by Sara Forbes
I settle back down at the Bitcoin-US Dollar exchange and take a deep breath. Even with him looking over my shoulder I feel weirdly at home here. It’s my lifeblood, taking an educated guess, gambling on what people are going to do next based on their patterns of behavior in the past. Using intuition to predict the shape of a curve, the weakness of a hand. It’s exactly the kind of career that school doesn’t prepare you for, that school doesn’t even want you to know about, but that offers people like me a way to survive in the world.
I set up a few trades, tweak them, erase one, and let those babies run. The market is less volatile right now so I only get him 254 dollars but at least I didn’t lose anything.
“You’ve done this before,” Paul remarks.
“Nope.”
“Beginner’s luck?”
“Intuition.”
I must have passed his second test because at a certain point, way into the night for him, but my normal bedtime LA time, he stretches and hands me a cola from his fridge.
I shake my head and reach into my backpack and pull out a cool six-pack of German Pilsener. The way his dark eyes light up in his pale face is worth the whole trip here. “You are fucking kidding me. Do you know how hard it is to get alcohol here?”
Pleased that I’ve passed any further tests with flying colors, I follow him to the sofa where we stretch our legs out and pop open a can each. Then he says “Look, Egan means well. He threw you out because he can’t have anyone around who’s not committed. He gets like that.”
“Committed to blindly following him? I’m sorry, I just can’t do it.”
“I hear you, man.” He takes a slug of his beer and closes his eyes in some kind of ecstasy.
I have a thousand things I want to ask him about living out here but I need to focus on the reason I came. “I need to know it’s not going to end up with Jack getting caught up in something criminal, evil, or plain exploitative.”
Paul lazily opens his eyes. “Yeah. I suppose you do.”
“Well, can you help? Can you shut him down if that happens?”
He sighs, long and troubled. “I can’t do that, you know I can’t, but I can always carve out your percentage of the holdings if you can convince me that people are being screwed over. It may be enough to rectify any drastic moves he makes, but again, only if you can prove to me that he’s doing something ethically wrong. And I want you to know my standards are pretty low.”
“That’s fine.”
“And another condition.” He points between him and me. “This little meeting here never happened.”
***
I’m smiling next day as I cross the beautiful, dark-earthy purple-flowered countryside all the way back to Reykjavik and on the flight to LAX. The last twenty-four hours were surreal. I have no idea a why a genius like Paul is sequestered alone with a cat and a billion Gigawatts of power in that little Hobbit shire and I’ve no idea why he’s so scared of Egan but I have him on my side.
And I feel a whole lot more confident. For once, I’m watching out for Jack. He doesn’t have to know about it. It’s better he doesn’t. And the best thing? I can look Cara in the face again, and not feel ashamed of myself.
23
CARA
IT’S COLLEGE TERM HOLIDAYS and my sister Laila’s in town, killing a week of her six weeks of freedom and saving money by camping with me. The noise level in the apartment has increased tenfold. If she’s not shouting over the noise of the shower or the washing machine that she keeps running for mysterious reasons then she’s watching Tv on full blast or calling her friends, of which she has an alarming number.
It’s been four weeks since I had that argument with Felix and it seems like it’s really over. Every day widens the gap between us and the hurt increases. I shouldn’t have asked him to choose between me and his brother because that, ultimately, is what I was asking him to do. I was so angry about Mrs. Davis’s suicide and now that I know it wasn’t real, I feel like I got mad for nothing. I don’t know who or what to trust anymore, so I’ve gone back to my roots: my family.
I contacted Laila and asked her to come visit if she liked. I expected her to offer some excuse about being busy but she said she had a mid-term break and would love to come.
So, I’m trying to be a good big sis here. And the place definitely has more life with her around. I keep telling myself it’s just for a week. Laila gets constant visitors, mainly of the male variety, usually starting early evening. They’re a motley crew of hipster artists, journalists and philosophy types. They regard me as a strange, philistine lady-cop kind of figure. I think Laila’s spun some yarns about me killing people with my bare hands so they tip-toe around me, speaking politely. I kind of like it.
I’m just settling down with my noodles and veg when the bell goes. “Laila,” I yell over the sound of the TV. “It’s one of your suitors.”
“Um, nooo, I’m not dressed. You get it please, hun?”
“Okay,” I growl. “But this is the last time.”
I swing the door open. My eyes travel up the tall, sculpted and very beautiful body filling out the blue jeans and crisp white T. So simple, so classic and so unlike Laila’s suitors. The face is that of a slightly bearded Felix Palmer. Nobody else in the world rocks a body like this.
“Whoa.” I step back. My first stupid, panicked reaction is oh no, is he dating my sister!?
But then he speaks. “Cara.” The two impassioned syllables tell me he’s not here to see my sister.
“Who is it?” Laila screeches from the bathroom.
“No-one,” I yell back. “get back in the bathroom and dry yourself off.”
His eyebrows rise. “Company?” he asks.
“My sister. Tell you what,” I grab my key from the hook beside the door. “I’ll come with you.”
This is terribly rude of me, not inviting him in, but he’s caught me off guard and he’s breaking the unwritten rules of relationship by showing up. I thought I’d never see him again I’ve mourned the loss of him in my life.
We descend in the elevator and it’s the longest ride of my life. We don’t touch. We hug our respective walls glancing alternately at each other. My eyes drink him in greedily, all the memories crashing back.
I feel he wants to say something but keeps stopping himself. But once we start to walk along the pavement, his tongue loosens. “I know what you’re thinking and I’m sorry coming to you like this. I have no right. I’m not looking for anything.”
My stomach sinks in disappointment. Until this moment, I didn’t even know how much hope I’d been harboring that he was looking for something.
“Why are you here then?” I ask stiffly.
He stops mid-stride. “I’ll explain everything.” The sunlight filtering through the leaves catches his eyes, turning them bright sapphires. His scent and his heat waft all around me. I’m in grave danger of saying yes to anything just to have him back in my life.
But I can’t go through a breakup like that again. It would kill me. I gather my strength. “Felix, you should go home.”
“I’m sure I should be here. And you will be too once you hear me out.”
“Okay. I’m listening.”
“I found them. The Bitcoin billionaires. Or rather the guy who does all the transactions, all the trading. The genius.
I went to talk to him. To tell him what’s been happening on the ground, the people’s he’s hurt.”
“Felix.” I put my hand out to touch his forearm. It’s an automatic gesture that I haven’t been able to switch off. I retract it quickly. “Before you go on, there’s something you need to know about Goodman. He’s not who you think he is. He lied about the suicide.”
“What?”
“Yeah. It was all a big fat lie. Mariella Davis didn’t commit suicide—she died of cancer. Goodman just made that up to make me hate the Bitcoin Billionaires. Yes, old Goodman is a bit of a whale himself, owning a stockpile of coin. He’s been after your Bitcoin whales for some time, desperate t
o own more than they do. Between them, they account for much of the price volatility. I’m not the first investigator to get trapped in their game and all others ended up burning out, same as me. It’s a nasty mess.”
“The scumbag.” Felix’s jaw is clenched. “He actually wanted you to believe his client had committed suicide? He wanted you to be wracked with guilt? So, you’d help him take the competition down? That’s just so, so, so…low.”
“Yes, he was a family friend, and I trusted him. I got so, so upset that day. But it was wrong for me to make you choose between doing what I wanted and your brother. Ultimatums shouldn’t belong in relationships, period. I don’t blame you for running away. And…I know you’re a good person who’s just trying to do the right thing up against powers you’re powerless to fight.”
He steps forward. “Not completely powerless. Not anymore. I’m not taking anything lying down. I blame myself for running away when you needed me most. Please forgive me.”
“It’s been very hard,” I say. “But I can see now that it wasn’t as black and white as I had it in my head. I mean, I still don’t much like your Bitcoin Billionaires, but I haven’t been fighting on the right side either.”
“Join my side then,” he says. “I’m neutral, like Switzerland. I’ve discovered a weakness in the Bitcoin Billionaire, a safety valve, that could come in handy if they ever get ahead of themselves.”
“Oh, that point has already passed.”
“I know,” he says. “but I’ll be a watchdog as far as they’re concerned.”
“That does makes me feel better,” I say, slowly. It’s hard to believe though that he has no affiliation with them and that the safety net still doesn’t factor into his world-view somehow. But if he really has found a weakness, it shows he’s dedicated to being independent of them, no matter what his brother is doing. And it can’t be easy for him. I know how close he is to his brother.
“Good. I like making you feel better.” Felix says.
“I know,” I say.
“Oh yes. So, can you bear to have this gambling man back in your life? Can you forgive me for ever having got mixed up with the Billionaires and not being on your side when it was so important? Can you forgive me for crashing a car with you in it? Can you forgive me for being an all-round idiot much of the time, and not the reliable partner you deserve?”
I’m bobbing my head. “On all counts. It’s me who went off the rails this time., Felix. It’s you who needs to forgive me. For setting ultimatums, ordering you to take my side against your brother’s, for hinting at your immorality. I really was up on my high horse.”
“Always forgiven,” he says, reaching out for me.
I crash into his embrace. Felix’s mouth clamps onto mine and I’m lost in the sensation of being connected to him again. Weeks of emotion and pent up lust pour into the kiss. Tears trickle down my cheeks and slide down my jaw. Felix wipes the tears away with his thumbs as he draws away.
His face is flushed, and happy “I love you, Cara Cole. I want to be here for you always, to solve problems with you, whatever may come along. I’m going to face things head on from now on.”
“I love you too, you crazy, gorgeous, fallen angel and I hope you’ll be sticking around because I’m placing all my bets on you.”
We clutch each other tightly. “Let’s get out of here,” Felix says. “Your place looks kinda busy. How about my place?”
I take his hand in mine. “I thought you’d never ask.”
EPILOGUE
(SIX MONTHS LATER)
CARA
IT’S A COOL DAY in October and I’m busy doing a clean of the office. A new client is coming in this afternoon. Business has picked up enough to secure my income for the foreseeable future. My new clientèle? Poker players who want to make sure the casinos aren’t rigged and that other players aren’t cheating. It’s a whole sub-industry I had no idea existed until Felix told me about it. It’s right up my alley.
Felix will come around after the meeting and take me to dinner to celebrate his latest win in Reno. It was a big pot. When we first got together six months ago, I offered him a job helping me in my little sleuthing business, but as soon as the words had popped out of my mouth, I realized it was me judging his way of life—something I never want to do. He forgave me though. Over the months, we’ve moved in together, discovered a lot about each other—the good and the bad, the strengths, and the insecurities, but we work through any issues with the same humor and verve that we bring to all aspects of our lives.
Jack and Mia have become firm friends. They’re based in LA too so we often meet in each other’s apartments for dinner—albeit more often chez Jack & Mia because let’s face it, Jack’s cooking is the best.
The Bitcoin Billionaires have been quiet of late. Egan hasn’t called anyone to a meeting. Jack reckons that it’s calm before the storm and he’s losing patience. Felix explained to Jack about his new role as “watchdog” and about how he now had a link to Paul and would use it if necessary. Both brothers agree that Egan is possibly a megalomaniac and that this tendency will need addressing at the next meeting.
Dear old Mr. Goodman turned out to be not so much of a good man; he got busted for tax evasion. In a sulk, he tried to convince all his friends not to work with me anymore. Some did go, but I was better off without them so I could concentrate on the poker players. If he ever crawls back with apologies I may listen to him, for old time’s sake, but the apology had better be genuine.
There’s a knock on the office door.
I open. It’s Laila. Laila is leaving again after her extended stay with me. It’s taken her all morning to find her clothes and knick-knacks in every corner of my apartment and now she’s on her way to the airport.
“Taxi’s waiting so I have to be quick. Thanks sis,” she hugs me tight. “For letting me stay so long this time.”
“Anytime, babe.”
“You’ll have Tessa and Alanna here next.”
“That’s the plan.” My two youngest sisters and our aunt are due to arrive next week. Now that I’ve told them about Felix and I going steady, I think they’re curious to meet him. I can just imagine how giddy those fourteen-year-olds will be around Felix, but I’m sure they’ll get on fabulously after the initial awkwardness passes.
Laila peers around the office and grows somber. “I won’t lie. It feels weird coming here you know, with Dad gone, but…”
“It’s not as bad as you thought?”
“No. It’s cool. And it’s so nice to visit his office again. I really feel he’s here. You’ve kept the typewriter. And the falcon!”
“Of course.”
“It’s like…” —her tone grows hushed—“He’s like a ghost. A friendly ghost, watching over you while you work. I can see why you didn’t want to sell.”
I give her another tight squeeze, touched that my younger sister is beginning to understand how I feel about the office and that she’s finally decided to check it out. She’d been avoiding it since Dad died.
“Come anytime if you feel the urge to reconnect,” I tell her.
“I will. Hasta la vista,” she says and scurries back to the door. “Must dash.”
By 3 p.m. the office is looking very much revived, polished surfaces, a vacuum clean—all the things I should do regularly but am not so diligent about. Now all I have to do is wait for my new client due at 3:30 p.m.
Right on time, the doorbell goes. I leap up. Mr. Remlap is a casino manager who heard through the grapevine about my specialty in casino security.
When I open the door, it’s not the middle-aged man I’m expecting to see but rather, Felix, standing there looking gorgeous, the sun burnishing his hair gold, a massive grin on his face.
“Felix, what are you doing here? I’ve got a client meeting now!” I tap my watch and peer around in case he’s right behind.
“That’s some welcome from my treasured one-and-only most beloved Queen of the fer-de-lances,” Felix says, tugging me into him.
I can’t resist. I step on my tip toes and meet his lips with mine. The kiss grows heated, melting away the stresses of the day. I haven’t seen him for four days and it’s been too long. I can’t wait to get him home later and welcome him properly. We’ll have my apartment to ourselves so we can get wild and dirty. Felix’s hands cup my buttocks and gives them a good hard squeeze.
Please don’t let my new client be standing behind us watching.
Felix senses my hesitation. He breaks off.
“You’re some detective,” he says with a wicked glint in his eyes.
“What?”
“Mr. Remlap?”
“You know him?” I say in surprise.
“Absolutely. I know him backwards.”
“Huh?”
And then the penny drops. R-e-m-l-a-p is P-a-l-m-e-r backwards.
“OK, very funny,” I say. “What’s this? A set up?”
Felix strides past me into the room. “In a manner of speaking. I had to make sure you’d have time for me and wouldn’t be running about the place like you usually are.”
I smirk. “Well you’ve got my attention now.”
“You cleaned the place up, I see.”
“Yeah.”
“Not so thoroughly though.”
“Well excuse me, Mr. Finicky.”
Felix winks at me and stalks to the back of the room, reaches up to the topmost shelf and takes down the state of the black falcon.
“Careful…” I say.
“What you don’t realize is that in the back of the Maltese Falcon…” He unhooks the lock of the secret compartment in back of the statuette, “….is this.” In his palm lies a small, velvet black box.
A lump comes to the back of my throat. He knows how much I associate that statue with Dad. He’s picked the perfect way to do what I think, and hope, he’s going to do. I quiver with excitement.
Felix goes on one knee before me and raises the open box so I see the sparkle of diamonds set in white gold—my favorite. The ring is dainty and totally something I’d choose for myself if I ignored the price tag.
