Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“That was Saffron, said she won’t be in this evening.”
“Better get cover, then.”
“You’re seriously going to be like this? It’s a bit pissing childish.” I folded my arms.
“Filing cabinet in the corner. Top drawer. Find a replacement.”
“Jesus Christ, Andy.” The file was full of names I didn’t recognise. My stomach churned as reality struck. As if I could just walk back in like nothing had happened. Tears pricked. Stupid tears. I coughed them back before I returned to my seat, poring over names and photos and job titles until I found a potential. I lifted the handset, began to dial, but he reached over for the call end button before it connected.
“You can’t come back, Faye. Power share never works. I’m in charge here now.”
I slapped his fingers away. “We’ll have to make it work. I’m back in. Co-owner, just like the director’s agreement states.”
“I’ll buy you out. Give me a few weeks to get a valuation and the cash together.”
I don’t know why the thought hurt so bad. “I don’t want out.”
“It isn’t about what you want. You don’t even know this place anymore. You don’t belong here.”
“I’ll get to know.”
“So you can interfere like Lady fucking Wisdom? Trample over everything I’ve done?”
“So I can contribute.” I sighed. “Please stop, Andy. Just stop.”
He tapped a pen on the desk, over and over. That wasn’t new. He’d always done that when he was thinking, or twitchy. “You’ve got some fucking nerve waltzing back in here. Real fucking nerve.”
I was losing him and I knew it. “I just want to help, whatever it takes until we find our feet again.” I tried another smile. “I’ll work the bar, check in coats, whatever you want...”
“Whatever I fucking want?!” His pen bounced between my hands as he launched it. “I want you to fuck off. I want you to leave my fucking office and piss off back to whatever seedy fucking pussy den you crawled out of.” He took out his wallet as I stared, flicked through credit cards. “I’ll book you a fucking flight right now. My fucking treat, Faye, have it on me. Go fuck yourself.”
I grabbed the pen from the floor, slid it back in his direction as he clacked the keyboard with venom. “Don’t do this, Andy.”
“Tomorrow at nine. Destination Venice fucking Treviso, right?”
“Stop it...” Even the thought gave me the shivers.
“How many bags?”
Tears pricked again. I took a breath. “I didn’t want it to be like this.”
“Like what, exactly?” His eyes blazed so cold I had to look away. “You thought I’d be pleased to see you? After three fucking years? What kind of sappy fucking twat do you take me for?”
“I wanted it to be amicable, without lawyers…”
“Lawyers?! What the fuck do you think they’re going to do?!”
“They’ll confirm I’m a legal fucking partner. Co-owner. They’ll say I don’t need your fucking permission to work my own fucking bar, and you know it!” My breath was shallow, knuckles clenched to stop my hands shaking. “Just let me help out. Give me a chance. I’ll work the bar, for one week, nothing else, I promise.”
“Piss off.”
“Or we could try something else to resolve our differences… I guess the playrooms will be empty…”
The disgust on his face cut deep. “I’m really not that fucking cheap.”
“I didn’t mean it like that…”
“Leave, please. Just fucking leave before we both say things we regret.”
“No. You can bitch-whine all you fucking like, Andy, but I’m fucking staying!”
“Suit your-fucking-self, but I’ve just about seen enough of you.” He was at the door in a heartbeat, swinging it so wide it banged off the wall. “You can stay the fuck out of my office. Piss off, Faye, I mean it.”
I sighed. “I’ll be in the bar when you calm down, planning my show.”
“What fucking show?”
“I have ideas, Andy, things I learned in Venice. New things…You’ll see.”
He shot me a smile that didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes. “Just stay out of my fucking way.”
***
Chapter Two
Andy
Topaz’s ditzy little heels clacked into my office as soon as Faye was clear.
“Miss Devere’s in charge. All problems land at her feet.”
“But Mr Morgan...”
“The woman’s flighty and whimsical. Nothing more than a fucking nuisance. She’d never hack any actual responsibility. She’ll be bored within the week.”
She nodded. “So, I ask her for instruction on tonight’s set up?”
The prospect of Faye taking charge brought a bitter twang to the back of my throat. My resolve crumbled. “Put a couple of cocktails on offer. Garnet Crows and Screaming Orgasms. Two for one before midnight.”
Topaz smiled. “And what about the main stage? Just shackles?”
“Flogging bench from playroom three. Put it in the middle of the dancefloor.”
“Anything else? Or should I ask boss lady?”
Boss lady? I cringed at that. “Tell the DJs to keep the tempo up, try and keep the action going on the main stage. We’ll show Miss Devere just how big a beast she’s wrestling.”