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Authors: Jess Dee

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“I’m not taking control.” He wouldn’t dare. Not when he knew how much Liv valued her independence. “And for the record? I’m happy to turn once into twice. Just say the word.” His body still thrummed with the energy that had blindsided him in her room on Sunday evening.

“Once is staying once. End of story.”

Not if he had any say in the matter. “Let’s focus on one issue at a time. Tell me about your hunger strike.”

“I’m not on a hunger strike.”

“So why you haven’t eaten in weeks?”

“I eat all the time. I ate yesterday.”

“Jesus, Liv. Quit the crap. Talk to me. Tell me what has you tied up in knots.”

Olivia inhaled deeply and glared some more.

James held his breath, anticipating the lecture he knew would follow. Liv was about to insist, most graphically, that he mind his own bloody business.

Instead, she…wilted. Her shoulders drooped, her face fell and she looked at him through sad blue eyes. “It’s all falling apart, Jimmy.”

His heart twisted, a pang of emotion hitting him smack in the chest. “What is?”

“Everything. Work. My life. My future. All of it.”

“How?”

“Beautiful Homes is finished. The business has gone down the toilet in a big way.”

James gaped at her. “I had no idea.”

“No one did. No one does. It’s bad, Jimmy,” she whispered. “Like really, really bad. Worse than you can imagine.”

“Tell me.”

She glanced around, as though making sure no other customers could hear. “Marion lost all the money. Every last cent. There’s nothing left. Not even enough to pay her staff or her creditors. And there are a shitload of unpaid creditors.”

“Is she closing the company?”

“She’s considering lodging a debtor’s petition.”

“Declaring bankruptcy?”

Liv nodded, her blue eyes bleak.

“When?”

“Soon. Maybe next week.”

James took her hands in his. They were ice cold, and he rubbed them several times to warm them up. “Did Marion know the business was in trouble when she offered you a partnership?”

Seven months ago, Marion had offered her the shares and Liv had snapped them up.

Liv sighed. “Her personal finances were in ruin by then, not the business’s. But she knew she’d need more money, which is why she made me the offer in the first place.”

What the fuck? Marion had had ulterior motives? She hadn’t done it because she thought Liv was an awesome interior designer? The knowledge rocked the seat James sat on. The woman who’d taken Liv under her wing and treated her like a daughter for six years had taken callous advantage of her.

Slivers of anger slid through his veins. “And you accepted? Knowing there were problems?”

“God, no. I had no idea. She kept her personal situation very quiet. When Spence and I looked at the books before I invested, everything was fine.”

It made sense Spencer had helped her. He was an accountant, a numbers man through and through.

The waitress arrived with the food, placing their conversation on hold for a few minutes. She set the dishes in the middle of the table and gave them each a plate.

Reluctantly, James released Liv’s hands to reach for a spoon. Much as he wanted to keep on holding them, food was a primary need now. He served Liv a healthy portion of everything and watched with an eagle eye until she dutifully took her first mouthful. And her second.

All the while, he mulled over her situation.

She gave him a small smile. “You can stop watching me. I promise to eat it all.”

He nodded and helped himself to noodles. They ate in silence for a while, James deliberately waiting until she’d cleared at least half her plate before he picked up the conversation.

“So you went into this thinking everything was fine?”

“More than fine.” Liv shook her head, as though she couldn’t believe she’d been such a fool. “She painted a fantastic picture of everything she planned to do with the company. Told me she wanted to grow Beautiful Homes. Hire new designers and move to bigger offices. Maybe even open branches in Melbourne and Canberra. I was salivating before she even offered me a partnership.”

“You wanted in?” Obviously she had, or she’d never have gone ahead with the deal.

“I wanted to make a move. I was tired of being a paid employee. For months I’d been toying with the idea of opening up my own business. You know I love my work. I love what I do, but I was getting restless working for someone else. Then Marion comes to talk to me about this awesome growth opportunity, and asks if I’d like to be a partner in the growth.”

“So you jumped at it.”

Liv ate a few more bites and washed them down with her drink. “I gave it serious consideration. Figured I had two choices. I could invest the money I’d saved over the last six years in a startup business, all alone, while facing a restraint of trade so I couldn’t poach customers from Beautiful Homes. Or I could invest the same money in an established company—that I knew and had helped build. Either way, I’d be an owner, not an employee.” She shrugged. “I chose the safe option.”

“Only it turned out to be a whole lot riskier than starting your own company.”

“Who could have predicted that?”

“Did a lawyer look over the papers?”

“Absolutely. I’d never have done anything without one.”

“So what went wrong?” James couldn’t work it out. Beautiful Homes was a successful business with an established client base and an excellent name.

Liv dug her fork into the curry, but instead of eating, she swirled it around her plate. “She... She gambled it away. Every last cent.”

“Pardon?”

“Marion has a gambling problem. An addiction. She’d been…stable for a long time. Steered clear of tables for the last decade. And then, as she told me a few weeks ago, she had a moment of weakness—and won big.”

Jesus. Marion a gambler? Just went to show how you never knew what went on in another person’s life. “So she went back for more.”

Olivia nodded. “And more, and more, and more.”

“And it was all downhill from there?”

“More like a catastrophic landslide than downhill, but yeah. I found out that the money I invested went straight into her gambling debt fund—just like most of the company profits from the last six months. None of it went into the company. And now—” she waved her fork in the air, “—legal documents show I’m a twenty-five percent owner of Beautiful Homes, which means I owe all those creditors money we just don’t have.”

Christ, what a clusterfuck. “Nope, Liv. Those are her debts, not yours. You don’t owe anyone anything.”

“Tell that to the wholesalers and retailers who won’t stop calling. Tell my clients who want to know what happened to the furniture they paid for that hasn’t been delivered.”

“You’re taking the fall for her addiction?”

She nodded.

His hands curled into fists. James didn’t believe in hitting a woman, ever, but right then he wouldn’t have minded a few minutes alone with Marion. Yeah, he wouldn’t lay a finger on her, but he’d take immense pleasure in scaring the crap out of her.

“I’m ruined, Jimmy. I’m broke and my professional reputation has been shredded.” Liv stared at her fork for a long time, then set it down and pushed her plate away.

“Have you spoken to Spencer about it?” If anyone could give Liv sage advice, it was him.

“A little. I’m meeting with him tomorrow, but for now all he knows is there’s no money left. I haven’t told him about Marion’s gambling problems. He was the one who suggested Marion lodge the petition.”

“He had no other advice?” Like suing the bitch.

“He mentioned finding an investor to either buy us out or offer a loan. But there isn’t a buyer alive who’d take on our debt, and only an idiot would loan a gambler money.”

James considered mentioning laying charges against Marion, but decided he’d wait for Spencer’s advice. James understood building. Spence understood money. Frustration and helplessness rolled in his gut. “Christ, Liv. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Stop referring people to Beautiful Homes. I know you’ve always done it to help us—”

“I refer clients to you—not Marion—because you’re good at what you do.”

“Thank you.” She nodded at the compliment. “But I have to turn clients away now. Refuse the work. And it’s humiliating, explaining that we’ve run into problems.”

“You have nothing to be humiliated about. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I made a bad decision. And I trusted a woman I shouldn’t have.”

“You’ve known her for six years. She’s never given you reason not to trust her before now.”

“I feel like the world’s biggest idiot.”

“You’re not. Not even close. You made a careful business decision based on your experience in the company and it backfired. That’s not your fault.”

“Maybe, but it’s now my problem.”

The muscles in his stomach clenched tight. His friend’s world was falling apart and there wasn’t a single thing he could do to help her.

“Here.” He pushed her plate back toward her. “I can’t make your problems disappear, but I can promise you everything seems a whole lot harder when you don’t look after yourself.”

She shook her head.

“It’s common sense, pretty one. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Nourish your body, take care of the basics so you’re physically strong enough to handle the rest of the crap.”

Liv opened her mouth to argue, but must have seen the determination in his face. She took her fork and ate another bite.

“I guess you were right,” she said a few minutes later, her plate empty. “I was starving.”

“Feel better?”

She gave him a weak smile. “Not really. But it’s the first time this week I’ve discussed work without crying. That’s a good sign.”

“There’s no hope of saving the company?”

“None. Unless someone miraculously finds a quarter of a million dollars stashed away in the offices somewhere.”

“That’s how much Marion lost?”

“That’s a fraction of it. That figure is the amount we’d need to pay off business debts and salaries. She lost a whole lot more, including her car, her house and her marriage.”

Liv yawned twice, and James signaled for the bill, satisfied she’d eaten enough for now.

By the time they reached their building, she looked as though she might fall asleep at her front door.

“Eight forty-three.” James said. “Just in time to get you tucked into bed by nine.”

“I am so ready for bed.” She patted her stomach. “You were right about the food, by the way. I do feel better. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He just wished he could help her with her other problems as easily.

Liv took her keys out and fumbled as she tried to find the right one. James took the bunch from her and opened the door.

The flat was quiet and dark. Ava must still be at yoga. Liv flipped a switch and soft light filled the lounge room. “Well—” she turned to him, “—good night.”

James smiled. “I’m not leaving yet. I promised to tuck you in, and I’m a man of my word.”

“You got me home. That’s good enough.”

“Not for me. Feeding you was only part of the deal. Maslow’s needs, remember?  I still have to ensure you get some sleep. So, head on over to your room, change into your pj’s, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“I’m perfectly capable of falling asleep on my own.”

“Really?” He raised a brow. “When last did you get a good night’s rest?”

“Last night. Or the night before that.”


Or
the night before?”

She shrugged.

“You have circles under your eyes, and you yawned the whole way through dinner. I’m staying until you’re in dreamland.”

She rolled her eyes. “Forgive me for doubting your motives, Jimmy, but somehow I imagine sleep is the last thing on your mind.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “You believe I have ulterior motives?”

“The last time I saw you, you tossed me over your shoulder, hauled me into your flat, stripped me and fucked me. I have no reason to think tonight will be any different.”

“The way I remember it, you did the stripping. And the fucking.” He grinned. “For the record? I loved every second of it.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “For the record? I am not having sex with you tonight.”

“You were too tired to unlock your door. I hardly assumed sex was on the agenda. I will, however, be there until you fall asleep so I can ensure you get the rest your body needs.”

She dropped her arms to her sides. “You motives are that innocent?”

“They are.”

“You won’t try to strip my clothes off?”

He placed one hand over his heart and the other beside his head. “Tonight I do solemnly swear to not remove a single item of clothing from your body.”

She rolled her eyes again—she’d pretty much mastered the art—and opened her mouth to speak. He cut her off. “Liv, stop arguing and go get into your pj’s. You have my word I won’t try get you naked. Okay?”

“I suppose,” she said on another yawn and disappeared into her room. A minute later the door to her ensuite clicked shut.

James gave her a few minutes, then followed her into her bedroom, shut the door and kicked off his shoes. He set his keys and wallet on her bedside table and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

The linen smelled like Liv, floral and fresh, and James inhaled deeply as he waited for her. Her room was chic and comfortable, like the rest of the flat, leading him to marvel at her taste all over again.

It was shamefully unfair that someone as talented as she should be going through all this shit.

Liv walked out of the bathroom dressed in pajamas that almost sent James into cardiac arrest. The pants were candy-striped boxers that only just covered the curve of her ass, and the top was a tiny pink singlet that clearly showed off the outline of her small, braless breasts.

Electricity jolted through him. He couldn’t have hidden his reaction if he’d tried. Liv was staring right at him as his cock roared to life.

“James! You promised.”

“And I keep my promises.” Blood vessels almost exploded in his brain as he struggled to get a hold of his desire. “But you can’t blame a man for reacting to a beautiful woman.”

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