Keith snorted. “I don’t think so. Six hundred and fifty thousand plus points?”
Even that small percentage of the company would potentially make him a lot of money. “This is small potatoes compared to what I’ll charge you next time.”
“Oh, you think you’ll get another brilliant idea?”
He nodded, a deep confidence settling inside him. He’d done it once. He could do it again. He could find another business if he wanted to, but there was only one Jillian and he would need every ounce of attention he had to win her back and build a life for them. “I will and I just might make you bid on the next one, asshole.”
A brilliant smile played over his face. “No, you won’t. You wouldn’t do that to your best man. Tell Jill ‘hi’ for me.”
He would. If she didn’t slam the door in his face first.
* * * *
Jill stared at the latest collection notice and wondered who the hell wrote those things. It vowed that her life would erupt and she would be placed in eternal purgatory if she didn’t pay such and such M.D. Sure it used all sorts of polite technical terms like lawsuits and seizing assets, but the truth was purgatory. She could have told them she was already freaking there.
The door opened and the only ray of sunshine in her life made an appearance.
Ashley managed to nudge the door open as she pushed the stroller through, a grocery bag planted firmly on her shoulder. “Hey, big sis. I know this is a change, but I got us some green stuff for dinner.”
Jill shoved the bill into the desk drawer. It wasn’t anything Ashley needed to see. She was stuck in purgatory too. “Seriously? Wow, you are going for healthy, aren’t you?”
“Hey, Trevor finally sent a small fraction of what he owes me in child support. You have to thank that hottie for me. I’m absolutely certain he would have kept changing his phone number if the incredible hunk hadn’t gone after him.”
Simon Weston. Such a nice man. She’d told the hot British Dom her sister’s story of woe one night. He sat at the bar most evenings. He had his habits. He would spend a little time with a sub, rarely the same one twice, and then he’d come and order a pint. Jill had started keeping a six-pack of imported British ale at room temperature just for him. Over the weeks, they had formed a friendship. She’d meant to get a referral for a less wretchedly expensive agency than McKay-Taggart, but Simon had assured her it would be his deepest pleasure to hand “a wanker his arse.” Apparently he’d done just that.
“Are you serious? How much did he send?” Anything would be helpful. Emily had been born premature, and they were still paying for the neonatal unit bills, not to mention the OB/GYN and hospital. She knew most other people would just declare bankruptcy, but that would close a bunch of doors on both of them. It might take years to pay off the debts, but they would come out of it with a clean slate.
She just needed to call again and make new arrangements.
“A thousand,” Ashley said with a smile. “And before you freak out on me. I only spent fifty bucks on groceries and diapers, and the rest of it goes to you for the bills. I’ve been assured we’ll get another payment in two weeks.”
Two thousand a month was a godsend. Oh, she was going to stock that Brit’s favorite beer all of the time. “That’s so wonderful.”
Ashley picked up Em, her little baby’s legs kicking. “So maybe you can quit that job.”
“Quit working at Sanctum?” She hadn’t even thought about it. Even after that mortifying episode with Ryan, she hadn’t thought about quitting. She loved Sanctum. She had friends there. It kept her connected to a lifestyle she still loved, even if she couldn’t participate. What would she do if she couldn’t see him every day?
She winced.
Ashley pointed with her free hand. “There. That’s the look you get when you come home. That’s why you should look for another job.”
A long sigh issued forth. “I love the club. I actually think you should come with me when we can find decent babysitting.”
Ashley shook her head. “No. I’ve been screwed over by one man. I don’t need to find another who would screw me over and spank me while he’s doing it.”
“It’s not like that. The lifestyle is all about communication.”
“Then what happened with you and that Dom? Don’t pretend. I know you were seeing someone. I just don’t know his name.”
Her sister could be like a pit bull when she got curious. It was best to just give her some information and throw her off the scent. “His name was Ryan. I met him at a club. It didn’t work out and now I work at another club and by a crazy coincidence, now he’s my boss.”
Ashley’s eyes got wide, and she covered her baby’s precious ears. “Shit. Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.” She grabbed the grocery bag and wondered if maybe they could splurge on tequila. Probably not, but she damn straight needed a shot. “I signed a contract with Ryan, and I was with him for almost a year. I actually lived with him for a while.”
“And he screwed you over. See. Contracts don’t protect you. How did he communicate that he was dumping you?”
There was a brief knock on the door. Saved by the bell. Jill crossed the very short distance between the kitchen and the front door. “That’s a story for another time.”
“He sounds like a regular asshole to me,” Ashley said. “You’re better off without him.”
Jill didn’t argue, simply opened the door, happy for the distraction. And then she wasn’t happy at all because Ryan was standing in the doorway looking gorgeous and perfectly pressed. It was hard to believe he’d lost his money since he still looked like a high-powered executive in his designer suit.
“Do you actually live here? What are you doing here?” Ryan was frowning fiercely, his eyes taking in every bit of the threadbare apartment.
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” A loud ruckus started two doors down. A man was screaming at the top of his lungs, calling his wife every nasty word in the book. Damn it. The couple in 3B was at it again, and someone would call the police and Ryan would get a front row seat to the whole show. It wasn’t how she wanted him to see her.
Ryan shook his head as though trying to shake something off. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think this building is safe. I walked up three flights of steps, and there were people sleeping in the hallways.”