Tempted

Alex

It’s our last day in Saint-Tropez. I’m having coffee on our hotel room’s balcony while Hailee gets ready for the day. We’d spent the last two weeks on the Mediterranean, lounging, talking, and screwing our way through seaside towns painted in pastel colors.

I’ve been… idle.

I guess that’s the word. Business has taken a back seat. I haven’t abandoned Hailee to spend the days by herself like I was forced to in Switzerland.

In fact, I find it hard to leave her side. I’ll go for an hour-long run and feel like I haven’t seen her in days. I get back to find her still wrapped naked in the sheets with indentations of the bedding tattooing her skin with swirls.

I wake her and make good use of my sweaty warm body so I don’t have to shower twice.

It’s been one long dream. I’m not going to lie. Having this girl at my side gives my idleness a new kind of feeling. Contentment.

But beneath this dating, I can’t help but feel we are using each other as an escape. She’s not ready to restart her career.

And my reasons… I can’t even admit them to myself. I’m living a lie. Lying to myself and to Hailee.

It can’t go on like this forever. Even if we keep up this level of contact when we go back to New York, eventually the house of cards will fall.

The indictments have been brought down. Ford Senior and Junior were both arrested, charged with a laundry list of felony fraud charges, and then released after their bails were paid in full.

Some justice system. Those fuckers should be in jail shoes and jumpsuits right now. It looks like they’re being used as scapegoats by the bigger banks. Every collapse has its fall guy, and none of the bigger fish are going to fry for this.

But Summit Bank isn’t big enough to swim. Especially since the hard-ass Lansky was selected as the judge for their case.

I received an email invitation to the grand opening of a new casino in Monaco several weeks ago, and my friend James Callaway is there and texted me if I’ll be attending.

We’re only two hours away, yet I still wasn’t going to go until James let me know the guest list.

Two Middle Eastern crown princes. One former president. Three bank CEOs. And of course, a handful of dukes, duchesses, and douchebags. It’s the bank CEOs that interest me. The Fords are supposed to be there.

I had planned to go to their hearing next month. They were probably sure they’d only be charged with a measly one million dollar fine and a finger wag when this started.

But the judge they’re up against isn’t so lenient, and they know it. He does something hardly any New York judge does and follows the proper sentencing guidelines for crimes regardless of the individual’s wealth.

But perhaps greater than my want to see the Fords squirm is a desire to put Hailee in a ten-thousand-dollar dress.

I’ve learned I like her even when she’s wearing coffee-stained sweatpants, but when she dresses to the nines, her looks can silence a room.

I’m excited about the prospect of getting her gifts. It’s like when I bought her that watch. The entire time it’s being wrapped up by a white-gloved hand, I’m just thinking of her smile. Those brown eyes, softening, looking up at me with a genuine you shouldn’t have .

I go back inside and see Hailee tilting her head sideways as she puts in an earring.

“There’s a casino grand opening in Monaco tonight. We’re invited.”

“Are we attending?”

I can read her well enough. I’m sure she wonders why we would deviate from our current nightly routine, where we have a nice dinner at a candlelit table by the beach and then spend three hours in bed together.

After all, I don’t want Ford Junior trying to get under Hailee’s skin again. And we’re not at a fundraiser in New York this time. If he fucks up, I might just kill him.

“It’s a big event. All the world’s royalty will be there.”

“And you want to show me off?”

“Maybe. Have you ever met Bill Clinton?”

“No, why? Will he be there?”

“Yes. But he’ll hit on you, be warned.”

“Doesn’t that piss you off?”

“I’m not even immune to his charm. It’s hard to explain it. The man has hit on two of my dates before, and I just slap his shoulder like he’s my old buddy. I swear the dirty old man has a magic potion.”

“That would explain things well, actually.”

“We’ll head up to Monaco early so you can get some shopping done. It’s a casino opening in Europe. I don’t even think the doors open until ten.”

“Perfect,” Hailee says. I’ve known her well enough to tell when her tone is fake. She’s not excited.

I already feel far more deflated than when I woke up. This was a bad idea. Hailee isn’t thrilled, and I haven’t told her the worst part yet. “And just so you know, your ex, Ford, he might be there. But you’re not leaving my side this time.”

Hailee is quiet. She puts her bottom lip in her mouth. “Alright. Fine.”

“Are you okay?”

“It sounds like a lot, is all.”

“This life is a lot sometimes. With my kind of money, you either show your face and build your image or retreat into a castle in the woods.” My voice is harsher than I had hoped it would be. But if Hailee is going to date me, she’s going to have to show her face at the pomp and circumstance.

Hailee shrugs. “The castle in the woods sounds preferable.”

“Maybe to you.” Again, there’s an unintentional anger in my words. This mix of business and Hailee was a bad idea, but the plan was already out of my mouth, and I felt too proud to take it back.

She looks down and away from me. Hurt. I should wrap my arms around her. Kiss her forehead. Call the evening off and rent a catamaran for the evening.

Instead, I brush by her to the door.

“I’m going to the lobby to call the car around. Can you be down in a half an hour, bags packed, ready to go?”

She nods in response with her head angled towards me, but her eyes are far away.

“Good,” I say, like a bastard, and close the door. It’s the stress. I opened that damn email invitation from James, and it infected me like a sickness.

We make up, mostly, on the drive to Monaco. We’re not kissing in the back seat while the partition is up like we have on this trip, but we talk normally, at least.

Hailee’s no idiot. She can tell something bigger is bothering me, but she avoids the subject, which I’m thankful for.

We’re staying at the Hotel Monte Carlo. Even my money has its limits in this city. Getting a penthouse last minute was not a possibility. We’re in a king suite instead.

There’s a silence between us. A bit of dread perhaps on both our parts regarding tonight. I open my wallet and hold out my American Express Black card to Hailee.

“You won’t find better dress shops in the world. I know you don’t have time to tailor anything, but in a town like this, you’d be surprised what you can get off the rack.”

She looks at the credit card and then back to me. “Are you telling me to go shopping?”

“Whatever you like. There’s no spend limit.”

She doesn’t move. In fact, she puts her hands on her hips. “, I don’t want to be one of those couples who think they solve their problems with money and gifts.”

“I didn’t think we had a problem.”

“Something’s up with you today. I don’t believe you’re just nervous about a casino grand opening.”

My lies of omission were something I could stomach when questions were never asked. Now that Hailee digs, my guilt is making me sick. “I’m not trying to buy your forgiveness. This card isn’t an apology. It’s an errand. That’s all.”

“Okay.” She takes the card and holds it in both hands. “Promise me we’re not going to let important things go unsaid.”

“I promise,” I say. The lie is like a bed of nails on my back.

“Okay.” She steps towards me and goes on her tiptoes to give me a quick kiss. When she leaves, I take two mini bottles of scotch from the mini-fridge and make myself a double. I sit with the blinds closed and the air conditioning humming and sip my scotch in the dark like a drunk.

All this time in Europe, I’ve known it would happen, but I like Hailee twice as much as when we first landed in Geneva. Yet there’s still nothing I can do to keep it all from crashing down.

***

It's nine thirty in the evening, and I’m waiting down in the marble lobby while Hailee gets dressed. She didn’t show me anything she bought.

I know she has taste, and I have faith she picked perfectly for a social event as big as this. I’ve already run into a few people I know and had to shake hands and make small talk, all while the pit in my stomach has grown a mile deep.

I already miss the last two weeks. It feels like a spell was broken when I suggested we come here. I suppose one was. Tonight is a reminder of reality, and now I’m facing it.

I’m in a white tux with a black bowtie. I picked it because after all this time in the sun, my skin is a dark gold that contrasts great against the light suit.

I check my watch, thinking we’re running late, right as the elevator dings and the gold doors open.

Hailee walks forward in a dark-red dress. Her eyes are darkened with shadow, and her lips are a matching wine red. The way her hair curls past her shoulders… I’m in awe.

I’m staring like a goddamn schoolboy. I almost have to shake my head like a cartoon character overcoming a concussion to regain my focus.

She steps to me, and then I remember she’s mine.

I can kiss her. And that’s exactly what I do. I put my hands on the diamond necklace that rings her neck and pull her, not all that gently, to my lips.

“You look incredible.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re going to get me in trouble tonight.”

“That wasn’t my intention. Oh, and don’t worry.” She pinches the diamond necklace. “They’re rented.”

“They don’t have to be.” I kiss her again, and I remember why I’ve kept this lie going. I’m intoxicated by her.

We take the car and come to a stop a hundred yards from the entrance to the grand opening of The Sapphire.

There’s a red carpet and photographers, and it takes us twenty minutes to move one block.

When it’s our turn, we step out together, and Hailee wraps both arms around mine as we walk up the stairs. European paparazzi are even louder than their American counterparts. They shout and smoke and elbow each other.

Once we’re inside, it’s like being on another planet. There’s soft chatter and a chamber orchestra. The casino is mostly slots, but the party is being held by the green felt.

Craps. Blackjack. Roulette.

They have dealers, and the tables are already full. There’s oil money Texans in their Stensons sitting next to their Arabian counterparts hooded in their red and white keffiyehs.

“I’ve always wanted to blow on dice for good luck. You know, like in the movies?” Hailee says. “What game is that?”

“Craps.”

“You want to play?”

I look around the room for the Fords, but they’re not in sight. Neither is James. But knowing him, he won’t show until midnight. “Sure.” I take Hailee by the arm and lead her to the craps table.

There’s a short queue, and we’ll have to wait a turn. “I’ll grab us some drinks. I’ll be back in two minutes.” I figure that’s all the time I could be away without someone trying to chat her up.

I buy two cigars from the vendor by the bar while I get us drinks. When I come back puffing, it’s been a little more than two minutes, and I find the octogenarian president of the Bank of Hong Kong talking to Hailee.

These wrinkled dust bags and their lust for twenty-something-year-old women. I almost want to bat him away with a newspaper.

Bad dog. Down boy. Gravity has left his face all jowls anyway, like a bloodhound.

“Michael Chin.” I say his name like he’s an old friend I didn’t expect to see. I shake his hand before he can offer his.

My interruption leaves him looking bewildered, like someone woke him up from his nap at the nursing home too early.

“Oh, hello. This is your date, then?”

“My sister, actually,” I say and give Hailee a passionate kiss.

I turn back to Mr. Chin. He’s frozen. Like he’s too ancient to process exactly what he saw. But he knew it wasn’t right. “Right, then,” he says and wanders off with shuffling feet in search of a butterscotch.

“What is wrong with you?” Hailee says, but she’s laughing.

“I’m an expert at getting people not to talk to me. It’s just as important as charm. Time here is money. Literally. You see that man over there?” I point to a tall guy with a big belly and black beard. “That’s the son of the president of Turkey. He’s also best friends with the current leader of Uzbekistan. I want to win the contract for the uranium mine there. So…”

“So that extra cigar isn’t for me?”

“No.” Luckily, I know Demir. He’s an excellent chess player, and I played him to a two-hour stalemate once when he was at my cigar club in New York.

I raise my arm the next time he looks away from his conversation, and he smiles. In another minute, he’s making his way over to us.

“!” he says, and we shake hands. “We have a chess game to finish.”

“That we do. Demir, this is my girlfriend, Hailee.” That hasn’t gotten old. I expected the label to get stuck in my throat the first time I introduced Hailee as my girlfriend, but it comes out like a ribbon of silk.

“It’s very nice to meet you.” She and Demir shake hands. “I’m glad you’re not caught up in that mess like the papers first said you were, .”

“It took them long enough to figure out.”

“Yes. I hear you lost out on that lithium mine because of it. The Bolivian one. You should sue the Times to the ground for damages. Lousy bastards. It’s all so crazy. You must’ve heard about the judge in the Fords’ case, yes?”

I go rigid. “Judge Lansky? I don’t think I have.”

“He had a stroke just a few hours ago. Apparently, he’s still in the hospital. He hasn’t woken up yet. No matter what happens with him, the Fords will be facing a new judge for sentencing. Rumor has it already it’ll be Adkins.”

“Adkins?”

“I hear he’s a softy on the Wall Street types.” Demir nudges my ribs. “Those boys really lucked out.”

“Who told you all this?”

He looks around and points. Chester Ford Junior is leaning against an empty blackjack table. Cigar in one hand. Bourbon in the other.

We lock eyes, and he gives me a Cheshire cat smile.

“The Fords themselves.”

I’m not even thinking. I’m walking towards Chester with a skull-cracking rage pulsing in my knuckles. Judge Lansky was a good man in a world of crooks. This stroke feels like no accident. If it wasn’t for my plan, my ideas… The man might not be lying in a hospital bed.

I’m already in Chester’s face. He’s confident enough after this win to not back down.

“Howdy, .”

“You son of a bitch.”

“So you heard? Shame about the judge. He was a smoker for thirty years. Goes to show even if you quit, they can still catch ya. But one man’s bad fortune is another’s good luck.”

“You’ll rot for what you did.”

“There’s no feasible way to induce a stroke, . Our hands are clean. God’s just on our side.”

“I’m not talking about legally. You’re going to rot in hell for everything you’ve ever done. I promise you that, Chester .” I say his ancestral name like it’s an insult.

“Good luck, .” He sips his whiskey. “And tell your whore girlfriend good job. She looks like she costs one thousand bucks an hour tonight.”

I don’t think every thought in my brain has ever been erased so quickly.

I see red and take a quick step to him. I throw one hand on his throat and squeeze until he coughs. He can’t breathe, and the way I have him pinned against the table makes it hard for him to thrash and struggle. His bourbon glass hits the carpet with a muted thunk.

I grab his wrist with my free hand to keep him from sticking me with his burning cigar.

“I’d send you to hell right here if it weren’t for the dozen cameras in the ceiling, you fat fuck.” I give him a push before letting go, and he coughs violently.

When he looks up, the victory is gone from his gaze, but I’m surprised to see he still has the gall to look me in the eye. He still looks confident enough to retaliate. Not here of course. He is far too much of a pussy for that.

“You like her.” Chester tries to laugh while clearing his throat, but it’s weak and fake. “That’s a shame. Your trick won’t last. She’ll learn you’re the devil, Blackwell.”

“I’m not the one who blows up a mine full of innocent people to win a fucking contract. You keep talking, Ford, but you’re done. I don’t know how and I don’t know where, but you better strike first and you better not miss, because I won’t.”

He doesn’t have a rebuttal. He rubs his throat as I walk away. A few people nearest to us saw our altercation, but I think Hailee and Demir had been too busy talking to each other. They didn’t see. It was only about ten seconds of me strangling Ford Junior.

The rest of the evening is an acting class for me. I’ve got to pull it together. Hailee didn’t dress up this nicely for me to make her turn around just after we got here.

Demir has Hailee laughing. I don’t necessarily trust the man. I’m sure he’d love to steal a woman as beautiful as Hailee from me if he could, but he can’t. I only need to look Hailee in the eye to know she is completely and utterly mine. No words need to be said.

I excuse myself to the bar before I even attempt to enter their conversation.

“One Macallan 18 year,” I say with a five-hundred-euro note wedged in my knuckles.

The bartender starts to pour, and I meet her eye.

“Make it a double.” I give my best grin, and she ends up making it closer to a triple. I’ve got a hundred dollars’ worth of scotch in my hand, but I give her the whole bill, not caring to wait for change.

Everything about my plan revolved around Judge Lansky. Now it is as good as garbage. I’m not sure if the Fords paid a pro to take out Lansky with what looked like a stroke.

To be honest, I think it may have just been bad luck.

Those two kill miners. Those whose own governments won’t even advocate for them. But I’m not sure they have it in them to go after a judge.

I picture the blood clot building over the years. Waiting for the worst possible time in my career to get to the right size to keep the blood from reaching his brain.

Bad luck.

I have a long drink of my scotch. It goes down smooth and gives my empty stomach a tangible fire to the fury I feel.

I should’ve kept this simple and had both daddy and son shot when I had the chance. I got too convoluted, and I paid the price. I wanted them humiliated for their crimes. Imprisoned. Then, after the world knew what failures and bandits they were, I’d have them shanked in the lunch line.

I should’ve gone straight to the shanking. To hell what the world thought of them. It only matters that they pay with their blood.

I keep drinking my scotch until it’s gone and the world is blurry around the edges. I’m not any calmer. My eyes are on Chester Ford Senior. To think these two buffoons are going to keep looting the world…

“Hey,” a soft voice says, and I feel a hand trail gently across my shoulders. Hailee’s slight touch almost makes me shiver. I needed it. I pull her hand to my lips and give it a brief kiss and then run my thumb gently over her knuckles and wrist.

“What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing. I saw the size of that glass of scotch across the room before you downed it.”

“Business. That’s all.”

Her lips purse. She doesn’t like the cryptic answer. I can tell from her silence that she’s weighing something heavier. Like maybe she’s wondering if she can be with a man so willing to keep so much from her.

“Just business…aye?” she says slowly, like she’s giving me a second chance to tell her what’s going on.

I pause. I could take her offer. Explain all this madness. What if I tell her the truth and she doesn’t run? What if this relationship we have doesn’t have to end? I’m clutching at straws boyishly. Deliriously. This woman is not my future because my future is fucked. “Yeah…just business.”

Hailee nods solemnly. Her gaze is distant. It looks like she has reached a conclusion about our relationship. She sets her hands on my shoulder. “How about you introduce me to Bill Clinton and then we ditch this place and walk the Promenade.”

Her suggestion manages to pull a smile out of me, or maybe it’s the scotch finally relaxing my muscles. “Okay, rabbit. Just remember, I told you so about Slick Willie.”

“But I’ve never been hit on by a president.”

“That’s just because you haven’t met one. They’re all dogs. Except W, believe it or not. Very respectful.”

“Really?”

“A good Texan boy through and through.”

“Well, let’s start with the sax player.”

I stand and take her hand as we walk across the casino floor. I let her lead so I can look at her hair cascading and bouncing against her back as she walks.

She must feel my gaze, because she glances over her shoulder with a slight smile.

Her brown eyes flicker like cuts of amber under the bright casino lights. My heart sears, and I tell myself it’s just the scotch.

The anger. The failure. It’s a combination of things, and certainly not the fact that I’m falling in fucking love with this woman.