“If he calls, just pass the message on. Any trouble from that ponce, you call me, right. As far as I’m concerned, you and me have no axe to grind, mate, you get on with your business, it doesn’t interest me one bit, but you make sure you tell Jay you’re working for me from now on, got it, and trust me, once he hears that you will get no trouble at all, mate.” Dropping his card onto the table, he let himself out.
“Right.” Breathing a huge sigh, Robbie was relieved that he no longer had to break his neck trying to get Jay’s dough together before he could think about his own money. So when the call from Jay came in, Robbie Challis enjoyed every word. As he inhaled one of the biggest spliffs he had ever rolled, this one of course for celebration purposes, he said down the phone:
“Jay? Sorry, Jay who?”
Riled, Jay thought the bloke must be truly fucking stoned to be talking like this.
“You listen to me, you fucking waster,” he began, but before he could finish his sentence he was interrupted by a slow cackle.
“Why don’t you just fuck off, Jay, you poncing cunt,” Challis said, slowly and clearly so that Jay could take every syllable in. “Billy says he’s personally collecting the money from now on, any problems with that and you take it up with him. So you, you fucking mug, can do one.”
Hearing the dialling tone, Jay realised that Challis had hung up. He was shitting himself, his worst thoughts had been confirmed and he had a terrible feeling that this was just the start of things to come. This was turning into a bitch of a day.
35
The saucy brunette was using every trick in the book. She had on a low-cut top and a very pert pair of breasts spilled over of it every time she leaned forward. She had been flicking her hair and pouting for the best part of the evening but, to be honest, Paul found it more entertaining than anything else. She was a very attractive girl, he would be a liar to deny that, and it was good for his ego to know that he still had it, but he had met dozens like her and she was nothing special.
It never failed to surprise him that so many girls tried it on with him as soon as they realised this club was his. He was more shocked that they seemed to be completely unaware of how obvious they were. Gold-diggers of the worst kind, they were more transparent than the fucking windows.
Peeling himself away from the disappointed girl at the bar, insisting he had work that needed his attention, he made his way to the sanctuary of his office. Pouring himself a whiskey, he went through his e-mails half-heartedly. He glanced at the clock and then back at the computer screen; tapping his fingers on the desk, he chuckled to himself. He had just realised that if anyone had been here to see him they would have just witnessed the look of a lovesick man. He knew that he had been doing nothing but mope, he could admit to himself that he was feeling lost without Kate. She was having a few days off, she had rung and explained that she needed to help her friend, and after hearing the story Paul said he would help her in any way possible. Kate had also asked whether, when she came back to work, she could bring Emma for a trial behind the bar to see if she was up to it. He had agreed without question; they could always do with extra hands, the place was booming, and if Kate thought Emma was up to it that was good enough for him. Paul had told Kate that if there was anything she needed she should call him. She hadn’t, though. Which was, obviously, a good thing, but he had hoped that she would have called by now. He missed her. She had her brother to look out for her, but Paul was her friend: they had become close. He knew that if he hadn’t heard anything from her, though, it meant she was okay.
Paul realised that he wanted Kate to call just so he could hear her voice. He also realised that he had, somehow when he wasn’t looking, turned into a soppy bastard. Laughing once again, he knew that at some point he had fallen for her. He hadn’t known until now how much he loved being around her, working with her, laughing with her, talking for hours about anything and everything. He hadn’t felt like this about anyone for a long time and it had really shocked him. He had only been in love once, and he had been hurt badly: some might say beyond repair. His ex, Caroline, had taken him for a complete ride, she had cheated on him with anyone that had a pulse. He had been oblivious, completely unaware of what had been going on behind his back throughout their relationship. He had been so busy trying to build up his career, working every hour that he could, that he had no idea what she had been getting up to. Paul had wanted desperately to make a decent living so that he could provide for her and for his now broken family. Sophia, his beautiful baby… it broke his heart to think of her, she deserved more than what they had given her. It had been such a mess, when he finally found out the truth about Caroline sleeping her way through the city, through a work contact of all people who was trying to do him a favour, he had confronted Caroline, half expecting her to be sorry. At the least she could have sounded apologetic. He expected her to beg him to stay with her and to say that she had made an awful mistake. Paul had been full of rage at the betrayal, yet somewhere inside, he thought that if she was sorry and if she hadn’t meant to hurt him, maybe he could fix things. After all, he had done nothing but work twenty-four seven for months; even if it had been for both of them, he hadn’t been there for her. The last thing he had expected when he had confronted her was her laughing in his face and sneering at him that it was entirely his fault. Caroline had blamed him for all of it; none of it had been her fault. She had screamed at him in anger that it was he who had driven her to sleep with other men. He had neglected her; he had never been there; she had been lonely. She reeled off a list of her conquests whilst slugging a gin and tonic, all the time staring into his eyes triumphantly. He had stood in front of her a broken man, realising that this was nothing more than a game. Paul had tried to be a good husband; she had tried to score points. He had known then that it was all pointless; it had been for nothing. Paul had never known her. So he had walked away, and he had never looked back. Since then he had never trusted a woman, and he had thrown himself even more into building his career. He had found success, had more money than he could have wished for, but he had learnt the hard way that there was more to life than money and clubs. If he did get a chance at love again, he would put that first above everything. He wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking money was showing your love. Money wouldn’t keep you warm after a hard day at work, and he didn’t want to grow old alone.
Paul never mentioned his beautiful Sophia to anyone; she was his private business. He had kept her and everything about her close to his heart, but he had felt lately that he could tell Kate, they had become so close; there were times when he almost had told her. She had her own stuff going on, though, what with her losing the baby, and he had never felt it the right time: one day maybe he would.
Deciding rather than moping in the office all alone, he would pick up the phone to give her a call to see how she was doing, he downed his whiskey and dialled.
“Ooh, someone has a little crush on you,” giggled Emma. Kate blushed as she put down her mobile phone. She had been on the phone to Paul for at least twenty minutes, catching up on the gossip from the club. Although it had only been a few days, she felt as though she had been away forever.
“Don’t be so silly; he’s my boss, and he’s just checking to see how I am.” Kate could feel her cheeks burning and knew that her friend was nowhere near convinced.