Jump Start

by Karen Botha

  I reach into my pocket with my one spare hand and struggle to tap in the pin number onto the screen.

  The text is from Clifford, my lawyer. “Need to speak to you about the proposal you sent over. Call me.”

  I angle the phone until I can see the dial icon and then tap it without thinking. Big mistake. It’s not easy holding a business conversation while lugging a bag that does not want to be wheeled. I’m out of breath and sweat is starting to gather above my butt crack before Clifford has even answered the call.

  “Elliott, that was quick. Thanks, I know you’re traveling,” Clifford answers.

  “We just arrived, what can I do for you?” I’m eager to get on with this and not prolong my pain any more than necessary.

  Clifford tells me that he’s looked into Daisy’s proposal. “It’s an interesting concept, and it is legal, so from that perspective you’re in the clear.”

  “OK, so what is the other perspective?” I ask.

  “That it’s borderline. Yes, you'll be operating within the letter of the law, but it will be due to nothing more than a simple loophole. You need to think about any PR fallout if the press gets wind of your involvement. Particularly as you’re spearheading this whole responsible building lark while all the time investing in a portfolio which could be deemed ‘dubious’ shall we say.”

  “Dubious? Why so?”

  “Your cash will be washed Elliott. Albeit washed via a perfectly legal loophole, but you will still be borderline involved in money laundering.”

  “Oh...”

  “Yes, it’s a complicated chain, but when we followed the trail, that’s precisely what the investment portfolio will be doing. You’ll get the return on the property just as your friend has laid out, but after that, the business will wash and reinvest. You could well be linked.”

  “OK, so what you’re saying is that my part of the deal is totally legit, but there is a section that my money then goes into that isn’t.”

  “Precisely old boy. Well done, you’re catching on.”

  “Is there any way if this loophole as you say is picked up later that I could be implicated?”

  Clifford is quiet. “There’s no way to tell. Officially no, but you’ve seen these tax avoidance schemes where the authorities are holding celebrities up as examples. This is where the PR comes in. You need to take this seriously because there is no way of knowing exactly how this could play out.”

  “What are the chances of this coming to light?” I ask.

  “Nothing lasts forever Elliott, not even you and me.”

  “So, would your advice to me be to get in and get out fast and make a quick buck?”

  “I can’t give you that guidance, my friend. All I can say is that the less you participate, the less chance there is of you getting caught. But there’s still more probability than if you were not involved at all.”

  “Thanks for the call Clifford. Can I count on you to tie up the paperwork if I decide to go ahead?”

  “Of course you may. That is what I am here for.”

  I hang up, my thoughts away with Daisy and her borderline illegalities.

  “You’re not going to do it are you?” Kyle is staring at me, his brow furrowed.

  “Huh, did you hear?”

  “Yeah, I heard. Every word. Clifford thinks you should steer clear.”

  “He didn’t say that.”

  “Well he said the only way to avoid getting embroiled in some future negative and potentially dangerous ramification is if you don’t invest in Daisy’s scheme.”

  I’m really not sure that’s what he meant. Clifford was just giving me a full picture of the potential outcomes. There’s also a lot of benefits to my investing. Not only the financial return but also the publicity for the ethical building practices I've been championing.

  “If I get in and get out quickly, I’m not really sure how there can be a downside.”

  Kyle

  It’s hot outside, way warmer than we’ve been used to, but that’s not why my temperature has risen quite so rapidly. My blood is boiling. We’re at his camper and as Elliott opens the door with the key, I bite the thin layer of skin on the inside of my bottom lip, working out how best to deal with the impending situation.

  I knew that woman was trouble; her energy just radiates around her.

  But Elliott can’t see it.

  My temper is rising, like a glass of water being filled. It’s approaching the brim and as we step inside the privacy of Elliott’s camper, the water spills over and I open my mouth and the comments I’ve been bottling up spill out.

  “What are you thinking? Don’t you have enough money? Why do you need to invest in such a shady deal when you could land up in prison?”

  Elliott turns, the shock on his face evident. “Prison?”

  “Yes Elliott. If a proposal isn’t legal that’s what tends to happen to people.” I stretch out both arms. Why can’t he see this?

  “Clifford never mentioned jail. He said I needed to speak with my PR team. Which I will do. And then I’ll assess the risk to my reputation and to my bank balance. But, if the investment side is sound then I need to capitalize on these opportunities because I won’t be racing forever. Even if I am racing, I won’t be winning forever and so the pay checks will dwindle. It’s inevitable.”

  So, this is about the money. It has nothing to do with the charity work he’s been killing himself with. He wants to make a quick buck and his ethical building campaign is a convenient excuse.

  I shake my head. “Elliott, we don’t need the money. What you’ve got saved and invested so far is more than enough to pay for a comfortable life. You have houses we can sell if we need to. We have no use for such a large home. You said yourself; it was just an investment.”

  “Yes, and what’s wrong with having more? If we don’t need to downsize because I’ve invested well, surely there's no problem?”

  Oh dear. This is not a conversation we'll resolve today. It’s one of those rows that will go round in circles and escalate beyond what is sensible if we’re not careful.

  “Look, let’s just draw a line under this for now and we’ll discuss it later when we’ve both had time to think about it when we’re not so tired.” I approach him and wrap my hands round his waist from behind. Our bodies move as one, both our breathing at a simultaneous increased speed. But where normally when we connect our physiques melt into one, this time, there’s an invisible barrier between us. It breaks our connection. The warm feelings I’m so used to when we’re close are missing and it’s as though my arms are wrapped around one of the trees we walked past to get to his camper.

  He’s cold and distant, so I decide to give him some space, see if he can’t relocate our usual intimacy. “I’m going to head back to my quarters. I need to sleep.”

  I let my arms fall to my side, but he doesn’t turn like he normally would. I wait a heartbeat, allowing him more time, willing him to turn.

  He only twists on the spot when he hears my hand click on the lever of the exit. “I know you don’t like Daisy, Kyle, but business is different. Any personal feelings you have for her need to be pushed aside.”

  I fling the door open and bounce down the steps before I scream in his face. That won’t help anything. But he’s so off point. He’s right in that I don’t like the woman nor her proposal. But unlike Elliott, I can’t separate my personal and business lives. If Elliott gets locked up because of money laundering then that affects my personal life. They are not individual entities.

  Elliott

  I should be getting a few hours’ sleep while everyone else is settling in so that I’m sharp when it comes to track testing. We have relatively few laps from which to gather our data, so me being tip top is imperative.

  Sleep isn’t going to come after that blow up, though.

  I just don’t get why he doesn’t like Daisy. I thought they were making progress when we went to lunch, but it appears not.

  It never struck me that Kyle can be jeal
ous.

  Anyway, I toss and I turn and I toss some more. I’m frustrated, but even tugging on my half limp dick isn’t helping bring about some shut eye.

  In the end, I flounce out of bed, pull on my shorts and jog off into the woods to burn off some irritation. It won’t help me sleep but it may help to clear my brain.

  I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and try to hold all other thoughts at bay. But it’s difficult. My mind keeps flitting back to that deal. The potential return is huge.

  I’m not a greedy man. The money I’ve earned has been luck. Not because I’ve not worked hard, I don’t mean that, but because it was a pure fluke that I chose a profession which paid so well. Lucky because I fell in love with a well-paying job.

  But, I’m at the top of my game. Since Kyle and I have settled down, it worries me that our money and lifestyle won’t last if I don’t make some sound investments with my current disposable income. I’m never going to be in a better place to secure our future stability.

  And this is why I’m more inclined to take the PR risk. If my career only has a few strong years left, any loss of my credibility in the press will be less impactful than it would be today. What is absolutely crucial is that I don’t blow all the cash I have now, because if I do, I’ll screw up the rest of my financial security. The rest of our financial security. I have two people to think about now and possibly a kid at some point in the future, too.

  It’s understandable that Kyle is skeptical. He doesn’t know Daisy like I do. Yes, she sails close to the wind, but she’s done well for herself and I don’t see why she would risk her freedom. After all, Clifford pointed out that the real dodgy stuff is what she’s doing with the money after my involvement has ceased, so she’s taking a bigger risk than I am. I just don’t see her doing that if the liabilities were too great.

  I need to clear my head in order to give my all to testing so as I run back to my trailer, I make my decision. I’ll call Daisy and tell her I’m in.

  Eliott

  Testing is all over social media and the word on the street is that I’m set up to win the championship again. To be fair, our car did outperform the rest, but not by the wide margin the press would have the public believe. There’s also still way too much time before the start of the season for our competitors to play catch up.

  However, on the upside, I am all over the media. My profile rating is the highest it has ever been and requests for me to make audience appearances are sky rocketing. If I capitalize on the next few weeks before the start of the racing period, I should be able to earn enough to cover Daisy’s proposal.

  I’m riding high, but I should have known better than to believe my own hype.

  “Elliott, have you seen this?” We’re propped up in bed, checking our phones before we start our day and Kyle sounds less relaxed than he was thirty seconds before.

  “Huh?” I reach for the screen Kyle has angled toward me. “What’s this?”

  Instead of answering me, Kyle waits for me to absorb the video.

  “Shit! I’d better phone Jessie.”

  Kyle nods. He’s sitting more upright now. “He must have forwarded the footage on before we got hold of his phone.”

  “Fuck.” I ball my fists and hit them against my head. “I thought this was dealt with.”

  “Clearly, fucking not.”

  I make the call, ready to fess up to Jessie, but she’s already seen the home movie of Kyle and me in the toilet.

  “It’s not ideal Elliott. Your popularity rating has plummeted overnight. But, at least it's your partner you've been caught with. There's always a bright side.”

  “He disappeared; I hoped we’d heard the last of this,” I repeat my thought from earlier.

  “Yeah, but these types are slime balls. They wait in the wings until you’re top of the media popularity polls and then hit you when it hurts the most.”

  “What are my options?” I ask, placing her on loudspeaker so Kyle can also hear.

  “You don’t have many. You can hide, or come out fighting. Be seen with Kyle and we’ll release statements that you’re in love lalala and try to turn this around. But, you know the act of shagging in a bathroom is illegal in the UK even if it is with your partner. It doesn’t look great.”

  I turn to Kyle. “What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know. Do I need to decide now?” Kyle asks.

  “Ideally, yes, we have to stamp this coverage out ASAP,” Jessie replies.

  There’s a moment of hesitation where we both consider our options. “I don’t think we’ve done anything wrong,” I say in the end. “Let’s face it, we’re both consenting adults, we live together, and we’re in love. It could be a lot worse. I don’t mind coming out fighting.”

  “But, if we do that, you’ll have to answer for your illegal actions,” Jessie warns.

  “This is why it’s always good to keep your nose clean, Elliott. I’m so pleased you didn’t go ahead with Daisy’s investment. Imagine how this would look then.”

  The bottom falls out of my stomach and sweat that wasn’t there a second ago now prickles between my shoulder blades. I pull at my collar as the room closes in on me.

  I’ve not gotten around to telling him yet that I said yes to Daisy. It hasn't been the right time. We’ve just been so busy with work, and his shift patterns have been all over the place,. It’s just not been convenient.

  Kyle

  “What is it?” I ask. Elliott has not only fallen quiet, but his flushed face warns me before he confirms my worst fears. “What have you done Elliot?” My voice is harsh, my words clipped. My throat constricts as my spine straightens, preparing me for his reply.

  “We’ll call you back, Jessie,” he says and now I’m certain.

  “You invested didn’t you? You went ahead and put money into that deal without telling me?”

  “It just wasn’t the right time...” he starts.

  “You fucking imbecile.” Rage catches me such that I can no longer lie in bed next to him. I jump out, my sex tackle swinging from the vigor of movement and bend over the mattress toward him. I’m so angry, every muscle in my body tenses as I scream at him. “You invested without speaking with me and then didn’t even have the guts to tell me. What is it, did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

  Elliott leans forward, but his voice is gentle. “It’s not like that. It just wasn’t the right time. I needed to make a decision, and we didn’t see each other because of our shift patterns and then since, we’ve just not had the time.”

  “Oh, we’ve had time. You could have spoken to me about this if you thought you were going to get the answer you wanted to hear. You chose not to, Elliott.” He does at least have the sense to look sorry. His pale complexion has grown pink and I feel some kind of satisfaction that he is shitting himself.

  Serves him right.

  We stare at each other, neither one of us quite knowing how best to move forward without this argument escalating into an almighty fucking row. Instead of risking speaking words I’ll regret, I stalk around the bed with my heart racing. My fingers shake as I search my closet for my favorite lounging shorts. I march toward the door, wanting to scream at him, but having so many words crashing around my brain I can't formulate a sentence.

  He doesn't speak either, but instead watches my actions from his place in our bed. I’m not planning on saying anything, intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible. But without me realizing it, words spill from my mouth as I reach the doorway.

  “It’s not about the money Elliott. This is about you not ending up in prison, or in the middle of some sensational media storm over which you have no control. I don’t want to lose you and that means you have to curb your natural instinct to take risks. You need to consider me and our life together now.” The words aren’t angry, they’re heartfelt, but they’re like tinder.

  “What the fuck do you think I was doing?”

  “Huh?”

  “I was trying to
protect what we have. You want a kid. I need to support a lifestyle that makes that possible.”

  “By ending up in prison? How does that work?”

  “I won’t end up in prison. You’re so dramatic.” He throws his hands in the air and flounces off toward his bathroom. The stone walls of the solid house shake with the force of him slamming the door.

  The bolt clicks and I walk back into the room, slumping down on the edge of the mattress.

  Bloody stupid Daisy.

  Elliott

  He’s still here when I get out of the shower, sitting on the end of the bed with his hands crossed neatly in his lap. He doesn't register my movement as I walk across our plush carpet. Instead, he's staring into space. So much for him getting breakfast.

  “What?” I ask, succumbing to the need to get my frustration out in the open. I have my own money that I can invest as I choose. What does it have to do with him? He's my partner, not my bloody financial advisor. I have professionals for that.

  “We need to sort this out. We have to get back to Jessie with a direction on how she should handle this fucking disaster,” he replies.

  “I’ll see her when I get to the factory,” I say, trying my best to take back control.

  “No, Elliott, you won’t. This affects both of us and we will discuss it and decide together what is best. You will not run off and make your own decisions which leave me to pick up the pieces later.”

  "What pieces do you have to pick up?"

  "Well none yet, but there could be and I should be involved in the process of deciding the actions we take if there is a chance."

  He's not making much sense, but instead of raging at him and saying things he'll take the wrong way and probably never forgive me for, I sit down next to him on the edge of the bed. The mattress folds tipping him over so the sides of our bodies brush against each other. A shiver of inappropriate anticipation rushes through me. I push it to one side; now is not the time for any of those kinds of shenanigans.