The Grand Duel (The Grand Men #4)

Chapter 8

EIGHT

Lissie

I sleep in on Saturday morning. Bronwyn paid me, then told me to take tonight off, and honestly, I don’t know if that’s because I totally killed it last night or if it’s her way of letting me down gently that I no longer have a job. They’re short-staffed, so surely she wouldn’t be giving me the night off.

Regardless of the circumstance, I’m oddly glad to have the day and night to myself.

I didn’t go to bed when I got in at four a.m., instead choosing to pack up my things at Ginny’s and then book into the nicest hotel I could find—courtesy of cop boy and his more than generous tip.

I reach across the king-size bed and grab my phone from the hotel nightstand.

Jove picks up on the third ring. “Hello, darling big sister.”

I close my eyes and smile, relaxing into the pillow. “Hey.”

“You sound half asleep.”

“I am. I just woke up.”

There’s a pause. “Isn’t it midday there?”

“It is. I got in late from the club last night.”

She chuckles. “You have something to tell me.”

“What?”

“I can tell. Out with it.”

My smile is wide and ridiculous. “I don’t have anything to tell you. How’s Willow?”

“She’s great. Tell me.”

“Jove!”

Silence.

I sigh, feeling my cheeks redden, knowing there’s no way of keeping it from her. My sister has always known everything there is to know about me and always will. She’s my best friend. “I helped Bronwyn in the private rooms last night.”

She gasps. “You! I knew you’d be bouncing on it the second you told me you got the job there. Tell me fucking everything.”

“We were short-staffed.”

“Skip the boring parts.”

I chuckle. “I chose to be blindfolded.”

“Every time?”

I frown. “What do you mean every time?”

“Like with them all?”

“All?” I repeat in confusion. “Jove, I slept with one man.”

“Oh,” she says, surprised. “Oh,” she says again, sounding disappointed now. “That’s a bit…PG.”

“I can assure you it was not. The motherfucker tipped me!”

“How much?”

“Five grand—two of which was cash . He’s like a bent cop or something.”

“Oh, she BOUNCED.” She cackles down the phone, and I grin up at the ceiling as I listen, the sound like medicine for my soul.

I miss her so much.

“You’ll be off Ginny’s sofa in no time with a few nights like that.”

“I found a hotel early this morning. I’ll only stay a night or two. I get paid a decent wage to work the bar, and it’s an extra grand a night just to work the rooms. If Bronwyn will let me, I’ll pick up the odd night here or there.” I smile. “We should be good, Jove.”

Heat spreads in my chest. Pride, I guess, and knowing my baby sister and niece will always be okay for as long as I have a job under my belt.

“Lissie, you know you don’t have to do this for me, don’t you? I mean, I knew you’d cave the second you told me you got the job there, but if you’re sleeping with men for my benefit alone, I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“It’s not for your benefit alone, Jove. I need a place to live. And I chose to support you.”

“I know. I just don’t want you working yourself to the bone because of me. It feels less exciting when I think about it like that.”

I chuckle at her use of words, and she tuts before laughing along with me.

“Wait…” she says, her laughter easing. “He tipped you five, and you get a grand just for working the rooms…did you get paid six grand last night?”

I did. “As soon as the rest hits the bank, I’ll transfer you half.”

“Lis, you don’t need to. You do enough already, and I’m doing alright.”

“And now you’ll do even better. With the cost of childcare, you’re basically working to pay for those costs. You barely have anything left for you at the end of a month. I know what it’s like to hold down a job and study at the same time, and that’s sans the child.”

She could come home and let me help her, but I don’t say that because I know she doesn’t want to.

“You’re an angel, Lissie. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Maybe if I keep saving, I can book a trip out to see you.”

“Focus on finding somewhere to live first. We’ll figure out seeing each other then. Have you heard anything from Mum recently?”

“Mum?”

“Yeah, I was thinking…”

My phone starts beeping, and I pull it away from my ear to see the call coming in. “Crap, Jove, I need to get this. It’s that place I interviewed for. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“You bet you will. I want details. How have I not had any details?”

I laugh. “I love you, bye.”

I end the call and accept the incoming one. “Hello?”

“Lissie? Oh, Lissie, hi, it’s Edna Harrison from Charles Aldridge. How are you?”

“Edna.” I smile into the phone as I shimmy up the bed, resting back on the headboard. “I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m in a bit of a pickle.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Those trainers you borrowed from me. I know I said they were old and that I didn’t need them, but I didn’t realise that they were my good pair. My favourites, actually.”

I frown. “Oh, right?—”

“Is there any way you could pop back to the office with them? Say Monday morning at nine a.m.?”

I pull the covers back and open my suitcase, checking I packed them up when I left Ginny’s flat. I spot the toe of one poking out from under my hoodie and breathe a sigh of relief. “Yeah, sure, I can pop them in.”

“You’re a star, Lissie.”

I smile, reaching for my hoodie.

“Any luck with a job yet?”

“Yes,” I say with a smile. “I started at The Nightingale a week ago. Thank you so much for the recommendation.”

“You got the job?”

“Just in the bar,” I add quickly, not wanting her to know what I’ve actually been up to. It’s not a complete lie and Bronwyn knew Edna by name, so she can’t be completely innocent as to what goes on at the club. “It’s fun. I like it.”

“Of course. That’s great.” She goes quiet on the phone, and I frown.

“Is everything okay, Edna? I can get these trainers to you today if you’d rather.”

“No, no. Monday, nine a.m. will be fabulous. I’ll see you then.”

I say goodbye and hang up the phone, tossing it to the bed. My entire body is aching, and I know it’s not because of all the shifts I’ve done this week at the club.

It’s because of him.

Cop boy.

Charlie boy.

I chuckle to myself, my cheeks growing hot at the memories.

I’ve had plenty of good sex in the seven years since I had my virginity taken by George Saddington on the night of our school prom, but last night, with him , was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. It was dirty and hot and made me feel so good about myself, my body.

I felt important in his hands.

Even with the outrageous tip, it didn’t feel like a transaction.

It felt like he needed me as much as I needed him.

And I did.

I feel fucking fantastic today.

I pull my hoodie on and drop back to the bed, letting the duvet puff out and mould to my body. I close my eyes and just breathe for a minute, feeling like for the first time since I lost my job and flat that things are looking up.

I arrive early at Charles Aldridge on Monday morning. I worked until midnight on the bar last night but was sent home by Dan when I started coughing. I feel fine this morning bar a bit of a blocked nose, but with the flu going around the club, management weren’t taking any chances.

I push into the building and wait at the reception desk.

“Oh, Lissie,” Edna sings, stepping from her office. “Thank you so much for coming in today. It’s finally warming up out there, isn’t it?”

“Edna, hi!” I reach into my bag for the trainers. “It’s getting there?—”

She catches my arm, halting me, and pulls me forward. “Come on into my office.”

If she offers me champagne, I will say no.

“Can I get you a drink at all?”

“No…” I blink. “Sorry. No, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Great…”

I reach back into my bag and pull out the shoes. “I wore them home that day, and that’s all. I’m so grateful for your kindness, Ed. It was really lovely of you to help me.”

“Nonsense.”

I smile. Although it’s not nonsense. Not to me, anyway.

“I actually lied to you about the shoes.”

I frown. “What?”

“Well, when you left here that day, you seemed a tad bit annoyed at Mr Aldridge—completely warranted, of course, but I knew if I invited you back here with the truth, you’d likely not come.”

“Okay…” I watch her warily. “And the truth…”

She rolls her lips. “Should I get the puppies first? They sweetened you up the last time?—”

“Just tell me,” I say to her as I chuckle. I sit down in the chair opposite her desk. “What is it?”

“I want to offer you the job. For the assistant role.”

My eyes widen.

“I understand you’ve been thoroughly messed around with by us, and I won’t blame you if you turn it down. I also understand you have now found a job which likely pays very well.”

My cheeks heat.

“But I’ve considered all of this and would still like to offer you the opportunity before anyone else.”

Crap. It’s a good job in a field I want to be in. Obscene pay for the role. Secure, with great holiday and bonuses. “Ed, I just started at the club.”

“I know. And if you choose to keep that job, I’ll understand. I’d likely choose that over this place in your position, especially after the way we’ve treated you. But think about the long run. The later nights and long mornings trying to drag yourself out of bed.”

She’s right, the club is unsociable hours. “You’re good at this, you know.”

“I know.”

But what she doesn’t know is that for the past week, I’ve been so tired after working at the club that I’ve slept soundly for over seven hours straight after every shift. I’ve not slept for more than four since I was a child. I like the club. I like that it keeps me and my mind busy at night instead of worrying about Jovie or thinking about things that should’ve been but never were in life. My old job never gave me that freedom.

“I’m sorry, Ed, I love it there. I love what it can offer me.”

God, what am I saying?

She nods. “I understand.”

I look around her office, the files still scattered on her desk and the top of the filing cabinet. I look down at the trainers in my hand.

Kindness, to me, is one of the most important traits a person can possess. You could be the richest person in the world. The bravest. The humblest. But without kindness, what really are you? “I can do both.”

“Both?”

“I work until around one a.m., sometimes two—three, latest. But only four days a week. Fridays and Saturdays are the busiest nights at the club, so I don’t see Bronwyn having a problem with me sticking to those two days.”

Her entire face lights up. “I could come up with a relaxed schedule for the other two days. You start late the morning after a shift and leave early the night before. The salary offer will stand.”

The salary offer will stand?

I grin as she does.

“Will it not be too much, Lissie. That’s?—”

“No. No, it will be fine.” I shut her down quickly, not wanting the chance to think too hard on it. “I need the money right now, and I’d love the opportunity this job brings. It’s the dream eventually.”

She claps her hands together. “Right then, would you like to meet the boss? He’s in office today, and I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”

Charles Aldridge. I’ve not forgotten the asshole’s name. Kind of hard to when it’s above the door. “Sure.”

I follow her down the corridor, glancing at the dogs as we pass and smiling when they both come barrelling towards the gate.

They’ll make the job a little sweeter.

Them, and the pay.

I’m mentally figuring out my shifts for the week, and how I will, in fact, make it work, when Edna knocks on a large mahogany door.

She turns and smiles at me with wide, excited eyes.

The job here offered me forty-five grand a year, which would be close to three grand a month after tax and national insurance. Although with the club as a second job, I’ll be super taxed on that. So two, maybe two-five a month take home. Add that to the three hundred a night I’ll make at The Nightingale four nights a week on the bar—that will be at least a grand a week if I don’t work the rooms.

I won’t have to work the rooms.

The realisation hits me with a slap because bloody hell, I won’t have to work the rooms, and I liked it.

The ache still lingering between my legs. The bruises littering my thighs…

I really, really liked…

“Lissie, meet Charles Aldridge. Owner and founder of this wonderful company.”

My eyes fall on him and…holy. Fuck.

“Hi.” I hold my hand up in an awkward wave, following Edna into the room.

All thoughts of my potential millions evaporate from my brain as my eyes inhale Charles Aldridge. There weren’t many photos on the website or Google, and I presumed he was just a very private man. The only ones I could find were of him with other men at a charity gala event. They were all gorgeous, but it still didn’t put a face to the name.

I have now, though. The face to the name. And it’s devastatingly handsome.

Mr Aldridge is sitting at his desk, and his attention is firmly on me. There’s not a lot of things that’ll throw me off my game, but a man in Armani, dark chocolate hair, messy from frustrated hands, a face that looks like it’s carved from stone—his eyes—crap, his eyes. Blue—striking. This beautiful bastard pissed me off cancelling my interview, messing Edna around, but damn him, he sure looked good doing it.

I wouldn’t say I’ve been ruffled, but my core body temperature just rose about one hundred degrees.

Fucker .

I stand beside Edna and wait as he watches me, his face a mask of…I’m not quite sure what that face is giving off, actually, because he looks like he’s seen a ghost, mixed with a little disdain. Which is ridiculous and rude considering he doesn’t even know me.

I know him, though.

The bastard partially responsible for breaking my favourite pair of shoes.

“Charles…this is Lissie,” Edna probes, clearly trying to get a shred of emotion out of the man.

He looks to her and then me and back to her again, then clears his throat as if he has a bone lodged in it preventing him from talking. “Hi,” he says, deep and unnaturally.

“Is everything okay?” Edna asks, stepping closer. “Is it your nose? I said you were coming down with something. You’re sounding nasally.”

“I’m fine,” he snaps at her, and I rear back.

He looks between the two of us again. “I’m sorry, Ed.” He nods towards a side door. “A word.”

I raise my brow and look to Edna who mouths, “I’m so sorry,” as she follows him through the door. I lean back against the desk and wait.

What an ass.

If I didn’t take this job, I could still save up enough money to find myself somewhere to live.

But then, if I did take it, my take home would be like nothing I’ve ever earned.

I smile, thinking about our Heartlands home.

“I wish we lived there.”

“Where?”

“In that house with the mummy and daddy.”

Jovie was eight when she told me her dream of living in the house we’d walk past on our way home from our parents’ factory. Heartlands was its name. A three-story home with a front garden that was always full of love and life.

It became my dream.

Our independence.

A big fuck-you to Mum and Dad.

I guess it all rides on my tolerance of Charles Aldridge.

I sniffle and turn, searching the desk for a tissue. I find a box and pluck one out and wipe at my nose.

“Please don’t be getting sick,” I pray out loud.

I spot a photo on the sideboard and walk over to it, picking up the frame.

It’s a photo of two children. One slightly older, a toddler, sitting on a sofa with a newborn baby held in his small arms.

His kids?

I scan the office whilst I have the chance and spot another on his desk. I place down the one in my hand and quickly reach for the other, sneaking a look.

A frown takes over my face when I see the picture. It’s sweet, really. A father and his child. A little girl, maybe one year old. They’re on a boat, the child wearing a bright orange baby life jacket whilst he’s all shirtless and gorgeous, the sun kissing his skin and making it glow. He has the child in his arms, heads mashed together, both of their smiles wide and…and real. It’s such a genuine smile it makes my own grow.

“Sorry about that, Lissie.”

I turn with the picture to find Edna shutting the door. I quickly put my hand to my side, tucking the frame in behind my leg.

“It’s fine,” I assure her.

“Mr Aldridge isn’t feeling one hundred percent and has taken Daisy and Luna home for the day.”

“Of course.”

“He’s not always so…”

“Rude,” I finish for her, giving her a It’s okay, I get it smile. “It’s fine. He won’t be the first difficult man I’ve had to work with.”

She smiles sadly. “Do you have time for a coffee? We can figure out a starting date and a schedule that will suit you.”

“Sure.”

She walks ahead and towards the door, and I quickly place the photo frame back down on the desk. As I do, I eye a mobile phone on the desk and a briefcase open on the floor.

I catch up with Edna out in the corridor. “Did you say Mr Aldridge had left for the day?”

She sighs. “Yes. He’s coming down with something.”

Please . “He still doesn’t want an assistant, does he?”

“No. But he told me to find one, and I did. A good one, I think.” She smiles across at me. “Give him an hour, and he’ll be knocking on my door apologising to the both of us. He’s not the boss or man you’ve just seen, I can promise you that. You’ll like it here, Lissie.”

I sure hope so.