Her phone rang, and it was a 917 number she didn’t recognize, so she answered in case Clay was borrowing Flynn’s phone. Maybe his cell had died.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Julia! It’s Liam. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
She leaned back and smiled. “Nope. Just enjoying this gorgeous June morning in Manhattan.”
“That was a fun game last night. You play fierce.”
“Why, thank you. I rather enjoyed taking your money from you. Perhaps we’ll be able to play more. Seems I might be moving to Manhattan,” she said, and if she could bottle this feeling—happiness, hope, possibility—and sell it, she’d be rich. Because everyone should want to feel this way. Effervescent.
“You are shitting me,” he said.
She laughed. “Why would I joke about that?”
“Because I was going to ask you if there’s any way you’d consider being my bartender at Speakeasy. That drink you made last night was amazing.”
“Well, you’re easy, then, if I sold you on one drink,” she said, figuring he was joking.
“I’m serious, Julia. Your drink was to-die for, and you also have the right attitude that I want behind the bar. Tough, but friendly. Playful, but not flirty. Smart, but inviting.”
Pride bloomed in her chest. Her luck was changing. She was coming out ahead based on skills, not looks. She was landing options in life, rather than having them taken away from her. Her future was unfurling before her like a smooth open road, the top thrown down and the radio blasting. “Tell me more about the job,” she said, and Liam shared details on the pay, the timing, and his plans.
“Sounds interesting,” she said, playing it cool. “But I do already own a successful bar in San Francisco. I’m a little beyond the just-a-bartender level. I’m not that interested in working for someone when I can work for myself.”
“I could even offer you an ownership stake if you’d like,” he said.
“Let me think about it and get back to you. I’ll have to see what my lawyer thinks,” she said playfully.
“We have the same one. Let’s hope he has the same interests.”
“In any case, I am honored you asked. I’ll get back to you soon.”
She hung up and shook her head, amazed at how this treasure map was revealing itself. And there, in the middle of it all, inside the chest weren’t gems or rubies, but the most precious gift of all—a real love. She was a lucky woman, and this could be her life, here in the Village in New York.
She returned to her people watching. A pretty woman in a little black dress and high heels yawned as she passed Julia, likely wearing last night’s clothes. She wondered how many of these people were neighbors, and if she’d soon get to know the gentleman who owned the cafe, or the guy across the street walking a pug, or this fellow in the black suit coming into view.
But when she looked up to see the face of the man strolling past her, her heart plummeted six feet underground. Then burrowed even farther when the man stopped, his muddy brown eyes on her, his dark hair freshly combed, his suit neatly pressed.
“Red. Fancy meeting you here.”
The voice was an icicle on her skin.
She swallowed back her fear. Nothing to be afraid of. She had his money. That’s all he wanted, anyway. Even if Clay wasn’t here to protect her. He’d be here any minute, and besides, she could handle this.
Charlie crooked his arm at a right angle and looked at his watch. “I am early for our pointless meeting, but I will join you anyway,” he said, pulling out the chair next to her.
“Pointless?”
“So pointless,” he said with a bored sigh. “Except for the handshake part.”
She kept her face stony and impassive, but her mind was whirring. She had no clue what he was hinting at. She didn’t plan on letting on, though. One more time with the poker face for Charlie, because he didn’t deserve her emotions.
She reached into her bra, and took out the bills. “I have what you wanted, and I believe this means we are through.”
He gave her a look as if she were an idiot child, and waved her off. “We are all good,” he said, raising his hand dismissively.
Her eyebrows shot up. Forget hiding her reaction now. “What do you mean?” she asked, as a cab screeched to a stop. “You suddenly decided to forgive my debt?”
He scoffed at her. “That is funny. But I am not a forgiving man. He paid me. Your lawyer. Good man. Better than that ex-boyfriend of yours,” Charlie said, stopping to scratch behind his ear. Julia’s jaw dropped. She was sure she was hearing things. He couldn’t possibly have said just that. “Dillon Whittaker always seemed a little shifty to me. I hear he’s peddling island real estate.”
But the words about Dillon didn’t register, because she was still reeling from the blow. It was as if she’d been punched out of nowhere. A jab to the right. A hit to the left. Her head was spinning, and she was seeing stars.
Then she was seeing Clay. Standing next to her, fists clenched at his sides, staring at Charlie. “We weren’t supposed to meet until eleven,” he said to Charlie through gritted teeth.
“I was out for a stroll since this is such a lovely neighborhood, and look who I ran into,” he said, gesturing to Julia. “Lucky me. I got to spend to spend a few minutes with her. She even tried to pay me. But I had to tell her the matter was already settled between men.”
It was as if a truck had slammed into her, smashing everything in her body.
Clay looked at Julia, and she saw it in his eyes. Guilt. He was cloaked in it. He reeked of it.
“Clay,” she began slowly, but her brain was quickly lining up the pieces, and she had a sickening feeling that she knew what he’d done. “Charlie says— ”
He cut her off. “I can explain,” he said, sitting next to her, reaching for both her hands and clasping them in his.
“What do you have to explain? The fact that you paid him already?” she said heavily, the words like tar in her mouth. She hoped she’d heard wrong. She prayed that Charlie was lying. He was a liar, right? That was a more likely explanation than that her man had lied to her.
He closed his eyes briefly, and the shame washed over his features. It was evident in his mouth, in his eyes, in his jaw. “It was all a fake? The game was rigged?”
Clay shook his head adamantly. “No, the game wasn’t rigged. It was all real. I swear.”