Chapter Eleven #2
I ask the barista to make us a couple of lattes, then take her back along the corridor to my office. Once we’re inside, I pull her into my arms for a big hug.
“Thank you so much,” I tell her with feeling. “I don’t know how you did that, but you were spectacular.”
“It was ninety percent the truth,” she says. “Don’t worry.”
I move back and look down at her, amused. “Why do you say that?”
“I know you well enough,” she scoffs. “I could tell you were about to spill everything. Guilt got you, didn’t it?”
I nod. “I felt bad lying to them. They’re good people.”
“So are you, Kingi. You have to remember that.” She looks up at me, and for a moment I’m lost in her big green eyes.
It reminds me of when I picked her up outside the restaurant.
Our brief conversation about my bedroom voice, where she admitted she’s not submissive in bed.
The thought made my heart leap, because I have no interest in women like Sabrina who are sexually passive.
I like women who enjoy challenging me, and the thought that Chessie is like that makes my heart leap.
Our kiss was electrifying, and it took incredible willpower to end the kiss and lower her to the floor.
I want to kiss her again.
I can’t, though. Scarlett warned me that I had to be careful not to hurt Chessie.
I know girls like sex as much as guys do, and it’s possible that she might be interested in a short fling, but we’re friends, and if she ends up developing feelings for me, I could lose her, and I don’t want that.
I value her friendship, and I need to be mature about this and remember it’s all an act.
I can’t use her and move on the way I normally do.
The thought makes me uncomfortable, and I lower my arms and move back. She waits for a moment, a frown flickering on her forehead, then goes over and sits on the sofa by the window.
“So have you had anyone else mention the engagement?” I ask, taking one of the armchairs.
“Yeah. Practically everyone I know.” She studies her nails.
“Something bothering you?” I ask.
She shrugs. “They’re all incredibly shocked. ‘Oh my God, Chessie, I don’t believe it, how on earth did you manage to hook someone like that…’” Her lips twist.
I frown, baffled. “You’re kidding me?”
“It surprises you?”
“Well, yeah. You’re gorgeous. You could have any man you laid eyes on.”
She gives a short laugh. “I really couldn’t.” Her expression softens. “But that’s very sweet. It just makes it clear to me how different our backgrounds are, though.”
“I’m not sure what you mean. You’re talking as if I’m some kind of lord and you’re a serving wench. There’s no class system here.”
“Isn’t there? We might not have lords and serving wenches—nice description of me, by the way—but your family is exceptionally wealthy. Mine is very poor. How much money we have bleeds into every part of our lives. It shapes who we are.”
“You’re saying we have a socioeconomic class system,” I say.
“Am I? I guess.”
“Where social standing is based on wealth, income, education, and power. Yes, you’re probably right, we do have that here.”
“There’s no probably about it. We’re not the same, Kingi. I mean, I knew that, especially as your father mentioned it, but I didn’t realize the difference was so marked.”
I look over as there’s a knock at the door, and nod as the barista comes in with our coffees. “Thanks, Nate,” I say, and he leaves them on the coffee table. “Can you close the door behind you?”
“Sure.” He glances at Chessie, smiles, then goes out and closes the door.
She shifts on the sofa. “I should get back to work.”
“Not yet,” I say softly, picking up my coffee and gesturing for her to do the same. “Come on, talk to me.”
She picks up the cardboard takeaway cup and studies the Midnight Club logo on the front.
“I don’t like you saying we’re not the same,” I tell her.
“Money is nothing. It’s ephemeral, and it can be lost as easily as it’s gained.
” As I say the words, I remember that her brother is a gambler, and wince.
“Sorry, I know you’re more than aware of that.
But my point is that it’s not important in the big scheme of things. ”
“That’s so easy to say when you have it!
Of course it’s important, Kingi. I don’t blame you for not understanding; you’ve always had it, and it’s impossible to understand what it’s like to not have something.
But when you don’t have money, it’s all you think about.
Your whole world revolves around it. Do you have enough to pay the rent?
Are you going to wake up tomorrow to a new bill, or will something break down that you have to fix—the car, the washing machine?
You’ve never known what it’s like to have to choose whether to eat or pay the electricity bill. ”
“Jesus, Chess…” The thought that she’s had to do that horrifies me.
“That’s the kind of decision people like me have to make every day.
My decisions aren’t where I’m going on holiday this year, or which car should I buy, or how many dresses do I need?
My choices involve how much money I can afford to give my parents and still have enough to pay for my room.
Saving up the coins in my purse for Christmas presents at the end of the year.
Fighting the urge to put it all on my credit card, because it’s so easy to do that… ” She’s becoming tearful.
“Do you have a lot of debt?” I ask gently.
She rubs her nose. “I’m not too bad. Not as much as some of my friends. I don’t have a student loan, which makes it easier. I do okay, and the money you gave me will help me pay off what little debt I do have. I’m very grateful for that, thank you.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me.”
She sips her coffee. “I suppose I’m just surprised that our worlds are so different now.
When you’re a kid, you don’t think about money.
You’re all equal. And of course I’ve watched you grow up, and seen the Midnight Club being built, and read the headlines.
I knew you were on a different path… I just didn’t realize how different.
And talking to the board, I suppose it sank in how vast that gulf is between us.
I could see that Mikaere didn’t believe us. ”
“That had nothing to do with our financial situations. Mik knows I’ve had a lot of girlfriends, that’s all. He knows how much I want the role, and that I have a reputation for getting what I want by whatever means. It’s nothing to do with you.”
She fiddles with the lid of the cup.
“I understand what you’re saying,” I tell her carefully. “But it’s all so superficial. What really matters in life are the relationships we make, and how we treat our friends and family. You can be the richest person in the world and not have any love in your life.”
She lifts her gaze to mine. “You did not just say that.”
“What?”
“Did you get that from the back of a cereal box?”
I glare at her. “I’m trying to say that money can’t buy everything.”
“Only a person who has money would say that.”
We glower at each other across the coffee table.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” I say carefully. “It’s not my fault I have money. I was born into it. I’m sure you’re right that it’s impossible for me to understand what it’s like not to have it. But I do my best to help others less fortunate than myself.”
She blows out a long breath. “I’m sorry, you’ve been very generous, and it’s not fair of me to criticize you.”
“I don’t mean with you, Chess. You know that the Club is run by the Midnight Circle? A group of wealthy business people in the city?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not just a resort for rich people. Once all the bills are paid, the majority of the proceeds go to charity.”
She stares at me. “What?”
“That’s why we built it. Oliver Huxley runs a club in the city, and he had this idea of bringing in a group of investors to create an exclusive resort that would attract the wealthiest sort of people in the country, and we’d use the profits to help local charities.”
“I didn’t know.”
“We don’t make it public because we’d be overrun with requests.
We pick the charities carefully. One of them is Kāinga Kore.
It attempts to help the homeless have access to laundry, showers, and find a place to stay.
Another is Aotearoa Life, which aims to help people living in hardship have better opportunities and futures.
I personally deal with the boards of those charities, and I visit them frequently and talk to the people who need help.
It’s why we’re having the charity ball next weekend.
I’m not oblivious to the problems of having no money, Chessie. And I try to help where I can.”
Her eyes brim with tears, and she presses her fingers to her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I didn’t mean to make her cry.
I get up and go and sit next to her on the sofa.
“I just don’t want you to think I’m some kind of playboy who only thinks about having a good time, that’s all.
” Something strikes me then. “Do you think badly of me for pulling the wool over the board’s eyes just to get the role? ”
“I get why you’re doing it,” she whispers. It’s not answering the question, though.
I put my arm along the back of the sofa, not around her, but trying to give her comfort.
“I understand. I’ll be honest with you. I was pissed off with the board because I felt they were judging my behavior, and I didn’t feel that any of them was in a position to throw the first stone.
Mikaere had an affair about ten years ago. ”
“Oh shit, really?”
“Yeah, nobody’s supposed to know, but Dad told me. It was with Mik’s sister-in-law, and it caused a real rumpus in the family. He and his brother had a huge fight over it, and it was so bad that the police had to be called. His brother eventually moved to the South Island.”
“My God.”
“Koa has six kids by three different women, so yeah, it felt a bit harsh for him to be judging my way of life.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Moana, at least, practices what she preaches in terms of fidelity, but one of her sons just got done for drunk driving. She doesn’t exactly have the perfect home life either.
And she spends half her time preaching about cultural integrity, but she drives a bloody Range Rover.
Tell me that’s not selling out. I mean, that’s life.
None of us is perfect. I understand that better than anyone.
But it’s just hard to be lectured by people who are supposed to be pillars of the community, but are also flawed, you know? ”
“Yeah,” she says. She lifts her gaze to mine. Her eyes are glassy, full of emotion. “I’m sorry. I’m too quick to judge, and it’s not fair.”
“It’s okay, I’m far from angelic.”
Her lips curve up. “No, angelic is one word I don’t associate with you.”
We study each other, smiling.
“Don’t take any notice of anyone else,” I say softly. “Our story is perfectly plausible.”
“I guess.”
“You don’t think so?” My gaze slides to her mouth. She’s so eminently kissable.
“I think you’re very sweet, but you don’t have any idea of how you appear to others.
You’re such a big personality, Kingi, larger than life in every way possible.
You’re like the sun—when you come into a room, you outshine everyone else.
I’m just a comet shooting through your system.
I’ll be gone in the blink of an eye, but you’ll still be there, blazing your way through the universe.
” She tears her gaze away. “I should get going.”
“Not yet. I wanted to ask you about your ballgown.”
“Don’t worry,” she says. “Scarlett, Lisa, and Ria are taking me shopping on Monday. I rang the shop you suggested and booked an appointment for four p.m.”
“Good.” I nod with satisfaction. “Well, I hope you enjoy it, and have some fun.”
She swallows hard. “We’ll see.”
“One more thing—the guest list. The announcement of an engagement is a joint affair. I’d like you to invite your friends and family. It’s going to be a huge affair anyway, so a few more won’t make any difference to the numbers.”
She blinks. “I’ll think about it.”
“No, Chess, I want you to do it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t be cheeky.”
“Then don’t order me about. I told you I’d think about it, and I will.”
“Okay, well, when you’ve thought about it, give our Events Organizer a list of names and numbers and she’ll contact them with an invite.”
“No, it’s okay, I’ll do it myself.”
“Chess…”
“Stop bossing me about. I’ll speak to you later.” She softens her words by blowing me a kiss, then gets up and leaves the office.
Huffing a sigh, I finish off my coffee, then go back to my desk. I’ve got work to do, and this is all becoming too much of a distraction. Time to put it out of my mind and get stuck into the financial report that’s been sitting on the desk for several days.
Then I think of Chessie’s glassy green eyes and her light-pink, soft mouth, and groan as I sink into my chair. It’s like trying not to think of the number seven—an impossible task.