Game of Love: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Lulu Pratt

  “I’m worried about her,” she said. “She looks tired.”

  “We are all tired,” I said. “But I will talk to her, make sure she is okay.”

  And so I had, but Beatrix insisted she was fine, she said that things with her and Stan were better than ever, and even though she was busier, she was actually less stressed now that we had a plan. I felt the same. It was only at night, lying in my old bedroom with the faded paint outlining where my old posters had once been, that I allowed myself to think and feel. I couldn’t help wondering where Keegan was, what was happening. For all I knew, he could have been arrested by now. I spent hours lying in the dark trying to weigh up the evidence. Everything suggested that he had been involved. It was what the lawyers thought, it was what my family thought, and according to Taylor, it was what everyone at Clover House thought.

  One by one, each department had had a meeting with Sean and someone from Human Resources. He had reassured them that everything was under control, and that some of the rumors going around were true. Keegan would no longer be at Clover House, and anyone who felt they wanted to discuss any of the issues raised was very welcome to do so. In short, he was throwing Keegan under the bus and making sure that anyone who felt like doing the same thing would have a willing ear.

  “You know how it is in this industry,” Taylor had said. “People will swear black is white if they think it might get them one step ahead of the guy next to them.”

  “And no one has seen Keegan?” I asked.

  “Nope,” she said. “But Sean said that apparently he didn’t deny any of it. He isn’t going to come right out and say it, but he has literally no defense.”

  She had tried to talk me into a night out, but there was just no way I was up for it. Even if I had time or money, I just didn’t feel like being social. Drew had asked me a few times if I felt like grabbing a drink after we had finished work, but there was always something holding me back. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea; neither of us needed the confusion. And I knew that the way I had been feeling was likely to lead to poor decision making.

  I couldn’t explain it to anyone, even if I had wanted to, but since those few nights spent with Keegan, I felt different. About lots of things, but mostly about sex. Before him, I hadn’t thought of myself as a particularly sexual person. I wanted to have a connection with someone, and if sex came along with that, then that would be good, but it was never my primary motivation. It still wasn’t, but sleeping with Keegan had stirred something up inside me that I didn’t know was there. I felt somehow more aware of myself as a sexual being. More powerful. And I wanted more. Most of the time I hated the thought of Keegan, the deceptiveness of him, how he had just dismissed me like I was a piece of crap, but what I wouldn’t give to have one more night with him. Even when they talked about him at work, I felt myself become aroused. And then one night when Drew had been working late, I watched him stretch up to reach for a file from the bookcase, and the shape of him had made me wonder what it would have been like if we had ever actually made it to sex. I physically shook my head to dislodge the thought. What was wrong with me? That was the absolute last thing I wanted. And so, I avoided nights out with Taylor, and nights in with Drew, because I simply didn’t trust myself to make good choices right now.

  Drew was clearly deeply offended by my refusal to spend time with him, and there were only so many excuses I could come up with since I basically spent all my time at my parents’ place. So, on Sunday when my mom had found the bag he had left behind the night before and asked me to drop it off as I was heading in his direction to pick up some groceries, I decided to act like an adult, and I picked up a pizza on the way. He was expecting me, but not the pizza.

  “Can I come in?” I asked when he opened the door.

  “Sure,” he looked surprised.

  “I’m going stir crazy at my parents’ place. And my mom doesn’t believe in fast food, so it’s been ages since I had a decent pizza. Her homemade just doesn’t cut it, and she loves pineapple!” I said, trying to sound uber-casual.

  He led the way into his main room, which had a kitchen area against one wall.

  “Grab a seat,” he said, getting out some plates and glasses and a couple of beers from the fridge.

  I sat down and looked around, pointing to some framed prints on the wall. “I love this artwork, is it new?”

  “Yeah,” he said, joining me. “A friend of mine makes these prints and sells them in the art market. You should come along sometime.”

  “I’d like that,” I said, helping myself to pizza. “Can I see?” I gestured to the couple of frames sitting on the side that he hadn’t put up yet.

  “Sure,” he smiled, and I got up to go look, but he was suddenly standing up and racing to the side where he cleared away a stack of paperwork, scooping it up and shoving it into a drawer. “Sorry about the mess, I didn’t expect you to come in…”

  “It’s okay,” I said, looking at the prints. “I love these. You have to give me his name.”

  “It’s actually a her. I’ll send you a link to her website,” he nodded. “Are you drawing much at the minute?”

  “No, not at all,” I said. “Just too busy with work and everything. I got some good photographs in Dublin, I was planning to do something with those but…” I tailed off.

  “How was Dublin?” he asked. “I feel like with everything that happened we sort of forgot that you had this amazing experience.”

  “It was incredible,” I said, glad that someone was interested at least. “It’s just such a beautiful country, and the city is so vibrant. I just wish I’d had longer to explore.”

  “And it’s a shame about the company, right?” he smiled.

  “Well, yeah,” I nodded and took a sip of beer and raised my eyebrows. “There is that.” If only he knew, I thought.

  “Probably best not to put it in the online review… ‘Fab city, despite the embezzling drug addict tour guide…’” he laughed.

  I paused and looked at him as he chuckled at his joke and took another slice of pizza. “Drug addict?” I asked.

  He blushed. “Yeah, didn’t you say he had some kind of drug past?”

  “I said there were rumors of a criminal past,” I said slowly. “And embezzlement? Where did you get that from?”

  “I think, uh, Beatrix let something slip about that,” he said apologetically.

  “Ah,” I nodded. I didn’t want him to see it, but suddenly my stomach was churning with nerves. Something wasn’t right here. I got up and wandered over to look at the art prints again. There was a dirty cup and plate sitting beside them, and a couple of food wrappers. Why leave those and hide the paperwork if he was worried about me seeing his mess? I quickly pulled out the drawer that he had shoved the papers into and riffled through.

  “Freya?” he stood up. “What the fuck–”

  “What the fuck indeed?” I said, holding up a yellow envelope, identical to the one I had found under my door with my name on it. Only this one was in his own handwriting, and he had scribbled a line through it.

  I didn’t wait for an explanation. He muttered a list of excuses. It was money to help with my travel plans. It was money he won. It was so that I wouldn’t need to go to Clover House anymore. It was a gift. It was for me to give to Dynasty Games because he knew they wouldn’t accept it from him. Any one of the excuses might have been plausible, but a whole contradictory list of them? I didn’t answer. I walked right out, leaving my groceries sitting on his floor.

  I went straight to Beatrix’s, texting her on the way and then letting myself in through the back door as I always did. I called her name and she called for me to come upstairs. I found her in bed, even though it was barely eight.

  “Beatrix, this is important. Have you ever talked to Drew about Keegan being investigated for embezzlement?”

  “What? No, we agreed not to. Too much else going on without that as well. The lawyers haven’t even mentioned it yet,” she said, shivering slight
ly.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, moving closer to the bed. “Where is Stan?”

  “Working nights,” she grimaced. “And to be honest, no, I think I’m coming down with something.”

  I went to her and felt her forehead. She was burning up.

  “You have a fever!” I said, pulling the duvet off her and pouring her a glass of water from the bathroom. “How long have you been like this?”

  “I don’t know, a few hours?” she said, and clutched her tummy. “I think I have a stomach flu; you should stay away.”

  “This isn’t like stomach flu,” I said, watching her as she began to shake more violently.

  “I feel really strange,” she said. It was as if she zoned out a little, and I thought she was going to faint or fall asleep.

  “All right, let’s get some clothes on. We are going to get you checked out.”

  The trip to the hospital seemed to take ages, with traffic heavy on the road and Beatrix drifting in and out of sleep. When we got there, I was relieved to find the emergency department relatively quiet, and the triage nurse seemed to share my concern. Still, the wait was long, and I paced the floor as she dozed on a gurney, murmuring in her sleep. Doctors came and went and took samples of blood and urine, reassuring me that it seemed like some kind of infection and that once they had figured out where, they would come back to us. An hour later, they hooked her up to an IV drip with some fluids and antibiotics. The doctor tried to rouse her, but they weren’t getting anything sensible from her and decided to let her rest.

  “She has a mild kidney infection,” the doctor told me. “It should respond quite quickly to antibiotics, but of course, these things can become worse more quickly during pregnancy, so we think it’s best to administer the meds via IV overnight. Do you have an overnight bag for her?”

  “Pregnancy?” I repeated. “My sister isn’t pregnant.”

  The doctor stared at me. “She is, but it isn’t on her notes. Do you mean that she doesn’t know?”

  “I don’t know – I don’t think so,” I said, rambling. “I mean, they wanted to start a family, but they were postponing it… I think she would have told me…”

  “Okay, what we will do is talk to her when she is more lucid – the fluids will help with that – and maybe get a scan done so that we can see what’s going on, okay?” she disappeared and I went back in to see Beatrix, who had her eyes open and was staring at me.

  “Is it me?” she asked in a small voice. “Am I pregnant?”

  I put my arms around her and rubbed her back. “Let’s see what the doctor says when she comes back, all right?”

  It was another couple of hours before we were whisked away to a scan room, and a combination of painkillers, fever meds, and fluids had helped ease the fever, so Beatrix was at least aware of what was going on. I waited outside while they got her ready and then they called me in. I had been trying to get hold of Stan since we had arrived, but with no luck. It felt wrong that he wasn’t here. I held her hand as our eyes adjusted to the dark and we watched the pattern of gray shapes across the screen.

  “Okay, so there’s baby,” the sonographer said, pointing to a flashing blob on the center of the screen. “Little heart beating away.”

  “Oh my god,” cried Beatrix, tears flowing down her face. “Oh my god!”

  “Little legs wriggling, and just up here, arms, and let’s see if we can get a better angle and see the face…” she rearranged Beatrix’s belly in a way that made me wince, and Beatrix gasped at the image on the screen. It was, faintly, the outline of a face.

  “I thought I was just fat!” Beatrix cried. “I took a test, it was negative. They are always negative!”

  “Well, there is nothing negative on this screen,” the sonographer beamed. “Everything looks fine!”

  “It’s amazing,” I breathed. “It looks so clear…”

  “Well, baby is measuring at just under ten weeks…” she added.

  “Ten weeks!” we exclaimed in unison, and the sonographer laughed. She printed off some pictures and turned the lights on, and the nurse who popped her head in said they were ready to take Beatrix up to the ward where she could stay until she had had more fluid and antibiotics.

  We sat and stared at the pictures, alternating between tears and laughter, and I didn’t leave until Stan arrived and I had seen the look on his face change from concern to relief to shock and delirious happiness as she told him all that had happened since we had arrived. He hugged me and thanked me for being there with her, and we all cried and laughed some more, and then I left them holding one another tightly.

  In the course of just a few hours, their world had completely changed, and my fury with Drew had been completely overshadowed and seemed pointless in comparison. I took a cab to my parents’ place and arrived to find my parents with an open bottle of wine, toasting the happy news, having just got off the phone with Stan. I drank a glass with them and excused myself, feigning exhaustion. As I lay on the top of my bed, my mind raced. I had to know the truth, but first, I had to know what Drew was hiding.

  I called him. I didn’t even know what I was going to say, but I knew I needed to do to him what the cops had done to me. I had to scare him into telling me what he knew if he knew anything. I had to completely overdo it, scare the shit out of him and hope that he would talk.

  “Hello? Freya?” he sounded relieved. Not for long, I thought.

  “Drew,” I said, careful not to give anything away by my tone. “I know everything.”

  “What? What do you know?” he asked.

  “I know about the money,” I said, hoping this was vague enough to hit the mark.

  He sighed. “Freya, I made a mistake.”

  “Yeah?” I asked, and then waited, giving him some space, and hoping he would fill it.

  “I knew you would give it to Dynasty Games, I wanted to help, I felt so bad…”

  “I know everything,” I repeated, willing him to go further. I needed detail.

  “How?” he asked, and I tried to figure out how I could get him to tell me something – anything – I didn’t already know.

  “How do you think?” I bluffed. “Anyway, I want you to know I’m going to the police.”

  “The police?” he sounded panicked, and I felt a surge of guilt for doing this to him. “Please, Freya, I can explain. I did it for the money, for the college course in California, but he promised me it wasn’t going to be like this. He told me it was so they could target a different demographic, I had no idea they would completely rip off the game like that…”

  “Who? Who promised you?” I was sitting up now, and I felt physically sick.

  “Keegan Callahan.”

  “No,” I said, as though I could make it not true by simply denying it firmly enough. “Okay, Drew, here’s what’s going to happen, you are going to tell me every little detail of every single conversation, every email, every small disgusting detail that you can remember. And I will think about whether I am going to the police.”

  “Understood,” he said.

  “Start from the beginning,” I said.

  He told me how someone had approached him to share inside information on Dynasty Games’ new project – the social media account had been sharing hints for months about something new. He had refused, and they had offered him more and more money until he had agreed. They told him that they simply didn’t want to put out anything in competition with whatever the big new game was; if they knew what was coming, they could focus on other things, and it would be best for both of them. And Drew believed them. So, he gave them the information, took the money, and then four months later when they released Cre8ure, he had been almost as shocked as the rest of us. I was furious that he could be so gullible, so naïve as to put us at risk like that, but I swallowed my words and let him continue. He told me that he had let Keegan know that I was working there as an intern almost as soon as he found out, which meant Keegan had known long before the trip to Ireland and everything tha
t had happened there. I felt dirty thinking about it.

  “You don’t know what it’s been like, knowing that this had all been my fault, and working with your parents… and then he asked me to come do other jobs for him…” Drew was saying, pleadingly.

  “Am I supposed to pity you?” I found myself laughing scornfully at this.

  “No!” he cried. “But please try to understand. He told me things, things I didn’t want to know… when you were in Dublin.”

  “What kind of things?” I asked, freezing suddenly, imagining the kinds of things he might have told him about Dublin.

  “He is involved in something worse. The lawyers are right. I think he is stealing money. He practically admitted it on the phone.”

  “Why would he admit this to you?” I asked. This made no sense.

  “Look, I know you can never forgive this, but I made one mistake and he won’t let me forget it. He has threatened to go to the police and make shit up about me. I’ve never even met the guy, and every time my phone rings I am terrified it’s going to be him with some new offer. He wanted me to join his team, to hack his own security system and edit his own accounts, for fuck’s sake. The guy is insane,” he said.

  I froze. This was important, but I couldn’t quite piece it all together yet. “You’ve never met him, face to face?” I asked. “What does he sound like, on the phone?”

  “I don’t know. Just a normal guy, why?”

  “Does he have an accent?” I demanded.

  “It was always windy wherever he was calling from, but he had no trace of an accent.”

  Chapter 41

  KEEGAN

  “I NEED TO KNOW where I stand!” I said, exasperated. I’d been on the phone with the lawyer for twenty minutes and I had still not had any solid answers from him.

  “And I wish I could help, but the fact is that the figures don’t add up. If you didn’t do it, who did?”

  “Isn’t that for the investigators to work out?” I said, half tempted to blame Sean, but with a doubt in the back of my mind that Freya was in on it too.