her stomach growled, contradicting her words.
“Apparently.” He gave her a wry frown. “I promise not to keep you out long. You’ll be home by nine and then you can sleep to your heart’s content. Just for now, humor me. Have dinner. Okay?”
Her belly rumbled again, and her shoulders sagged. “Fine. Whatever.”
“Good.” And with the argum
ent settled, James helped her into the front seat and drove her to the Blue Monkey, a Thai restaurant in Rosebay, five minutes from the flat.
“Table for two?” the hostess asked when they arrived.
James nodded, struck by the idea that this was the first time he and Liv had dined alone in years. Probably since their uni days. And even then, he wasn’t sure grabbing a cup of coffee or a sandwich between lectures or sharing hot chips while studying counted as dining alone.
They ordered pad Thai for him and a green curry for Liv, and James got spring rolls, crab cakes and jasmine rice for good measure. He would have asked for a gin and tonic for Liv, but figured alcohol probably wasn’t a great idea if Liv hadn’t eaten for days. They settled for lemon, lime and bitters instead.
“Since when do you make it a practice to kidnap your neighbors?” Liv asked as the waitress walked off.
“It’s not kidnapping when there’s genuine concern involved. I’m worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
He flashed her a do you think I’m stupid? look.
Liv glared. “My sleeping with you once doesn’t give you the right to barge in and take control of my life.”
“I’m not taking control.” He wouldn’t dare. Not when he knew how much Liv valued her independence. “And for the record? I’m happy to turn once into twice. Just say the word.” His body still thrummed with the energy that had blindsided him in her room on Sunday evening.
“Once is staying once. End of story.”
Not if he had any say in the matter. “Let’s focus on one issue at a time. Tell me about your hunger strike.”
“I’m not on a hunger strike.”
“So why you haven’t eaten in weeks?”
“I eat all the time. I ate yesterday.”
“Jesus, Liv. Quit the crap. Talk to me. Tell me what has you tied up in knots.”
Olivia inhaled deeply and glared some more.
James held his breath, anticipating the lecture he knew would follow. Liv was about to insist, most graphically, that he mind his own bloody business.
Instead, she…wilted. Her shoulders drooped, her face fell and she looked at him through sad blue eyes. “It’s all falling apart, Jimmy.”
His heart twisted, a pang of emotion hitting him smack in the chest. “What is?”
“Everything. Work. My life. My future. All of it.”
“How?”
“Beautiful Homes is finished. The business has gone down the toilet in a big way.”
James gaped at her. “I had no idea.”
“No one did. No one does. It’s bad, Jimmy,” she whispered. “Like really, really bad. Worse than you can imagine.”
“Tell me.”
She glanced around, as though making sure no other customers could hear. “Marion lost all the money. Every last cent. There’s nothing left. Not even enough to pay her staff or her creditors. And there are a shitload of unpaid creditors.”
“Is she closing the company?”
“She’s considering lodging a debtor’s petition.”
“Declaring bankruptcy?”
Liv nodded, her blue eyes bleak.
“When?”
“Soon. Maybe next week.”
James took her hands in his. They were ice cold, and he rubbed them several times to warm them up. “Did Marion know the business was in trouble when she offered you a partnership?”
Seven months ago, Marion had offered her the shares and Liv had snapped them up.
Liv sighed. “Her personal finances were in ruin by then, not the business’s. But she knew she’d need more money, which is why she made me the offer in the first place.”
What the fuck? Marion had had ulterior motives? She hadn’t done it because she thought Liv was an awesome interior designer? The knowledge rocked the seat James sat on. The woman who’d taken Liv under her wing and treated her like a daughter for six years had taken callous advantage of her.
Slivers of anger slid through his veins. “And you accepted? Knowing there were problems?”
“God, no. I had no idea. She kept her personal situation very quiet. When Spence and I looked at the books before I invested, everything was fine.”
It made sense Spencer had helped her. He was an accountant, a numbers man through and through.
The waitress arrived with the food, placing their conversation on hold for a few minutes. She set the dishes in the middle of the table and gave them each a plate.
Reluctantly, James released Liv’s hands to reach for a spoon. Much as he wanted to keep on holding them, food was a primary need now. He served Liv a healthy portion of everything and watched with an eagle eye until she dutifully took her first mouthful. And her second.
All the while, he mulled over her situation.
She gave him a small smile. “You can stop watching me. I promise to eat it all.”
He nodded and helped himself to noodles. They ate in silence for a while, James deliberately waiting until she’d cleared at least half her plate before he picked up the conversation.
“So you went into this thinking everything was fine?”
“More than fine.” Liv shook her head, as though she couldn’t believe she’d been such a fool. “She painted a fantastic picture of everything she planned to do with the company. Told me she wanted to grow Beautiful Homes. Hire new designers and move to bigger offices. Maybe even open branches in Melbourne and Canberra. I was salivating before she even offered me a partnership.”
“You wanted in?” Obviously she had, or she’d never have gone ahead with the deal.
“I wanted to make a move. I was tired of being a paid employee. For months I’d been toying with the idea of opening up my own business. You know I love my work. I love what I do, but I was getting restless working for someone else. Then Marion comes to talk to me about this awesome growth opportunity, and asks if I’d like to be a partner in the growth.”
“So you jumped at it.”
Liv ate a few more bites and washed them down with her drink. “I gave it serious consideration. Figured I had two choices. I could invest the money I’d saved over the last six years in a startup business, all alone, while facing a restraint of trade so I couldn’t poach customers from Beautiful Homes. Or I could invest the same money in an established company—that I knew and had helped build. Either way, I’d be an owner, not an employee.” She shrugged. “I chose the safe option.”
“Only it turned out to be a whole lot riskier than starting your own company.”
“Who could have predicted that?”
“Did a lawyer look over the papers?”
“Absolutely. I’d never have done anything without one.”
“So what went wrong?” James couldn’t work it out. Beautiful Homes was a successful business with an established client base and an excellent name.
Liv dug her fork into the curry, but instead of eating, she swirled it around her plate. “She... She gambled it away. Every last cent.”
“Pardon?”
“Marion has a gambling problem. An addiction. She’d been…stable for a long time. Steered clear of tables for the last decade. And then, as she told me a few weeks ago, she had a moment of weakness—and won big.”
Jesus. Marion a gambler? Just went to show how you never knew what went on in another person’s life. “So she went back for more.”
Olivia nodded. “And more, and more, and more.”
“And it was all downhill from there?”
“More like a catastrophic landslide than downhill, but yeah. I found out that the money I invested went straight into her gambling debt fund—just like most of the company profits from the last six months. None of it went into the company. And now—” she waved her fork in the air, “—legal documents show I’m a twenty-five percent owner of Beautiful Homes, which means I owe all those creditors money we just don’t have.”
Christ, what a clusterfuck. “Nope, Liv. Those are her debts, not yours. You don’t owe
anyone anything.”
“Tell that to the wholesalers and retailers who won’t stop calling. Tell my clients who want to know what happened to the furniture they paid for that hasn’t been delivered.”
“You’re taking the fall for her addiction?”
She nodded.
His hands curled into fists. James didn’t believe in hitting a woman, ever, but right then he wouldn’t have minded a few minutes alone with Marion. Yeah, he wouldn’t lay a finger on her, but he’d take immense pleasure in scaring the crap out of her.
“I’m ruined, Jimmy. I’m broke and my professional reputation has been shredded.” Liv stared at her fork for a long time, then set it down and pushed her plate away.
“Have you spoken to Spencer about it?” If anyone could give Liv sage advice, it was him.
“A little. I’m meeting with him tomorrow, but for now all he knows is there’s no money left. I haven’t told him about Marion’s gambling problems. He was the one who suggested Marion lodge the petition.”
“He had no other advice?” Like suing the bitch.
“He mentioned finding an investor to either buy us out or offer a loan. But there isn’t a buyer alive who’d take on our debt, and only an idiot would loan a gambler money.”
James considered mentioning laying charges against Marion, but decided he’d wait for Spencer’s advice. James understood building. Spence understood money. Frustration and helplessness rolled in his gut. “Christ, Liv. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Stop referring people to Beautiful Homes. I know you’ve always done it to help us—”
“I refer clients to you—not Marion—because you’re good at what you do.”
“Thank you.” She nodded at the compliment. “But I have to turn clients away now. Refuse the work. And it’s humiliating, explaining that we’ve run into problems.”
“You have nothing to be humiliated about. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I made a bad decision. And I trusted a woman I shouldn’t have.”
“You’ve known her for six years. She’s never given you reason not to trust her before now.”
“I feel like the world’s biggest idiot.”
“You’re not. Not even close. You made a careful business decision based on your experience in the company and it backfired. That’s not your fault.”