Lachlan Marriot was in full financial monster mode, using my full name, extending his hand for the handshake of businessmen, not the fist pump of old friends. Impeccably groomed, wearing yet another tailor made blue-grey wool suit and crisp white shirt, I wondered how and why we were still friends.
Because I knew him when he couldn’t afford his own coffee and usually he kept his conceit and arrogance for those who didn’t know him back in the day.
“Good to see you.”
The waitress was almost glued to Lachlan’s hip. While Australians rarely tipped, Lachlan made a point of generosity. Partly because he could, and partly because he knew how hard it was to live in the city on minimum wage. Whatever the reason, his reputation proceeded him, and he was feted by hospitality staff from coffee shops to pubs to five-star restaurants.
“I’ll have a flat white, and my friend?”
“Double shot black, thanks.” It’d be my second of the day, but who was counting.
“Anything to eat?” Lachlan shared the menu before looking up at the waitress. “Emma has never steered me wrong.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Thank you, Mr. Marriot, your coffees will only be a couple of minutes.”
Lachlan waited until Emma, of course he knew her name, left to log our order. “Ibby, I’m sorry we got to this point. Last we talked; money wasn’t the issue.”
“Yeah, well twenty-four hours is a long time in politics and hospitality.” The shreds of my ego wanted to gloss over the issues, but Lachlan could only help me if I laid out the truth. Warts and all. “Last time the media were caning me, I got a social influencer to rattle some cages and get things back on track.”
“You can’t this time?”
“Different sort of issues. I need to let the health and licensing stuff work their way through. If it seems like I’m trying to buy favors, the public will crucify me.”
“So how much do you need?”
Of course, Lachlan dealt in cold currency, not emotion. Lachlan didn’t care about how many employees weren’t getting shifts this week. Or how many small businesses relied on my businesses to supply food, drinks, crockery, even entertainment. None of my DJs wanted to perform to empty rooms. It didn’t work for their vibe or their reputation.
“Ibrahim? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how much.”
I couldn’t even say the number aloud to myself. Admitting the number was akin to admitting defeat. How the hell had I let it get this far? I wrote a figure down on the napkin and passed it across.
Lachlan whistled, “When do you need it?”
“Unsecured and within two weeks.”
“Unsecured might be a problem.”
I’d had played with the figures so many times, I could explain and decipher any of them to the decimal point. “How about you look for the deal and we can talk about security.”
“What other assets do you have?”
Lachlan had known my hard limits before approaching Garrison. Now, to save Katie and Chelle from Garrison, there were no limits.
Hell, who was I? Fifteen years of hard slog, doing deals and working my ass off. All on the line because of a woman?
Not because of a woman. Because of Katie.
Garrison only wanted the girls because it was a power play designed to mess with my head. Technically, it wasn’t a big deal. I’d renege or be late on a payment and transfer over the employment contracts. The girls would tender their resignation and after a month, life would return to normal.
I didn’t have to do this.
Technically wasn’t reality.
Garrison wanted more than their employment contracts and his goons were ready for leftovers. I couldn’t risk either of the girls.
“Half ownership in The Club and my house.”
“Your house should cover it. Are you sure?”
“Never been surer. I’d rather pay extra for unsecured, but if I’m being backed into a corner, then put the house up. I need an answer within a week, money in two.”
“Is there any point in reminding you that this was a stupid deal to begin with?”
“Like I need reminding.”
“There’s a couple of personal investors at some of my poker games, I’ll tap a few of them on the shoulder. They don’t mind a gamble and might like the idea of rubbing shoulders with your lifestyle.”
“Thanks, and if there’s anything I can do for you—”
“I make my business by putting people I’ve done business with, in touch with people I want to be in business with. You’ll be hearing from me.”
Garrison: I hear you are trying to get out of our deal.
Ibby: Protecting your investment is my highest priority.
Garrison: Then why have you got Marriot looking to cash you up.
Ibby: Making sure that I can repay your generosity.
Garrison: I’m a businessman. You don’t pay, I have other options.
Ibby: No offence intended. I want you to feel confident you’ll get your money back.
Garrison: Not feeling the love or respect my money deserves.
It wasn’t Garrison’s feelings being hurt or pummeled as Lachlan tapped out one potential money tree after another.
A week had become an endless nightmare with options fading with each phone call.
“Sorry, Ibby,” Lachlan had resorted to using my nickname to soften the blows. “Carl Beurle and Rob Farlow would normally bet on two cockroaches crawling up a wall.”
“What happened?” I started getting a perverse satisfaction from asking. Almost as if I needed proof of my world being set alight, one match at a time.
“Garrison’s goons paid a visit and suggested insurance wouldn’t cover their losses. The guy isn’t even dressing up the threats in suits anymore.”
Less comforting were my daily messages from Garrison. I tried to draw comfort that he’d expected me to either fail or cave by now. Being underestimated was only good while I could see light at the end of the tunnel. But Lachlan’s dwindling list of potential sources were becoming their own firestorm. My business had the stench of failure and no one wanted a taste.
Still, despite all the dirty tricks, The Club still generated enough cash flow for me to pay the latest monthly payment. Thanks to Katie’s brilliance and Carson’s design input, costs were a fraction of the original estimates.
The longer I could stall Garrison with texts, the more confident I tried to stay, hoping the bastard could bluster all he wanted, but posed no threat.
Garrison: I think it’s time I got to know my new girls better.
I looked around The Club. Last night had been one of our best and tonight promised more of the same. Janet had recruited well to cover Chelle and Katie. Three Irish backpackers with lilting accents that were opening wallets. We had at least one bachelor party booked each night during the week and three on Fridays and Saturdays. The last two Sundays we’d even closed The Club for private collaring ceremonies.
My club. My girls. Under my protection.
Ibby: They aren’t your girls.
Garrison: You agreed.
Ibby: I agreed to Jack shit. They only come into play if I miss a payment deadline.
Garrison: You miss a payment and I get the two girls. Chelle and Katie.
Ibby: I haven’t missed a payment. The girls are still off limits.
Garrison: You offered them up like cattle to the highest bidder.
Ibby: Bullshit. You demanded I put their employment contracts up as security.
Garrison: You agreed.
Ibby: I didn’t have a choice.
Garrison: You always have a choice. You chose to put the girls into play.
Ibby: Like I said. I haven’t missed a payment. They’re not your girls.
Garrison: Yet.
Garrison: Gottcha.
What?
The message taunted me, to no avail. What the hell did he mean by—
Fuck.
Until I’d been stupid enough to confirm th
e arrangement by text, Garrison had no proof. It would have been my denial against Garrison’s accusations.
Bastard.
Reading back over the hundred or so texts, Garrison had been playing with me. Read as a narrative, they’d been carefully scripted to lull me into complacency.
It had never been about the money or the girls. Garrison had wanted the feeling of power and control over my empire. Everything, and everyone else, were collateral damage to Garrison’s ego.
I thought I’d lost my ego before asking Lachlan for help. No, the shreds of my ego had been pitted against Garrison’s might. And failed. I’d fallen headlong into a trap of my own making.
Ibby: Girls are out of play.
Garrison: They should know what a caring employer you are.
Ibby: Girls are out of play.
It didn’t matter how many times I resent the text; the damage had been done. Katie would never forgive me. That’s if Darius let me live long enough to beg for forgiveness.
Garrison: They should know I can be just as caring. The blonde can move straight from your house to mine. I’m not fussy.
By the time my phone finished bouncing off the metal beam, the screen was cracked, and the power button taunted me with momentary hints of working before descending into an unhelpful black screen.
Deep breaths were necessary. I needed oxygen to flow and my brain to at least pretend to work. No situation was impossible to get out of. I just needed to be smarter. Garrison using Katie’s safety to push my buttons had to be a desperate attempt to make me act out of emotions instead of intellect. Which meant he knew he was running out of options.
Him. Not me.
I needed a new phone, but it could wait until I knew who to call, what to say and what to do. In a way, lack of digital communication allowed my brain to start functioning, again. About fucking time.
Too late to go home and get sleep, and Ricardo would thank me for not dropping by yet again to check on things. Instead, I headed to the gym. Perhaps fatigue and exercise could get the blood pumping and ideas flowing.
I nodded to Bruce who almost lived at the front desk of the gym. Ronan and I had found this place years ago. While most of our friends preferred new equipment and working out in front of mirrors, we preferred old school.
“Less looking, more action. You don’t need to see your body working, get to know each muscle and feel it.” I took on my friend’s advice as I moved through my normal legs’ session.
Garrison had found out Katie was staying with me but didn’t know where we’d stashed Chelle. Right now, I’d take that as half a win.
My fists clenched around the bar. Squats were good for the legs, but I needed more. I needed to feel my knuckles inflict damage. The old bag called my name. Held together with tape, I swore it could almost become heritage listed. Still, I did most of my best thinking while boxing.
An hour later, my shoulders cried for mercy, fists needed an ice bath and I had half an idea. Not my finest, with more risk than I preferred.
But Garrison’s threats couldn’t go unheeded. Mine wasn’t the only fight in town. Time to bring all battles into one and hope I had more friends than enemies and that Garrison’s power had less sway than my friends.
Katie. This needed to work to keep her safe.
It didn’t matter if she hated me for putting her employment contract on the line. As long as she was safe, I could wait for her to forgive me.
Yes or no?
Turn right towards home and Katie, or keep going and sort this shit out? If I turned up now, there’d be no going back.
Katie’s body in bed? One last chance to build memories before Garrison decided to share the texts? Or get a head start on finishing the mother fucker once and for all?
“Thought you didn’t want to pick sides, mate,” Luther mused. Not surprised to see me turn up to the Kingsmen clubhouse unannounced. At least it didn’t seem my visit was unwelcome.
“I don’t.”
The good thing about Luther was his ability to read a situation without wasting time with explanations. Still, I needed to explain, for my own conscious. “You and Karnal found common ground before. If we team up, he’s gonna go running to Garrison. All hell’s gonna break lose.”
“You want my protection, you’ve picked sides.” Luther led me out the back to where a fire burned in an old forty-gallon drum. In any other setting, fire would be comforting. Here and now, I wondered how many secrets had been burned. Reputations and lives.
“We go back, how many years?”
“Doesn’t matter. You want my guys to have your back, you need to make a statement.”
“Fine, but we gotta do this smart. Karnal’s guys know where the other girl is.”
“Innocents are out of play. I’ll send a guy down there to do the handover.”
“The address?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’d be more concerned about your clubs and home.”
“Have you got enough guys?”
“I’ve got friends. Once you come out on our side, more friends will follow. Everyone has been waiting on the sidelines for either the Redbacks to take over or for us to kick ass.”
“I don’t see how much sway a couple of nightclubs will do.”
I’d worked so fucking hard to stay neutral. Keep out of all the messy shit. But if I had to pick sides, loyalty won. Almost twenty years of friendship meant something. At least to me.
“It’s about respect. You and I go way back. While you were sitting back, people thought you’d changed allegiances.”
“Sitting back and hoping the two of you would sort it out was about not making a messed-up situation even worse. Like you said, we go way back. I’ve got no beef with the Redbacks, unless they come after me.”
“You side with me, they go with Garrison. They’ll come after you.” Luther warned.
“I know.”
“You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I want my fucking life back. I want to go back to running my businesses without having to second guess the bastard.”
“And the girl?”
I laughed, “Let’s see if she’s still talking to me when this is over.”
“And if she is?” Luther pressed. I knew what he meant and shrugged. Katie and I had only been together for a little over a month. We needed time away from this craziness to talk about us and our future. Could our relationship, forged in insanity survive normality?
“I don’t want anything to do with your club business.” It shouldn’t need to be said but changing the topic wouldn’t hurt.
“I hear you. But your nightclubs could become real estate for my business.” The easy way Luther said the words didn’t stop his noose from tightening around my neck. Still, better the devil I’d grown up with.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“What are we doing about Garrison’s crew in your clubs?”
“Their business is my interest payment. Once the debt is done, they go.”
“With help?”
“Feel free to encourage them in any way you see fit. Once the last payment is made, I don’t want them anywhere near The Club, The Venue or any of my nightclubs.”
“Karnal and the Redbacks?”
“Mate, they are good customers and pay their bills on time. I only have a problem with them if you do.”
“It’ll take a while before our guys can be in the same place without bloodshed, especially if we’re all picking sides.”
“Is there any way you can finish your negotiations offline, preferably in the middle of the outback with no media?” Luther’s stare could have cured global warming as my feeble joke fell flat.
“As much as I’d love to be the one to tell Karnal the good news, as a sign of respect—”
“I know, as soon as I get a new phone, I’ll give him a call.”
“He’s gonna be pissed.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
As a sign of Luther’s respect, he showed me
out. Allowing his men to see him pull me into a man hug. But as I drove out of the yard, I hoped it would be enough.
Katie
“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Ibby asked as if we were any normal couple chatting on the phone about domestic normality. “I can either stop by the shops or pick up something from mama’s restaurant.”
“I don’t mind, maybe just a salad so I can keep fitting into my booty shorts that you seem to like?” I laughed, closing down my laptop. In little over a month, we’d gone from awkward friends with passionate intentions to lovers. At Ibby’s insistence, I’d spent the morning looking over university and college courses. He’d even offered to pay my tuition upfront, so I’d never feel obliged to stay with him just to continue my education.
Love.
Did I? Hell, yes.
Did he? If life was a magic eight-ball, it would say Signs say yes.
“How about I feed you and then you can show off the shorts for me later!”
“When will you be home?” Even that word had started to fall naturally from my lips. By the time I’d returned from Erebus’ house, Ibby had gone out of his way to make his home, ours.
Gone were the spare toothbrushes for random guests.
The spare towel in our bathroom came with an extra one for my hair. More than half of his cabinet had been cleared for my makeup and beauty products. Ibby had allowed online influencers to persuade him in choice of hair dryer and straightener waiting for me to go back to work.
He’d never shared his walk-in closet with a woman before. By the time I returned, he’d culled clothes and space was waiting for me. I could either collect the rest of my things, or he’d help me buy new ones.
With every action and word, Ibby made me feel safe.
Wanted.
Loved.
He was even making plans on when and how to introduce me to his family. Apparently, his mother had decided only the second coming was a greater miracle and wanted time to prepare and coordinate schedules with his brothers and their families.
Yet, all I had to offer him in return was, well, everything I had.
Friendship.
Body.
Love.
I only hoped it would always be enough for the man I’d fallen in love with before he even remembered my name.
Hard Bargain: a Billionaire Suspense Romance (City Sinners Book 3) Page 16
