Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
The messages on my phone, Andy. Ten of them in a row. Ten messages from him, all this morning. Begging, pleading, promising. But I don’t want to go back there, I need something to cling onto, a reason for staying.
I gave up the fight, flopping back in my chair. “Nothing, Andy. Just nothing.”
“Faye? What the hell’s this about?”
“You,” I lied. “It’s about you. The way you treat me like a second class citizen. The way you ignore me.”
“I treat you just like anyone else.”
I scowled to hide the upset. “But I’m not just anyone else. I’m your business partner.”
“Who walked away three years ago. You walked. Don’t preach to me about being ignored, Faye, you’ve got a fucking cheek.”
“Yes, yes, yes. I fucking walked. And then I walked back.” I picked up a biro from the floor, twirled it in my fingers, round and round. It took him by surprise when I launched it at the wall. It spotted black ink across the magnolia, and Andy’s face looked like I’d given him a slap. “I’m done. I’ll call a lawyer, we’ll get this sorted properly.”
He folded his arms, blocked my path before I’d even shifted. “That’s absurd. It’ll cost a fucking fortune, drag us both through a load of shit that I quite frankly don’t have time for.”
“I just want a desk, and a phone and a fucking desk tidy... Is that too much to ask?”
“It wouldn’t work. I don’t share.” He straightened his tie, adjusted his collar. Checked himself out in the mirror on the far wall. “We’d argue day and night over fucking paperclips.”
“How about we just take it in turns?” I looked up at him, and my eyes were welling, I could feel it. Too fragile, much too fragile. “Think back to when we started, to all the ideas we had. All the ideas I had. You used to like them, you used to listen.”
“That was a long fucking time ago.”
“You remember, though?”
“Of course I remember. I remember everything. I’m the one who stayed.”
“You wouldn’t even need to be here when it was my go. Take some time off, go on holiday. I can handle the place, I swear.”
His eyes were hostile. “I’ve been here seven days a week since we opened. Every day, Faye. Every. Single. Day. You think I’m just going to abandon ship because you want to play Club Manager? Not pissing likely. What’s going to happen when you get bored and flit off again?”
“I’m not going to.” I groaned. “Jesus, Andy, give me a chance. Please.”
His hands were in his hair as he paced up and down.
I dug my phone from my pocket, stomach turning to find another message icon. I cleared it without reading, then looked up lawyers on Google. Commercial lawyers. I dialled the first number I found. “Hello? Yes, my name is Faye Devere, I have a company law dispute I’d like to speak with someone about...” Andy’s face turned white before my eyes. “Yes, a limited company, that’s right. Club Explicit Ltd. The company number? I’ll just grab it for you.” I was reaching for the printed notepad when Andy grabbed the handset from my hand and cancelled the call in a heartbeat, eyes black as coal.
“Don’t,” he said. “No fucking lawyers, Faye. It’ll bring a whirlwind of trouble.”
“You don’t want to play it out, and you don’t want lawyers. What do you want?”
“I’m thinking,” he snapped. I gave him time, eyes drawn to the muscles in his thighs as he paced. “I won’t share and you won’t back down. So we play for it. Seven day terms. That’s all we ever play for. If one of us wins three weeks in a row the fourth is a moot call. It goes to the other. If you let me down, Faye, I swear I’ll never work with you again.”
“Seven days.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“It’s a short enough timeframe that either of us can fuck off and get some space if we need it.”
“Fine. I like it.” I tipped my head back, stared at the ceiling. “You want to do the playroom again? You can go first.”
He shook his head. “We need another way. Something less... invasive.”
“Draw straws?” I said. “Flip a coin?”
A flicker of inspiration and he was off like a shot. “I have just the thing.”
***
Andy
I hid the twisting of my gut behind a veneer of calm. The woman was wired, fucked up somehow. I flashed her a look over my shoulder as I rummaged in my drawer. She wasn’t close enough to peer inside, thank fuck.
This power share was a non-event, it would never work. A short-lived novelty and it would be all over. I’d be calling my own lawyer and ironing out the cracks. The cracks. Chasms, more like. In the meantime I’d play the game. Maybe she’d be long gone by the time necessity came calling.