by Hamel, B. B.
I wouldn’t live that down anytime soon.
“Rees,” Millie said after a block, the first word we’d spoken. I turned to face her and grabbed her shoulders, looking into her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded slowly. “You punched him.”
“He grabbed your ass.” I clenched my jaw, reliving the moment again, the way her face looked when he touched her, and the way his face looked from the floor.
“He told me that if I slept with him tonight, he’d write you a check for fifty million dollars.”
I tightened my grip on her arms then released her and turned away before she saw just how pissed I was. Not angry with Mirko, although that too—but mostly angry with myself. I knew this would happen, and I let it anyway.
“I’m glad I hit him then,” I said.
“He’s not going to invest now.”
I looked back at her and she tilted her head, staring at me, and something broke. I laughed, unable to help myself, a stupid, giddy laughter from my chest. Mirko was a piece of shit and deserved to get hit, and I didn’t want his money, not tainted by his stink. I could do better, and I would.
“No, he’s really not,” I said, grinning.
She didn’t seem to think it was funny, though. “What are we going to do?”
“I’ll figure it out.” I leaned my head back, craning my neck to look up at the buildings around us. “There’s more money somewhere.”
“Is that going to have repercussions?” she asked, and I knew what her tone meant. She was a clever girl, way too smart to be in this with me.
God damn, she must’ve really wanted to avoid taking the bar.
“It might,” I said, then shook my head and started walking again. “Come on, let’s go back to the room and get some sleep. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
She said nothing as we began to walk again. This whole trip was a disaster and might set me back professionally for years—but as I rubbed my knuckles, and felt the indent his teeth left in my skin, I had to admit that it might all be worth it, just to have the memory of Mirko’s shocked and hurt face in my head for the rest of my life.
5
Millie
We barely spoke in the morning. Rees collected our bags and brought them down to the lobby as he checked out. I lingered in a chair drinking coffee by the front desk, watching people come and go, wondering if any of them were at the club last night, and heard a rumor about Mirko getting punched in the face.
I kept coming back to that moment, again and again. Mirko’s hand on my ass, and my body refusing to move, terror keeping me pinned to the spot. I’d heard of the fight or flight or freeze response before, but I didn’t realize I’d turn into a shocked deer, unable to run away from danger.
Sometimes I thought of myself as a fighter. I’d overcome a lot in my life: grandmom raising me poor, putting myself through school, then again through law school, dealing with bullying when I was younger, and feeling like an imposter as I got older. I never fit in, especially not at UPenn, and maybe that was why I couldn’t seem to take the bar exam. I was stuck, and terrified I didn’t deserve anything.
Maybe my whole life was one big freeze.
I turned my head from where Rees stood nearby calling a car and saw a man step in through the doors. It took me a second, but I realized I recognized him. Slicked-back black hair, cheap suit, big gut: he’d been talking to Mirko at the club. I felt a sudden wave of discomfort and nausea come over me, and all I wanted to do was get out of there, but then the man’s gaze spotted me, and his face lit up with a smile.
He approached right away, hand shoved out toward me. “Hello, hello, I know you, just the woman I was hoping to find,” he said, talking fast. He had a slight Midwest accent, and a bit of scruff on his neck and cheeks. “My name’s Alfie Mackie, and yes, that’s my real name, and yes, my parents fucking hated me.”
I shook his hand as he laughed at his own joke, looking around for Rees, but he’d disappeared. “Uh, nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Millie Drake. Rees’s assistant.”
“I was there last night when your boss, or your boyfriend, or your both? Anyway, when Rees knocked out Mirko, and I got to say, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
“Uh,” I said, squirming in my chair. I didn’t think what happened was beautiful, but I was beginning to smile. His energy was infectious.
“I saw it all, you know? I saw the inappropriate touch, you know? His hand on your rear end? Typical Mirko, that sick skeeze, and I’m glad someone finally had the balls to knock some sense into him, that old pervert.”
“Thanks?” I said, not sure how to take it. If he’d seen Mirko touch me, and he didn’t step in, that meant he was sort of complicit, in some weird way.
“I know what you’re thinking. Alfie, how come you didn’t stop in and say something? What gives, Alfie? Truth is, Mirko’s big money, and I’m small money, you know what I mean? I step up to him, and I’m finished, done with. But Rees, well, he’s big money too. Big money can fight big money, and boy, did he.” Alfie laughed, booming and loud, head thrown back.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I can’t blame you.”
“Where’s Rees at, anyway? I wanted to talk to him about— Hey, there you are.” Alfie walked toward the door as Rees came back inside, looking confused, as a hand was thrust in his face. The men shook, and I stood up, joining them as Alfie gave Rees the same little speech he’d just given me—how excited he was to see someone finally knock sense into Mirko, all that crap.
“And I was hoping I could have a minute of your time,” Alfie finished, glancing toward me. “I know you were in town, pitching Mirko on some deal, and I thought, hey, I’m here for the same thing. Maybe we can help each other.”
“I don’t know about that,” Rees said. “We have a flight soon and the car’s waiting.”
“Make the car wait. Shit I’ll pay for it. Did I mention that I’m a bonds trader for Goldman? Come on, give me ten minutes.”
Rees’s face darkened and I couldn’t quite read it. I knew what a bond was of course—it was essentially debt in a company or a government that paid out a steady interest rate per year for a fixed amount of time—but I didn’t know what a guy working for a bank would want with us.
“Ten minutes,” Rees said.
Alfie laughed and we sat back down around a low coffee table tucked away in the corner of the lobby. People came and went, men in suits, women in dresses, and we were all but ignored, even though I felt incredibly conspicuous. Last night Rees punched a billionaire in the face, and now some random banker was talking about how much he loved it.
“Here’s the deal,” Alfie said, talking with his hands, throwing them around wildly. “I got a bonus this year, see, a nice fat bonus, and I need a place to park it. I hear you’re running a SPAC, and god damn if I don’t love a good SPAC. So I’m here to invest.”
That surprised Rees. He leaned forward, eyebrows knitting. “How much are we talking?”
“Five million,” Alfie said.
I felt my heart skip a beat. Five million wasn’t what Rees had wanted from this trip—but it was still a very solid investment. I had a hard time imagining this guy had that kind of money though, but Rees seemed to take him for his word, and tilted his head slightly to the side.
“But I’m guessing there are strings,” Rees said, his voice deadpan.
“Ah, come on,” Alfie said, laughing. “Strings, not really strings, more like, you know, a suggestion. Like a hint, you know?”
“Get to the point,” Rees said.
“Yeah, alright, alright, so here’s the thing. I invest my five million in your SPAC, and I want you to convince Fluke to do a deal with me. I just want to buy some bonds from her company, that’s all above-board. My bosses will flip shit if I can get old Lady Fluke to sell me some debt, you know?”
I frowned a little bit. I’d heard the name Lady Fluke before, but I couldn’t quite place it. Some part of my b
rain rang with alarm.
“No deal,” Rees said, shaking his head. “That’s absurd.”
“Come on, I know you know Fluke,” Alfie said.
Rees went to stand, but I reached out and touched his arm, making him hesitate. I wanted to know what was going on, and I didn’t want him to pass up on an easy fie million, not after I’d just potentially cost him more. I didn’t entirely blame myself—I mean, it wasn’t my fault Mirko was a scumbag—but I could’ve stayed behind at the hotel room and everything might’ve been fine. I owed it to him to try and hear Alfie out, at least.
“Who is Lady Fluke?” I asked.
“Lady Fluke is the owner of the Fluke Biscuit Company,” Rees said. “It’s the oldest and most prestigious British cookie company in the world.”
I laughed a little bit, but neither of the men seemed to think it was funny. Alfie had a serious expression, leaning forward on his elbows, almost pleading, and Reed looked a little pale.
“You’re joking?” I asked. “Cookies? Why do you want to buy bonds from a cookie company?”
“These aren’t just cookies,” Alfie said. “No way, no ma’am, they’re like mouth gold, edible bullion. Fluke’s company’s been profitable for the last two hundred years, and there’s never been an American bank that’s gotten a piece of them. She’s a real fucking nationalist.”
“It’s not realistic,” Rees said. “Fluke’s not even in America. She’s based in the UK and rarely leaves.”
“How do you now her?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“We met at a conference in London when I was young and getting started. I helped her company with their cloud services and hosted their website, and we sort of struck up a friendship.” He shook his head, glaring at Alfie. “A real friendship, one I’m not going to use for you.”
“Ah, come on,” Alfie said. “Look, Fluke’s in the US right now, doing some tour of a Nabisco plant. I think she wants to buy it, expand into the North American market some more, you know what I mean? Canadians love that shit? Anyway, she’s here, and since your’ besties…” He trailed off, holding his hands out, palm up.
Rees grimaced, looking uncomfortable. I didn’t know how he had a relationship with a British cookie heiress, but I got the sense that he genuinely liked her—or at least valued her friendship. Alfie, for his part, was a sleaze, but an honest one.
“She should’ve told me she was in the states,” Rees said, sounding slightly hurt, which surprised me.
“I’m sure she’s gonna. Come on, talk to her, get her to sell me some bonds. Doesn’t have to be a lot, just some. And I’ll give you five million.” Alfie was sweating, and I got the feeling he was desperate to make this happen. I could only imagine the sort of pressure men like him felt, working for massive multi-national banking conglomerates.
“I can’t convince her of anything,” Rees said. “Lady Fluke does whatever she wants.”
“Then talk to her at least. Here, I’ll write a check, right now. You can cash it tonight, and I’ll be invested, but please, promise me you’ll at least try. That’s all I’m asking. You can fuck me, if you want, but please take me out to dinner first.” He grinned stupidly, almost pathetically, and I felt bad for him suddenly.
“It can’t hurt,” I said, looking at Rees. “Maybe she’ll wat to invest too.”
He grimaced even more, like I’d stomped my heel down into his thigh. He was silent for a long moment, staring at the table, then at his hands, and finally he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a slow breath.
“Fine,” he said. “Write the check and I’ll try.”
“Perfect,” Alfie said, perking up instantly. He pulled a checkbook from his jacket pocket, like he was prepared for this exact moment. “Some bonds, not many, doesn’t have to be a lot, just some, just to get a foot in the door. You’re saving my life, Rees, I mean it, you literally are saving my fucking life.”
“Write the check,” Rees said again, rubbing his eyes.
Alfie wrote the check, ripped it out, and shoved it at Rees. He jumped to his feet and shuffling sideways, waving his hands as he went.
“You won’t regret it, really, it’ll be great, Goldman will be so happy, so happy, just thrilled, okay, thanks Rees, and Millie nice to meet you, okay.” Alfie got the hell out of there, practically running to the door.
I looked at Rees and shook my head, sort of mystified about what just happened, but elated as well. We turned what looked like a losing trip into something, pulled five million out of thin air.
Rees started at the check, and his face remained pale.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Lady Fluke hates me,” he said, slowly looking up at me, his face twisting into a confused smile. “Giana’s husband? That Italian parliament guy? He’s Lady Fluke’s second cousin.”
I covered my mouth and laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Rees grinned too and put the check into his pocket. What a stupid, absurd twist of fate. “Alfie doesn’t know?” I managed to ask.
“No,” he said. “Clearly not. It’s not exactly publicized. They’re both from old money families, and you know how Europe can be.” He cleared his throat and stood, looking a little unsteady. “Come on, we have a flight to catch, and I need to convince Fluke to have a chat.”
“You’re still going to try?” I asked, letting him lead me back outside to the sidewalk where the town car waited.
“I promised Alfie I would,” he said. “And I’ll keep my word. Even though I’m pretty sure Fluke’s going to rip out my guts and bake them for breakfast as soon as I show my face.”
I laced my arm through his and patted his shoulder with my other hand. “Don’t worry, that’s what I’m here for.”
He smiled slightly, but didn’t seem comforted, as we got into the car and headed back home.
6
Rees
Lady Fluke didn’t answer my calls.
I wasn’t surprised. After all, I allegedly had an affair with her second cousin’s wife, and that was not the sort of thing Lady Fluke could forgive. She was an old-fashioned woman, from the type of breeding that allowed for very little variation from the norm. Any hint of bad behavior, or suggestion of scandal, or whiff of some ugly hidden truth immediately turned her away. Once the rumors came out in the papers and online, I knew she’d cut me out of her life.
I didn’t want to screw Alfie. Although I’d never heard of him, I knew about his outfit by reputation, and they were considered the best of the best, somehow they created profit where none existed before and turned out obscene numbers. I wanted to be on his good side, and plus, he’d given me five million.
I was a man of my word, even if that was a difficult thing to be in this business.
The midafternoon sun reflected off the windows of the high rise across the street from my office. I squinted out at the sky and watched a spec slowly move across the clouds—some plane, headed for anywhere. Millie sat at a table nearby, going over financial documents related to the SPAC, although I had no clue why. I had other lawyers for that. She should’ve been studying for the damn bar.
“If Lady Fluke won’t talk to you, how are we supposed to convince her to sell Alfie some bonds?” she asked, sounding like she was bored, and that wasn’t an incredible loaded question.
“I don’t know,” I grumbled. “I guess that’s our problem to figure out.”
“Maybe if you didn’t screw around all the time, this wouldn’t have happened,” she said with an edge to her voice, like she cared what I did with my dick. Like she had any clue about me at all.
“You’re blaming the victim now,” I said. “Those rumors aren’t true.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Poor baby, what a victim. We’re sitting here in your gorgeous office, with all this expensive furniture, and I’m finding it really hard to feel bad for you.”
“Try harder then.” I leaned back, crossing my arms, and studied her. She seemed flustered and annoyed, and I thought back to that moment when my fist impacted
Mirko’s face, then the moment right after: the look in her eyes, the shock of the sudden violence, but the incredible, burning desire.
She liked it when I punched that old pervert in the face. She liked when a big, strong man came over and saved her. She’d deny it of course—she was too modern of that—but she loved the idea that I could beat the shit out of another person, all for her honor.
Some part of me liked it too. It was a dumb, brutish, annoying part of me, but still. I liked the idea of breaking that gross shit’s face for Millie, and I liked it even more that she wanted me for it.
I wanted to savage her. Take her here, on my table—throw the spreadsheets on the ground and close the blinds until her moans echo through my office.
“None of this changes the fact that Lady Fluke hates you now, and we need to talk to her,” Millie said, tapping her pen against her teeth. “There’s got to be a way you can prove that it’s not real.”
“I can get Giana to back me up,” I said, frowning slightly. “She doesn’t like the rumor any more than I do.”
“But she’d have every reason to lie about it,” Millie pointed out, which was a good point. Hard to believe Giana would be honest, even if she was. “What about her husband?”
“I hardly know him,” I said.
“But he might be willing to back us on this one. I doubt he wants this sort of scandal in the papers any more than you do. He’s a politician, right?”
I nodded, frowning a little bit, looking at my hands. She had a point, although politicians in Italy were quite different from politicians in America.
Because I could respond, there was a knock at the door, and Jack came in. His face was clouded by uncertainty as he glanced at Millie and nodded, then walked over to my desk, a tablet in his hands.
