The Grand Duel (The Grand Men #4)

Chapter 17

SEVENTEEN

Lissie

“ S o, you work two jobs? One full time?”

I smile down at where Leah is knelt, refilling bottles on the bottom shelf. “It’s not as drastic as you’ve made it sound. My day job is ridiculously well paid for what I do, and this place is more for enjoyment at the end of a day than a job.”

“Tell the truth, Shoes.”

I turn and shoot daggers at Christian. “What’s your problem now?”

He smirks and looks away.

“That’s wild. You must be making a fortune,” Leah concludes, getting up and heading out of the bar and across to an empty table that’s just been vacated.

I chuckle after her.

The club is slowly starting to buzz around me, the bottom level loud with members beginning to wander upstairs. With no one to serve right away, I make my way to Christian and lean over the bar, just staring at him as he surveys the club.

“Are you falling in love, Jovie baby?”

My lips twist, and I shake my head.

He looks up at me. “What?”

I raise my brows. “The truth . I wanna hear it, seeming you know so much about me.”

He shrugs, a little too frank to be playful. “You work yourself to the bone to avoid all your problems—presumably your parents, given you’ve never mentioned them. Nothing revolutionary.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you all up in my shit?”

“You asked.”

“Well, next time I ask for the truth, lie to me.”

I make my way to the other end of the bar where Leah is now standing with one of the other girls, both hands still wrapped around the empty glasses she’s collected. I take them from her, offering her a smile.

There’s a small amount of guilt following me as I carry them to the dishwasher, mostly because Christian isn’t wrong, but also because I’ve never cared or thought to tell him about my parents.

It’s not from lack of trust—not after he told me about his brother, but more a lack of readiness to talk about something so deeply personal.

“Who knows how much he fucking paid!” I overhear the girl say, and I look up to find her eyes widening suggestively.

“I can’t believe that,” Leah says, quieter. “I’ve never known Bronwyn to be so soft.”

“What’s that?” I ask, my interest piqued.

The girl leans in, gesturing for me to come closer. “It’s all very hush-hush, but apparently Dan told Luke that he overheard a conversation between Bronwyn and a male client. He was demanding Bron keep one of the girls out of the rooms.”

I frown. “Can members do that?”

“No!” she whisper-shouts. “But when you’re a copper, I’m going to guess you can do a lot of things you’re not supposed to.”

My jaw drops.

“My bet is Cass. She left like four months ago now and was with him a couple weeks before that. There’s no way it’s not her.”

“How much has he dropped to have her quit, though?” Leah asks. “And would Cass even get the money or Bron?”

“Bronwyn wouldn’t keep it. My guess is that it was a pretty penny, and she’s lying in the sun somewhere right now. Why else would she not come back?”

What in the actual…I’ve asked to work the rooms multiple times since I put myself forward, and Bronwyn has shut me down every time, telling me she didn’t need me.

I slip away from the girls and head for the stairs. Bronwyn doesn’t spend a lot of time on the upper levels of the club, running her business quietly in the background and leaving the likes of Dan and Christian to man the face of the company.

I knock on her office door and wait.

“Come in.”

“Hi,” I say, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. “Could you spare a couple minutes?”

She assesses me for a moment and then sighs. “Sure.”

I walk to her desk, knowing she won’t want her time wasted. “The guy I was with that night I worked in the rooms, the policeman.”

“The policeman?” she echoes.

“Yes. Has he been in since?”

She raises a brow at me, not saying anything.

“Bronwyn, please,” I beg. “I know about the money you were offered. That someone paid to keep one of the girls out of the rooms. Was it him?”

She narrows her gaze. “Are you asking me to break client confidentiality?”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone if you did. Bronwyn, it’s been weeks, and he’s not been back in. I keep thinking it’s me, and I was awful, and that’s why you keep telling me I can’t work the rooms again?—”

She rolls her eyes. “The man tipped you five thousand pounds. Give your head a wobble, girl.”

“Did he pay to keep me out of the rooms? Was it him?”

It was.

I know it was.

She rubs at her forehead. “You’ll receive the payments cash and in instalments. The tax you’d pay on it would be astronomical else.”

I round the chair and sit down. “Why would anyone do that?”

She stares at me.

“What if I want to work the rooms? He can’t stop me surely?”

When Bronwyn stays mute, I sigh and drop my head back, sinking in the chair. What’s happening? Why would he…

“What if I need the extra cash?” I won’t, but?—

“Lissie, it’s four nights on the rooms plus tips for six months. You could quit on the spot and make more money than any of the other girls will make in a year.”

I slowly lift my head. “What did you just say?”

“Twenty-five thousand a week for twenty-six weeks.”

I feel the blood drain from my face, a cold sweat creeping over my body. “I-I… That’s…”

“Six hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Over six months.”

“Six hundred and fifty thousand pounds? What the fuck is wrong with him? Who has that kind of money to spend on sex—no, not sex. Who…who has that kind of money to spend on not having sex?”

I sit back in the chair, perplexed.

“Look, Lissie, I asked many of the same questions. The fact of the matter is the guy is one of my best and long-standing customers, and when faced with an ultimatum—keep you out of the rooms or lose his business—it was a very easy decision to make. You wanted bar work, and you have it. Once I figure out how I navigate the money, I’ll let you know. Now, who told you?”

Shit . “I…forgot.”

Bronwyn stares me down.

“Why would he do that?” I ask again. “What did he say?”

“I don’t remember,” she says, going back to her work.

A lie for a lie.

“He’s not been back in.”

“No.”

“But he will?”

She narrows her eyes on me. “Will it be a problem for you if he does, Lissie?”

I shake my head. “No. Of course not. I just?—”

She holds up her hand, her eyes closing. “I know.” She sighs. “I shouldn’t have let you work the rooms that night. Our girls, as you now know, go through briefing, multiple interviews…It isn’t your fault, and you’ve done nothing wrong. In fact, you’ve…you’ve surprised me.” She nods as if letting the realisation sink in. “I’m not sure you even know what you’ve done.”

What does that mean? She said I’ve not done anything wrong.

“It’s not the first time this has happened, but it’s been a very long time. We’ll go with it. You’ll get paid. Maybe it will all blow over, and one day you’ll be able to work the rooms again.”

“And if it doesn’t blow over? What’s the other side of this?”

She smirks, but it holds warmth, a memory. “A new pair of shoes.”

Money. That’s what she means. “I’m over the shoes.” I wave her off.

She shakes her head as if I’ve not understood her joke. “Don’t worry about this, okay. You’re great on the bar. I need you to stick with it. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”

I nod. “And if he comes in again?—”

“He won’t be in again whilst you are on shift.”

I let out a heavy sigh.

Maybe that’s a good thing. Bronwyn’s clearly not losing his fee, and I’m making…fuck. I chuckle. “Twenty-five thousand a week.”

Her lips twitch. “I was waiting to hear back from my accountant before I told you. It’s tricky being a lump sum.”

It’s a huge amount of money. The sort of money I couldn’t dream about earning.

I’d win.

Just like that.

I stare at the desk in front of me, waiting for the feeling of accomplishment to hit.

Only it doesn’t.

It only feels easy. Like I’ve cheated somehow.

“Christian’s little brother.”

Bronwyn’s eyes lift to mine.

I give her a half smile. “I know they need money for his treatment. I’ve thought about helping before but didn’t want to take that from Christian when he’s working so hard himself.”

Bronwyn twists her head, eyes narrowing, unsure.

I nod, certain it’s the right thing. “A business can donate money and use it as a tax write-off.”

“Lissie—”

“I don’t want the money. Maybe with the information you have, like Christian’s real name, you could figure out a way to donate it anonymously?”

She shakes her head. “How much of it?”

I smile, my heart aching as I heave myself back from a dream I’ve dreamt since walking my little sister home at thirteen. “All of it.”

Christian’s words come back to me from before.

“I like working. I like being too busy to think. I don’t want an excuse to stop.”

Because what then?

Face all my problems?

No, thank you.

“Think on it,” Bronwyn tells me. “Take a couple of days, and if it’s still what you want to do, we’ll figure out a way to donate the money.”

I relax in the chair. “Sure.” Although I already know I won’t change my mind.

I grew up with money. Whilst I loved and grew accustomed to the finer things it brought me, I lost so much as a consequence. One day, I’ll go and buy the shoes, the house, the finest of things, just like Bronwyn said. But I’ll do those things on my own terms.

I’ll buy them because I want them, because they no longer come with a silent price tag.

Charlie

There’s this case. A really important case that’s time-sensitive and needs my eyes on. My problem? My eyes are on her.

Lissie Elton.

“Seven. If the alarm isn’t set, you can call me, and I’ll be back here to kick him out.”

Edna’s face warms as she smiles down at the brunette I’m doing my best to ignore. “I believe you’ll do it too.” She chuckles.

“I will. Now this conference. What would I need to do to set this up?”

I snigger, seemingly forgotten in the room.

“Everything okay, Charles?” Lissie asks, turning.

We lock eyes, a challenge already in hers. “What conference?”

She grins as if I’ve walked right into her perfectly laid trap.

Truth be told, I’d snare myself if it meant she’d smile at me like that again.

“The one you told Ed to decline. Italy.”

“For good reason.”

“Give me one, and I’ll cancel your appointment with the tailor this afternoon.”

I sit back in my chair as I level her with a stare. “Firstly, I’m not going anywhere this afternoon.”

“Respectfully, you’re wrong.” She holds up my diary.

I run my tongue over my top lip. “Secondly, the event is overpriced and inconvenient. I have responsibilities?—”

“I’ve got the dogs,” Edna tells me. “Twisted Phil’s arm into letting them stay with us for the night.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “The dogs are not my only responsibilities.”

“Okay.” Lissie holds up her hands, walking to my desk and sitting in the chair opposite. “I did think about this. Now, I know you normally spend your evenings here, and I considered the fact you might’ve made plans since you agreed to be out of here by seven.” She looks at me pointedly.

“No, I haven’t got any plans. But I need to be around. Just in case.”

“Charles,” Edna tries.

I can tell Lissie wants to ask why.

Who could possibly need me?

“The flight’s short. You could be home in two and a half hours.” Her eyes catch and hold on mine. “I booked you a suite. It’s beautiful—overlooking the sea with a private panoramic terrace, perfect for a short break.”

“I book holidays throughout the year when I want a break, Lissie. Not on a random Monday.”

She gives me a defeated but professional smile, then nods.

I look past her at Edna, her face morphing into a hard glare.

“It’s not a holiday,” Lissie defends. “You’d be there one night, and with the panel you’ve been asked to attend, it would be half a day of work, tops. You’ll be back in the office by midday Thursday.”

I stare at her, knowing it’s possible but not knowing if it’s fair on Edna and her to leave mid-week.

I saw the invite when Edna first sent it over to me, and truth be told, it’s something I’d like to attend.

“Can I do anything? Be on standby for any of the ‘just in case’ responsibilities?” She looks at me with pleading eyes. “I think the panel would be right up your street, and why not take the night away? You work hard.”

“I thought it would be a good time to have the flooring ripped up and replaced in the dog’s playroom. I’ve already called Gavin and told him Lissie will be working from headquarters for the two days, so this place will be empty. I’ll work from home with the dogs.”

I look between the two of them. “How long have you two been scheming?”

They look between one another and chuckle.

“Go let your hair down, Charles,” Edna pleads. “Invite your friends along. You’ve not attended the event since everything with Lance. It’s time you got back to it.” She leaves the room, taking the case I’ve not long finished working on with her.

Once she’s gone, I bring my gaze back to the woman sat opposite me.

“Up to you, Charles. You said you’d give mine and Ed’s way a go.”

“Don’t try to guilt me into it. It’s this week. Wednesday.”

She sits back in the chair, defeat slipping over her face like a mask.

I readjust in the seat, not liking how I’m responsible for it.

“I get it if you have commitments I’m not aware of, but if it’s because of this place—if I can help with the ‘Lance’ thing in any way.” She shrugs. “You can trust us, Charles. We’ve got it all under control.”

We stare off against one another. Her desperately trying to force the chains that tie me to this place from my throat and me looking for any way to pull them that much tighter, to keep the control.

“I’d need to be back early morning on Thursday, not lunchtime.”

Her face lights up.

“What tailor?”

She glances down at her notes. “Lucy Morgan at Venty, per Edna’s recommendation.”

“Good,” I say, and nothing else, sitting forward to refocus on the new case.

When she doesn’t stand to leave, I fight with every fibre of my being not to look up at her.

“Charles?”

My head lifts with ease. I tip my chin up, her winning smile doing something to me I can’t explain or understand. And so, I ignore it.

“Thank you. For trying, I mean. I promise everything will run smoothly back here. It means a lot that you’re trusting us with this.”

A pack of wild tigers could walk into my office right now, and I still wouldn’t be able to tear my eyes away from her as she stands and leaves my office.

I wait, knowing what’s to come…

“You!” Edna jeers. “You’ve got him by the collar, girl.”

Shaking my head, I look back down at the forgotten case, my mind daring me to forget for a little while longer.

Maybe a couple of days away from Lissie Elton is a good thing.

It’s eighteen minutes past five when there’s a knock at my office door.

“Come in.”

I hear scuffling, and then Luna’s head is pushing its way past Lissie and Daisy.

“Lu, come on, we’ve been working on this!” Lissie tells her.

Luna goes to sit at her feet, her tail going a mile a minute.

I sit back in my chair and watch them.

“See. Good girl,” she says, rubbing behind the dog’s ears.

She eventually looks up at me and smiles.

“Heading home for the day?” I ask.

“Soon. I have some things to work on still if you don’t mind me hanging around for a bit tonight. I want to take as little to HQ as possible.”

I frown. “Of course. Do you mind switching out the lights and locking up?”

“Yep.” She takes the keys from me when I hold them out. “You will be leaving at seven tonight, I presume?”

She’s relentless. “If I can get myself caught up here. My assistant keeps making impromptu plans that derail my entire week.”

“What a bitch,” she says, grinning. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Her eyes linger as she backs away, a reluctance in the way she turns and walks from the room.

I frown, watching as both dogs follow.

Kind of get it, though.

When seven ten rolls around and Lissie’s still not been back to say she’s leaving, I stand from my desk and head to her office.

She doesn’t notice me at first, her eyes glued to her computer screen, pen gripped and hovering over her notepad.

“Lissie,” I say before I can allow my brain to admire her.

She startles, blinking up at me. “Sorry.”

“It’s late. Why don’t you get home now?”

She looks down at her watch. “Crap…shit, it is late.” She quickly jots something down then looks back up at her computer screen. “I’ll be a few more minutes. I need to finish this else I’ll be thinking about it all night. I can lock up after myself if you want to head off.”

I eye the dogs lying spread out across the two-seater sofa that’s pushed up against the wall. “I’ll wait.”

I pick up Daisy and lay her across my lap, waiting as she gets comfy again.

“You don’t have a shift at the club tonight?” I ask.

She continues to work as she replies. “Nope. I should probably be at home putting my bed together, but I’m lazy and keep finding anything else to do but that.”

I wish she’d look at me. “You don’t have a bed?”

She shakes her head. “I moved out of my friend’s flat a couple weeks ago. I have a mattress on the floor, and it’s that comfy, I’ve grown a little too accustomed to it.” She frowns at something. “I’ll get it done eventually,” she says, a little distracted.

I watch her.

Her focus is lasered.

She didn’t even know what the time was, and yet I was sat in my office still trying to get my head into my case.

Has she eaten?

My fingers drum on the edge of the sofa as I watch her. “Turn off your computer.”

“What?” she asks, looking up at me as she starts to write quicker.

“You’re going home. You can’t school me on my quality of life and then do the opposite. I’ll help you. We’ll put the bed together.”

She pauses with her pen. “No,” she says whilst simultaneously considering it. “No, you don’t need to do that,” she says, a little more confident. “Your evenings are supposed to be spent on you. Not work things. There must be a million things you want to do with your evening.”

I can think of one very specific thing.

Jesus . “No, let’s go.” I stand and the dogs rouse. “Come on, girls.”

She follows me around the desk and towards the door. “Charles, you don’t have to help me.”

I come to a stop at the door and look down at her, my eyes taking on a life of their own and not knowing where to land on her face. “I know I don’t,” I tell her, my voice betraying me. “But I want to.”

She goes quiet.

I tip my chin up at her. “I don’t need you going to war with me on this. You put up a good duel over everything else.” I focus on her lips. “We can be friends now, you know.”

She swallows, her throat working as she considers the offer. I wonder if I leant in and kissed her throat, if it would still taste like the sun.

“I’m completely fine on the mattress. I’m not kidding when I say how comfortable it is.”

“If I told you I was using a cold bucket of water to shower with at night because my walk-in was broken but that it’s fine because I like it, what would you say?”

She sighs and steps back from me. “Fine.”

I fight my grimace, the stupid fucked-up feeling in my gut as she puts distance between us.

“I’ll get my things. Wait here.” I leave her office and head for my own, wondering what the fuck I think I’m doing.