Authors: Beth Ashworth
“I know. But I’m not sure Alice will want to talk anyway.” I heave a sigh. “I’m working at home for a few days, so I’m going to do some research and bounce back. We’ve got some fierce competition with some bloke called Oakley that’s trying to poach our clientele,” I tell her, taking another bite of cake.
It’s changing the subject, but she has already given me enough to think about for one day. I’ve realised in the short space of time talking to my mother that I’ve cocked up.
It’s up to me to own up to my mistakes and at least try to put things right. If she chooses to hear me out, then I guess that’s a bonus.
“Oakley?” Mum screws up her face and thinks deeply. “Why does that ring a bell?”
“I don’t recognise it. Probably to do with one of the ladies down the community centre. You know how you oldies like to have a gossip,” I tease with a playful wink.
It earns me a light slap on the shoulder. “Behave, you! I’m not as old as I look. I’m still a spring chicken inside.”
“Okay.” I smile but don’t catch her eye when I eat the last of the cake from my plate. “Well, thanks for the chat and cake. I’m gonna head home for a bit.”
Mum walks me to the door and I kiss her on the cheek. “Make sure you speak to your sister. She’s upset, but she’ll always be there to support you.”
“I know.” I head for my car. “See you soon, yeah?”
~
After seeing mum, it doesn’t take too long to drive back home. I park the car in the underground car park of my building and greet Jeffery earlier than he is expecting.
“Don’t mind me,” I say, getting in the lift. “I’m working from home and trying to relax a little for a few days.”
“Long overdue, Mr. Lewis,” he replies, selecting my floor on the panel.
Surprisingly, since I’ve gotten everything off my chest, I feel a load better. I’ve finally convinced myself that I’ve been trapped in a stink hole of denial for the last seven years with Libby being the one and only reason.
And now that I have access to her, I’ve gone and screwed the whole thing up. I’ve blown any chance of getting her to open up. Shit, I’ll be lucky if she ever wants to speak to me again.
She’ll probably slap me the next time she sees me. Although, I wouldn’t blame her if she did. I’ll deserve everything.
But I do still need to find the answer to my one question. It’s bugged me virtually every day since she left.
What prompted the divorce?
What were our irreconcilable differences?
Stepping off the lift on my floor, I beep myself into my apartment and kick off my shoes. Heading for my office, I don’t waste any time in logging onto my laptop and checking if I have any further word from Benedict on Libby’s camp.
Nothing.
I have half a mind to just drive over and demand she sees me, but I know it isn’t going to help anything. I’m at the mercy of others and I can’t stand it. My head is going absolutely crazy. I have fingers that are itching ... they can’t release.
I need to do something.
Anything.
So I grab my phone and call my sister.
“What do you want?” Alice laughs when she answers the phone. “Finally have the time to speak to me?”
“I’m at home. Why don’t you come over?”
Alice snorts. “At home? You don’t take days off work.”
“I’m not off. I’ve got some stuff going on, so I thought it would be better to work away from the office.”
“It kicked off with you and Libby, right?” Alice clucks down the phone as I release a sigh. “So you let Sean talk you into leaving the office. I didn’t think you had it in you. How about I come round and we watch some films together?” she suggests a little too excitedly.
“Don’t you have to work?” I ask, almost certain that her business isn’t profitable enough for her to be taking afternoons off when she feels like it. “And I’ve still got some reports that I need to do.”
“It’s fine. All of the girls are mobile today, so the shop is closed. And I could do with a break. I haven’t worked this hard in a long time.” She puffs out a long, dramatic breath before pressuring me once again. “So films, yeah?”
“As long as it’s not Love Actually,” I groan.
“I’ll see you in half an hour. You know that’s what I’m going to want to watch,” she giggles, disconnecting the call.
With a roll of my eyes, I put down my phone and log into my e-mails to do some bits and bobs till she arrives. I’m going to try and have an afternoon without work, but I know I won’t resist for too long. The urge always presents itself and I can’t keep away. Hopefully, I’ll have some more information from Benedict and Sean to keep me at bay. If not, they know they’ll have a fucking riot on their hands.
It has been twenty-four hours.
One very long day separates the last e-mail I received from Benedict. And even that was pathetic. He had e-mailed me last night after Alice and I had watched that God-awful romantic comedy she has obsessed about for the last few years, but he didn’t provide me with anything informative; nothing of any real substance to put my mind at rest.
I’m still hanging in mid-air.
He had updated me as such that he had made contact with Libby’s solicitor to try and drop the fraud accusations, but that was pretty much it. There hasn’t been a word on how she’s doing, nor have I heard anymore on that bastard who is trying to run my business into the ground. And I also haven’t heard from Sean on how the other projects are going.
It’s ten in the evening on a shitty Tuesday. I’m on day two of my supposed remote working and I’m in full blown meltdown mode. I’m sitting in my office, my fingers tapping the side of my desk as I watch hawk-eyed on my inbox for that little ping of light.
But there is nothing.
Nada.
Not even a junk e-mail to tell me my dick is too small, or for me to find some local bitches in my area desperate for a shag. I’m literally, Billy-fucking-no-mates, and it’s a load of bullshit.
Leaning back in my chair, I put my hands behind the back of my head and close my eyes. It’s only for a couple of seconds though as I’m immediately diving forward at the chime of my inbox and a new message.
“Shit.” I curse under my breath when I see the subject heading about being mis-sold PPI.
Bloody junk mail.
But then there is another ping and it is an e-mail from Benedict with Sean copied in. I open it and scan the contents. There is still no word from Libby’s camp and we are no closer to finding out about this Oakley bastard, but on the plus side it appears there is a contract for me to review for another of my deals going through. So at least they’re doing something right.
Grabbing my phone, I dial my solicitor’s number. Benedict answers after two rings with a bright and cheery greeting of, “Evening, Alex, have you seen my e-mail?”
“Yes. It doesn’t tell me anything, though. Have you
really
not heard a thing?” My patience is wearing. I don’t have time for this shit to be anything but top priority.
“I’ve tried, Alex, believe me. I’m not getting anything from Libby or her solicitors at the minute. And Sean is busy with the Oakley thing. He has a name, but that’s about it.”
“A name?” I spit, standing from my chair. “You have a fucking name and you didn’t say anything?” The anger is radiating from me like a radioactive glow. “Tell. Me. Now.”
“Well,” he starts, sounding flustered. “There is a guy called Ryan James who seems to be heading up Oakley Finance and personally going into these meetings—”
“That is nothing a quick Google couldn’t tell me. I already know about Ryan,” I interrupt. “Tell me something worthwhile.”
Benedict clears his throat. “We have the name of the sleeping partner in the business, who isn’t actually a sleeping partner, but is in fact a key player in the poaching of our clients. You may want to take a deep breath before I tell you this guy’s name.”
My interest peaks and I wander over to the window to peer out at the darkened night sky. “Go on.”
“Dale Oakes.” Benedict goes quiet as the nuclear bomb drops in my head. “Libby’s brother.”
“What did you just fucking say?” I’m practically shaking from the adrenaline that’s just released into my veins. The pulse in my neck throbs painfully and I slam my fist down on the window sill with brute force. “Tell me she isn’t involved, Benedict. Honest to fucking God, tell me she hasn’t had a part in any of this.”
Sickness and dread washes over me.
“I’m sorry, Alex,” is all that Benedict replies with, and I know instantly my theory is correct.
“Get your arse over here. Bring Sean too,” I snap, disconnecting the call and throwing my phone down on the side. Walking over to my desk, I pick up my leather swivel chair and launch it as hard as I can across the room in anger. “Motherfucker!” I roar, watching as the chair crashes into the wall.
My temperature starts to soar and I’m about ready to put my hands around that son of a bitch’s throat. I want to kill the little fucker.
And her.
I growl out loud and grab hold of my hair. Pulling it tightly in my hands, I allow the pain to try and take my mind away. I’m furious and also confused. My brain is in overload and I feel like I’m going to self-destruct any second.
I should try and calm down, but I’m too angry to do anything. I’m thinking of a million questions and answers in my head, trying to fathom through the fog about why Dale is out for my blood.
What would he have to do with his sister’s ex-husband?
I mean, I haven’t seen nor spoke to the bloke in seven years. And it can’t be because of the deal with Libby’s company. We had been having problems with Oakley six months before the deal with Libby’s company had gone through.
It doesn’t sit right with me. Unless... The penny drops and the realisation smacks me in the face. The fucker is out for revenge, just like me.
That’s it.
I mean, I’d do the same for Alice, right? Yes. It has to be the logical explanation. The bastard wants my head on a platter over the divorce. There’s no other reason. But surely he knows his sister was the one who left me? Or is there something else?
I need answers and I fucking need them yesterday. Nobody is going to get away with this. I don’t take shit from anybody, and especially not a limp dick like Dale. The bloke is a weed. Five foot nothing and about nine stone. I’d knock him flat on his arse with my little finger. But of course, given the chance I’d make my blows count. And I’d start by ramming my fist down his fucking throat.
I hear the buzzer for the main door. Flicking open the security camera on my laptop, I spot Benedict hovering outside.
“That was quick,” I murmur.
I’m assuming he was already on his way, because there is no chance he has driven across Birmingham, regardless of the late time, in less than ten minutes.
I buzz him through and wait for the knock on my office door which appears a few minutes later.
“Come in,” I say, watching when he pushes the door open slightly and takes in the random swivel chair to his left.
“How are you doing?” He stuffs one hand in his pocket and leaves the other rubbing at the greying beard on his chin.
“How do you think I’m doing?” I bark, walking back over to the window.
“It was a shock for both of us, but we wanted to wait till our suspicions were concrete before telling you. I actually received word from our contact just as I was pulling in downstairs.”
I turn toward him and glare. “How did this happen? How the fuck did
we
get caught out by
him
? It’s not on. I’m bloody livid we let something like this carry-on undetected.”
“I understand, Alex. I’m angry too. But these things can’t be helped. People aren’t mind readers. If Ryan has been leading the company forward, who would suspect a sleeping partner who isn’t actually
sleeping
in terms of the business? Nobody would.” Benedict lowers his hand and drops it by his side. He shifts on the balls of his feet, his stance growing seemingly more uncomfortable by the second.
“What do we do now?” I arch an eyebrow and wait for the next epic and mind-blowing bag of shit to come out of Benedict’s mouth.
But he stares at me, blankly.
Thankfully, the buzzer sounds off again, and one glance at the laptop tells me it’s Sean. I buzz him through and wait for him to join us.
He pokes his head round the door a few seconds later and gauges my mood. “I’m better off going home, aren’t I?” he asks, noting the discarded swivel chair.
I shake my head and beckon him inside. “We’ve got shit to sort out. Bring the chair back over with you,” I mutter.
Sean picks up the chair and puts it behind me. He takes a seat on the other side of my desk as does Benedict, but I don’t. I’m pacing back and forth behind my desk, trying to work out what I’m going to do next.
“Do you want me to put in a counter?” Benedict asks a couple of minutes later. “If we can get proof, then Libby’s case wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.”
Sean murmurs his agreement. “I think we need to do something. If she thinks she can get away with this then she’s got another thing coming.”
“Yeah, but it’s not just Libby,” I remind them. “We have Dale involved here, too. We can’t put all of the blame on Libby’s shoulders. I’m pissed as hell, but until I’ve spoken to her, I’m not jumping to conclusions.”
Both men look at each other before turning back to me. “Are you sure?” they both ask in unison.
Am I sure? Good question. I don’t know.
I’ve had my meltdown and now I’m trying to think like a businessman. There is a lot at stake for me. My company and my livelihood being the main interests I want to protect here.
“I want eyes on both of them at all times. From when they leave their house in the morning, till when they get home at night, I want to be watching. Get it sorted,” I demand, glancing between them both. “We need to tread carefully here. If we don’t have proof then we have no argument. Eyes will trail them both and eventually give us what we need. It would be dangerous to go in guns blazing after she has made a case against us. Who will they believe? Certainly not us.”
I watch Sean.
He screws up his face and I know he doesn’t agree with what I’m saying. But knowing him, his way would lead us down the wrong path.
And it isn’t his decision to make.
“Sean, mate, I know you don’t agree, but we need to do what’s best for the company. We are better off keeping quiet for now and calculating the best way to hit them,” I say, rounding the desk and patting him on the shoulder.
He sighs heavily. “I just want to know what that fucker wants. It’s pretty shady.”
“And we weren’t?” I scoff.
“But you said you weren’t going to go through with it anyway,” Sean counters.
“It doesn’t matter what I said. We still had the original intention. And besides, Libby doesn’t know I’ve had second thoughts on the plan anyway,” I reply dismissively.
Benedict stands from his seat. “Let’s call it a night. Alex, I’ll get eyes on both of them from tomorrow.”
I nod and Sean stands as well.
~
Striding into my office the next morning, I take Kelly completely by surprise.
“I wasn’t expecting you back till tomorrow.” She gets up from her desk and hurries to take the paperwork from my hands. “I’ll run out and get you a coffee now,” she says, throwing the paper down on her desk and grabbing her coat.
“Thanks,” I reply, unbuttoning my suit jacket, heading into my office and flicking on the light.
There is a brown envelope waiting for me.
Sitting down, I set up my laptop and don’t waste any time in diving into the package. I pull out a series of A4 sized colour photographs which I spread out on the desk.
I instantly recognise Dale. He hasn’t changed much over the years and still looks the same weedy prick he always was. He’s just wearing fancier suits now.
The time stamp on the photo says two hours ago, which would be seven in the morning, so I have to give Benedict props for getting his shit together.
A photo on the far corner of my desk catches my eye and I’m immediately drawn to it. It’s a picture of Libby coming out of an apartment building this morning, her arm linked with Daniel, but her face expressionless.
“What do we have here, then?” I grab the photo and study it closely. I’m intrigued by her body language. She’s with that bastard, but she doesn’t look happy. She looks ... sad. I’m trying my hardest not to care, but it’s hard. “So you ran to him and played the victim while you were screwing me over?” I crumple the picture in my hands.
I will never let this woman win.
Ever.
My laptop pings and I’m treated to an e-mail from an unknown sender. The e-mail contains multiple photo attachments which I leisurely flick through. There are pictures of Dale heading for coffee; Dale arriving at the gym; Libby and Daniel arriving at the offices of SB. Nothing out of the ordinary, or anything that catches my eye.
Knock. Knock.
My eyes drift toward the door where Jack, one of my main managers, is loitering outside. I nod and gesture for him to come in.
“Sorry to disrupt you, Alex, but I couldn’t see Kelly. Have you got a spare minute?” He stands uncertainly in the doorway like I’m some sort of ticking time bomb.
“You can sit down.” I point to a chair that he sits in. “What can I do for you, Jack?” I lean back, crossing one leg over the other and bridging my fingers.
“I’ve just been on the phone to Steve at Imagine Things and he mentioned a phone call from a Ryan James at Oakley Finance.”
“Interesting.” My body stiffens internally. “So what did he have to say?” I’m trying to play it down, not wanting to alert Jack to the growing problems we are facing with these bastards.