The Gamble (D'Arth Series Book 3)

by Camille Oster

  "Then you just weren't good enough.” Well, Peter was in a good and supportive mood today. Maybe this development with the partner hadn't gone as he wanted to and this was Peter in a foul mood. Alex regretted joining him in the lounge. If this was going to be a recap of all her failings, she would be better off downstairs in the crowd, getting her drink with a straw from whatever fast-food place existed in the airport.

  "Yeah, maybe," she said dismissively, making Peter smile in the process, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

  "You have to be a bit tougher if you're going to make it.”

  "Is there something I should have delivered over the last week that I didn't?" she challenged.

  "You can't just wait for things to be handed to you. I am trying to help you here. This relationship with Marco D'Arth is following you and people perceive you as weak because of it. You need to be aware that such things have consequences.”

  That was rich coming from Peter, who spread his attention far and wide, but then he was always the user and came out on top of these things. "Point taken," she said sulkily. From Peter's perspective, any relationship was weakness; he certainly wouldn't understand that she'd cared for Marco. To Peter that had been a mistake—and maybe he was right. The point he was trying to make was that it had cost her a lot, and she'd gotten very little in the bargain.

  She hadn't been home long before Rachel called. It had to be something important if she called rather than texted. "You have to come out," Rachel pleaded. "We're celebrating. I got a promotion.”

  Alex could hear the excitement in Rachel's voice. "Congratulations," Alex said, genuinely pleased for her. It still stung a bit, because it was something Alex wasn't getting anytime soon.

  "You have to come. It won't be the same without you.”

  "Of course I'll come," Alex said, knowing she only wanted to curl up on the couch after a long flight with patchy sleep, not to mention her pummelling by Peter. They hadn't spoken a lot on the plane. He had put those noise-cancelling earphones on and slept. She'd watched him for a bit, still trying to figure out what it was that made him tick.

  But her friend needed her tonight so she would just have to put her weariness aside, at least for a while.

  Alex took the bus down into Angel High Street to get to the bar Rachel had picked. She paused for a moment outside, taking a breath before entering. Marco would be there. She felt his eyes on her the moment she walked in, but she refused to seek him out.

  "Marco is watching you," Jenny said as soon as she sat down.

  "I know," Alex responded.

  "He's been asking about you too, while you were gone.”

  Alex nodded. She really didn't want to talk about Marco. She wasn't here to deal with that drama.

  "I don't think he's given up on the idea that you guys could get back together.”

  "Well, he’s just going to have to," Alex said, trying to dismiss the topic.

  Sarah joined them. "What's going on?"

  "Just talking about Marco.”

  "He's been pining away for you," Sarah said, leaning in. "There's this new girl, Cassie. She's here somewhere. Robbie's cousin. Got a thing for Marco, but he doesn't want a bar of her. Are you going to give him a chance?"

  "No," Alex said with a sigh, rubbing her forehead. "I'm done with immature guys, and I'm certainly done with guys in my industry. I want a nice guy without a bag full of issues. I am so ready to leave that behind.”

  "Well, maybe if you moved on, Marco would too.”

  "The problem is that there aren't a lot of guys around who aren't arseholes, cheaters, or commitment phobs. If you know any, let me know.”

  "There's a nice guy at my gym I could set you up with.”

  "I'm not quite desperate enough that I have to be set up by my friends," Alex said with a dismissive snort.

  "I'm serious. He's a nice guy, studying to be a vet. He's pretty cute too.”

  Alex realised that Sarah was serious. "I don't know," she said, the idea of a blind date a bit disconcerting.

  "Seriously, what are you going to do about Marco? He's like in love with you.”

  Alex's shoulders shrunk. Why did she have to deal with this right now? Leaning down on her hands, she concluded that she couldn't cope with this right now, particularly with the jetlag she had. Luckily, Sarah let the subject drop and the conversation moved onto Dion and the trouble he was having with his girlfriend.

  Alex still felt Marco there and she couldn't relax. He never approached her, but he was there in the background. It was hard just to think about him. Everything was just so messy. She didn't know whether his feelings were genuine or whether he was just, as Peter supposed, upset that he couldn't control her, wasn't getting his way. Either way, that left his immaturity underneath all that.

  Closing her eyes, Alex refused to think about it any further. Maybe it was time for her to just go—leave London and this utter mess behind. She could potentially transfer to the LA office, but her reputation would follow her there—the sucker that fell in love with the competition and was used as a result.

  She still couldn't bring herself to truly believe that, but that didn't really matter. Marco not letting it go wasn't making it better either. She was uncomfortable; he was supposedly miserable—no one was winning in this.

  "I'm gonna go," she said after a while.

  "Come on, stay," Rachel pleaded.

  "I'm sorry, sweetie. I need some couch time. I'm so glad about your promotion, no one deserves it more than you. Let's do coffee on the weekend, okay?"

  Rachel looked disappointed. "You can't let him get to you.”

  "I know," Alex said. "I'm just really not in the mood tonight.”

  Getting up, Alex walked to the door.

  "Alex," Marco said, appearing behind her.

  "Marco, I can't do this right now," she said, feeling cornered. They were standing close, speaking hurriedly in a crowded bar and to anyone who didn't know them, it would look like lovers talking. They weren't.

  "Then when? When can you do this? What do you want me to do, Alex?"

  "I want you to get on with it.”

  "I can't. I've tried. I think about you all the time.”

  "Why do you have to make this so hard?" Alex said with exasperation.

  "What do you want me to do?" he was losing his temper.

  "I want you to go away. I want you to leave me alone.” His eyes were dark, angry and accusing. This thing was too screwed up to fix. The bottom line was that she didn't trust him. She saw too much of Peter in him and if she gave in now, she would end up a doormat like Lacey.

  She couldn't look at him with that look, his eyes drew her in. His body still called to her—the comfort, the excitement and the devastating things he could do to her. "Damn it, Marco. You have to leave me alone.” Alex was having trouble holding her tears back, like she'd managed for so long.

  His hand around her wrist let her go. She felt the cool air starkly against her skin where he'd held her, not having been aware that he was holding her until he let go. Without a moment further, she ran out of the bar, tears finally flowing. People stared at her as she briskly walked down the street, but no one said anything.

  Everything was an utter fucking mess. Her career was in the toilet, Marco wanted her to relent so he could take her god knows where. Peter wanted to turn her into a heartless bitch who stepped on people to get where she wanted to go. Everyone was trying to push her in some direction and none of them seemed to suit her. Why wasn't anyone happy with her as she was?

  She could take a punt on Marco, but she'd paid so heavily the last time. Everything bad seemed to have stemmed from that, and now he wanted more. She wasn't sure she had more to give. Maybe she was just empty, but the demands still kept coming.

  * * *

  Chapter 29:

  * * *

  Just to do something, Alex agreed to go on a date with Mr. Soon-to-be-a-Vet. He met her in the lobby at her work on a Tuesday evening. He had light brown hair and was a
little on the short side. He wore glasses and had a nice smile. So this is what a nice guy looked like.

  Alex introduced herself as did Tom from Kent. As they left through the big glass doors, Alex froze as Peter came the other way. Peter saw her, then Tom, his eyes travelling back to hers like he couldn't believe what she was doing. With a snort, he shook his head and dismissed them both.

  Peter knew exactly what she was doing—going on a nice, safe date with some gutless wonder. Alex didn't know if Tom was gutless, but he was really boring, and Alex spent the whole evening worrying about the look she'd seen on Peter's face. She shouldn't care, but she did—he was her champion, her mentor and the one who seemed to know how to push every one of her buttons.

  Tom was sweet, but she felt none of the attraction she felt when she was with Marco, and certainly none of the fear she felt when Peter's attention was on her. Until this moment, she hadn't realised what it was. It was fear—because he saw her for what she was—a coward and a fraud. The description made her stomach turn and she refused to accept the assessment that had popped into her own mind.

  Mercifully the date ended and Tom didn't seem to realise she'd been miserable the whole time, or he wasn't letting on that he did.

  Alex wondered whether she should go back to the office to confront Peter. He might not be there. Her stomach churned with worry, but she didn't entirely know why. What was it he wanted from her? Why was he so committed to her being what he wanted?

  Returning home, she slept terribly that night, dragging herself out of bed the next morning. On the way to work, a text arrived from Tom saying he’d had a great night. Alex groaned. He had frickin manners too, but that just goaded her even more at this point.

  Stepping onto her floor, Peter was there. "I'm fucking disappointed with you," he said, pointing to her.

  "What? Because I went on a date.”

  "Because you're a pussy, looking for a nice four-wheel drive in the country.” It was an English analogy that seemed a bit ridiculous to a New Zealander, but she got his point. And yes, she had gone on a safe date. His accusation was true. "To ride on someone else's ticket so you don't have to take responsibility for your own life. Run along, little girl. Go find some dolls to play with.”

  She’d never seen Peter so angry. He marched quickly along the office and Alex followed him. She wasn't going to wear that accusation. "Work isn't going to be my whole life. I want someone in my life.”

  "You want delusion and to pretend you’re safe. You're a coward.” That stung because it was exactly the thought that had occurred to her the previous evening. The worst was that it was true and she hated it. She'd run from Marco because she didn't know what the outcome would be. Alex had no idea where Peter was going, but she wasn't ready to slink away with these horrible accusation laid on her.

  "What do you want from me?" she demanded.

  Peter finally turned. He looked furious. Stepping closer, he crowded her. "I want you to want more. I want you to be strong. To take what you want.” He was close now, flush against her. He was so tall. And it dawned on her that he'd been waiting for her to take him. Concern and understanding flashed through her. She'd always known he wanted to get with her, but what he'd really wanted was for her to want him, to be like him, but he was too damaged—couldn't he see that? He knew that—he revelled in it. Being with him would be an irresponsible decision—a start down a path she didn’t want to go.

  She pushed him back. "I want more," she said. "I want more from you. Lacey wanted more from you.” Okay, she hadn't strictly been after Peter, but the thought had occurred to her—one she dismissed because he didn't offer her what she wanted. To Peter, his lack of commitment was something commendable, proof that he was stronger, more intense, whatever. It would be a short-term thing—meaningless. But maybe that was the point, it wasn't meaningless, just short. But she couldn't take him on and just walk away. If that was his definition of strength, it sucked.

  "Well, fuck off then.” She had never seen him look so bitter, like he hated her. What the hell did he want from her? Was this all some game to him? Had he bet that he would get her and he'd realised he'd lost? He just didn't make sense to her.

  He walked out of the meeting room and she followed him yet again. "Fine," she screamed after him, suddenly feeling furious with him. She wanted to be friends with him; she’d wanted this strange little relationship to mean something. Scarily, he did know her better than anyone else, and being his protégé had been important to her. But he wouldn’t accept her as she was, brutally rejecting her weaknesses. Maybe she was scared—who wasn’t? The world was a scary place and sometimes one got eaten. But not Peter—he was too busy doing the eating and being too hard—too protected behind his unbreakable defences. For all that, he wanted her to change, to be more like him. But now, their relationship was completely broken and she didn't think it could ever recover—not even sure she wanted it to if she had to be some super-bitch to play on his level.

  Everyone in the office stared at her, thinking she was the new Lacey, having a lovers' spat. We're not fucking lovers, she wanted to scream. Wherever she went these days, people seemed to accuse her of that with their silence and miscomprehending eyes. Flinging her bag down on her desk, she started her computer. Adrenalin was still coursing through her veins. She'd lost her champion. People were still staring at her and she didn't know where to turn all the tension and emotions she felt. She didn't know what to do. The development this morning hurt beyond anything that made sense. Perhaps because she'd thought they were friends, because she'd thought on some level he'd cared about her.

  He was coming back, still looking murderous. "You don't have what it takes to work here. Pack your shit and get out.” Coldly, he turned without giving her a second glance. So that was it. Now that it came down to it, she didn't give a shit about this job, but he’d just dismissing her like she was yesterday's garbage, that hurt.

  Getting up, she charged after him. "You can stick it, Peter. I don't fucking care about this job, you sadistic fuck.”

  "You won't work in London again.”

  "Ooh, I'm scared.” Alright, that was downright immature.

  "Get out," he ordered coldly, his eyes icy hard.

  "I fucking cared about you. I cared what you thought about me. I wanted us to be friends.”

  "I don't need friends," he said mockingly, making him look ugly. "Certainly not some pussy little moron, scared of being anything more than some suburban cop-out, whose only purpose in life is to look competitive in front of the other school-yard mums.”

  Alex narrowed her eyes. "I may or may not have kids, but I'm not going to become a jaded, old player like you either, chasing after some skirt to make my life look as if it has some meaning. I put one hundred percent into what I do and that includes my relationships. I'm not going to be like you," she spat back with equal bitterness. "I am not going to be scared. You can call me a pussy all you like, Peter, but I will give it all I have and get whatever return comes from it. You're the pussy—scared of your own shadow.”

  "Should I be like you, Alex? Wrapped up in your own fallacy and your ludicrous romantic ideals.”

  "Maybe I will be, but that is a risk I'll have to take. Whereas you're all alone. I'm just another person that walks away from you, just like Lacey and everyone before her. You're all alone and you'll stay that way.”

  His mouth seemed to tighten even more, and his chin rose, looking away from her, turning his back to her.

  "Goodbye, Peter," she finally said, actually feeling sad. It felt as though there was more to say and she didn't want to leave him like this—as if she was giving up on him. There was no hope for him and she felt really sorry about him. Maybe she never had the right to expect anything from him. She guessed she liked him enough to wish him better. His arms were crossed and he stood with his back to her, straight and unyielding.

  Everyone in the office was staring at her. She didn't even bother packing her things; there was nothing there she wanted
to keep. Picking up her bag and throwing a last look at Peter, she turned to the elevators and left.

  The elevator seemed to take an eternity to reach the ground and Alex felt her anger deflating, leaving her exhausted. It wasn't a nice way of finishing, but perhaps it had been needed. She'd been stuck in her own indecision, not knowing where to turn, turning to Peter for guidance, of all people.

  She knew there was no going back with Peter. He would have written her off—refusing to be moulded into what he was. Maybe according to him, if she was like him, he wouldn't be so alone. It wasn't her problem to fix Peter and she certainly wasn't going to waste her life on something pointless. Peter couldn't change and she suspected he knew it.

  Looking up the tower she'd just left, she said goodbye to him one last time, concluding that she wasn't going to think about him again. Maybe some of his ruthlessness had rubbed off on her after all—in a way he hadn't expected. But the truth had been revealed in a painful way. She had been cowardly—downright scared, but not in the way Peter thought. Her cowardice would see her ending up like him and while he thought that was strength, to her, it was a worse form of cowardice.

  Walking down the street, she realised she was unemployed. Turns out she didn't care. She actually felt light and free for the first time in quite a while. She may not get another job in advertising, but it wasn't the only industry around. She was young; she could do whatever the hell she wanted, but first there was something she needed to fix. If she was committed to not being a coward, then maybe she had to reach out to the one that was reaching for her. It might end in tears—likely it would, but maybe the risk was worth it.