Chapter 4 Fool Me Twice
CHAPTER FOUR
Fool Me Twice
HENRY
“Those bastards!” Lucian growled, storming onto the foredeck and brandishing his phone at me. I put down my triangle of toast and pushed my glasses up my nose, noticing the TechRaker logo at the top of the screen.
“Why is it that everyone seems to be coming to me with complaints about TechRaker?” I sipped my coffee. “Don’t tell me they’ve misnamed Atlas again—thankfully it’s the middle of the night over there, so he won’t have seen it yet. Maybe we can get it rectified before he wakes up to it.”
“I couldn’t care less about that—just read it.” He thrust the phone under my nose. I scanned the article, and as I reached the end, my breakfast turned to lead in my stomach.
I’d known, in theory, that Tickle’s success—and our overnight billionaire status—would attract media attention. But this? There were people I needed to stay hidden from. People who’d use this to find me.
“Call Liv, please,” I said, hoping my voice sounded steady as panic twisted in my gut. “Ask her to get in touch with the legal team, see if they can apply some pressure to have that information removed from the article.”
“Hopefully it’s not too late,” Lucian muttered, his expression dark. My father instantly sprung to mind.
“Hopefully,” I agreed thinly, and Lucian looked down at his phone just as Captain Gillies approached, a frown wrinkling her forehead.
“There’s a woman, Mr Baxter, waiting at the gate. Says she knows you from uni?”
Lucian’s eyes snapped back to mine. “It begins,” he muttered darkly before turning away, his phone to his ear. “Uh … hi, Liv.”
I pushed away my half-eaten toast, my appetite gone.
“Mr Baxter—”
“It’s just Henry,” I muttered, turning in the direction of Captain Gillies.
She smiled tentatively. “Well, I’m just Josie, then. And what do you want us to do about the woman?”
I blew out a breath. “Bring her onboard.”
I was almost positive I knew who it was going to be, and my suspicions were confirmed. Cadence followed Captain Gillies—Josie—up onto the foredeck. Her hazel eyes were wide, and her platinum hair wafted across her face in the Sydney Harbour breeze.
I stood, heart rate spiking, adrenaline flooding me, preparing for battle.
It had been years since we’d last seen each other, and yet she still looked like that fresh-faced student who had crushed my sentimental heart under her heel.
“Hen!” she exclaimed, rushing up to me and throwing her arms around my neck. I stiffened, and she shrank back, biting her lip.
“Sorry. I always forget how much you hate being touched.”
I grunted, taking a seat, needing the table between me and her. It wasn't that I didn’t like being touched, it was just sudden. And she wasn’t someone I wanted touching me anymore. She’d lost that right a long time ago.
“This is incredible!” She pasted on a smile, gesturing around at the Girl on Fire. “You’ve made it, Hen. I knew you would.”
“What do you want, Cadence?” I asked bluntly, in no mood for her games. It had taken me six years—and one spectacularly blindsided dumping—to figure out that games were her specialty. I didn’t repeat mistakes.
Her smile faded, replaced with a dramatic pout. “I’ve missed you, Henny.”
I shook my head. “No, you haven’t. In fact, I recall that the last time we were face to face, you said, and I quote, ‘I wish I hadn’t wasted four years of my youth on you.’”
Cadence’s eyebrows shot up, but at least the pretend pout went away. “And I’ve regretted it for years.”
“And yet, I haven’t heard from you for years … until you suddenly started blowing up my phone, coincidentally right around the time the app took off.”
She dropped into the seat opposite me, pouring herself a glass of iced water from the carafe on the table. She took a sip, watching me over the rim of the glass.
“I’ll ask again, Cadence. What do you want?”
Cadence set the glass down, fingertips drawing patterns in the condensation.
“I was a kid when I left you, Henry. I was a stupid kid who didn’t know what she wanted, and while I understand why you wouldn’t be interested in rekindling anything with me, I do miss you.
I miss your giant brain and the conversations we had.
I miss being able to bounce ideas off you. ”
I leaned back, tucking my hands into my sides like I could hold myself together. That tight, swirling feeling always hit when I wasn’t sure I could believe someone, even if what she was saying sounded genuine.
Trusting people had always come naturally to me—too naturally, according to Lucian. I never saw it as a flaw, wanting to believe the best in people. But over the years, I’d learned the hard way: fool me once, shame on you… fool me twice, shame on me.
I refused to be Cadence’s fool.
“Do you have something specific you wanted to bounce off me?” I asked sharply. “Something related to all the messages you’ve left with my PA about ‘the compatibility of our brands’ and ‘a match made in marketing heaven’?”
She cleared her throat. “Well, it’s kind of true, Hen. And I really think a partnership would—”
“I recall telling Liv to connect you with the ad team. Or—wild idea—just set up an advertiser account like every other business using Tickle for marketing.
Cadence raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I like being on the receiving end of your sarcasm.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m still sure I didn’t like you bringing your side piece to the dinner where I was going to propose.”
“Okay. I deserved that. It was a shitty move, and I know that now with the benefit of hindsight. But I had no idea you wanted to marry me, let alone that you were going to ask me at that dinner … come on, Hen, I was barely twenty-two! I wasn’t ready to settle down.”
“Not with me, anyway,” I muttered, staring down at my cold, unappetising toast. I’d stopped grieving whatever I thought we had a long time ago. But the humiliation? That still sat low in my gut, hot and sour.
Cadence reached across the table, tentatively brushing her fingers over my knuckles. I clenched my jaw, refusing to flinch away from the touch despite it being that featherlight contact that crawled under my skin.
My discomfort must have been written all over my face, though, because she pulled her hand back. “I haven’t settled down with anyone. You and me … that’s been the longest relationship I’ve ever had.”
It’s been the only relationship I’ve ever had, I thought bitterly.
Cadence found it so easy to be intimate with people—not just sexually, although clearly that wasn’t a struggle for her—but she had that kind of outgoing, bubbly personality that people flocked to.
She had a natural ease in socialising. People just seemed to open up to her. It was how she’d wooed me.
Fool me twice …
I stood. “Well, I have a Zoom meeting with Atlas in …” I glanced down at my watch, “ten minutes, and I need to bring the cats up to their run first.”
Cadence got to her feet, eyes lighting up. “Oh! You still have Abs and Trink?”
“Abernathy and Trinket are only seven, that’s barely middle aged for a cat,” I replied indignantly.
“Can I…?” she asked tentatively.
I swallowed, searching for a way to say no without sounding like an arsehole. But my face gave me away.
Cadence nodded with a tiny smile and a shrug. “Never mind. Just… tell them I said hi. And… I’ll look at an advertiser account. It was rude of me to expect special treatment. We’re not friends anymore.”
I said nothing as she saw herself back down the gangplank. There was nothing to say. She was right. We weren’t friends, and I owed her nothing.
“… and Gonzo—what a name, right?” Atlas’s animated face filled the computer screen.
“It’s on his birth certificate and everything—he’s got some crazy good ideas about increasing monetisation.
Honestly, Chewy, the sky’s the limit for Tickle.
They’re all so fucking jealous they weren’t the ones to come up with it! ”
“Hmm,” I mumbled, scratching Trink behind the ears, savouring her rumbling purr and the smooth glide of her fur beneath my fingers. Fresh air could wait until after my meeting with Atlas. After running into Cadence, I needed their comfort more.
“Look, Henry, I know you find this stuff tedious, but it’s important. We’re playing with the big boys now. Shit, we are the big boys! These people are lining up to schmooze me! The Appies are coming up later in the year, and it’s not going to be a good look if you don’t come to Cali for them.”
Abs, sitting on my desk decided he’d had enough of pats and sank his teeth into the fleshy part of my hand—a warning nip.
Wincing at the pain, I moved my hand from his back, and he unceremoniously tumbled off the desk and scuttled into his little cat igloo.
So much for comfort, the pernickety little fiend.
“Are you even listening to me?”
I rubbed my forehead. “Sorry, Atlas, it’s been a morning here. TechRaker published the yacht berth, and Cadence showed up.”
Atlas snorted. “I could’ve put money on her stalking you, the fucking gold digger. What did she want? To try and wheedle her way back into your good graces now you’ve got something she wants?”
I tried not to let those casual words cut me. “She tried bringing up her partnership idea again. I told her to go set up an advertiser account and do what every other sex-toy business is doing—pay for views.”
“Look, I’m with you that we owe her nothing, and honestly, a big fish like Tickle, partnering with a boutique vibrator brand?” He scoffed.
“To be fair, we were a little boutique adults-only app to begin with,” I argued. Not that I wanted to partner with Cadence, but the smug way Atlas called us a ‘big fish’ didn’t sit right with me.
“For all of thirty seconds! Look, maybe we offer her an olive branch … a little charity, if you will. Invite her to your yacht party. She can mingle with some of the local creators, maybe make some connections there, you know? Send them free samples. Might get some free advertising if they film themselves using them.”
My brain screeched to a halt. “Wait … did you just say that you’re inviting Tickle creators onto my yacht?”
“Hey, we’ll rent a berth at Darling Harbour for people to board—no one needs to come to Rushcutters.
” He let out a wry laugh. “Not that it’s exactly private now anyway, fucking TechRaker …
but we’re sprinting towards that three-hundred million subscribers mark.
We could kill two birds with one stone—christen the yacht and host an exclusive Tickle party to celebrate a milestone. ”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Can we not?”
“Fuck me, you’re such a stick in the mud!
I did say exclusive! Invitation only, a heavily vetted guest list. I’m not going to lay out the red carpet for just anyone.
But think of the publicity for Tickle! TechRaker will be salivating at the thought of getting the exclusive.
They’d probably pay for the privilege. They’re rabid for news about the two of us! ”
“So, who’s vetting this list?” I could feel a headache coming on.
“Tell you what. You run a script, pull me a report on all the creators geolocated in the greater Sydney area. I’ll do the heavy lifting and check out all their profiles …
in detail …” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
I rolled my eyes. “And then I’ll send the shortlist back to you with my recommendations, and you can have final veto on every single name on that list. Fair? ”
I blew out a breath. “As fair as you hosting a party at my house is ever going to be.”
Atlas slapped his thigh. “Alright, you’ve got work to do—send me that list asap, and I’ll get to work vetting the talent.”
“Keep the lotion handy,” I quipped. “Chaffing is an on-the-job hazard.”
Atlas guffawed, and without further ado, ended the video chat.
“You’re not seriously letting him turn this into some clusterfuck Atlas shenanigan, are you?”
I glanced up to find Lucian standing, arms folded, in the doorway, a scowl wrinkling his brow.
“I don’t need another conflict today,” I muttered, logging into the Tickle back end. “And he’s right … it would be good publicity.”
“It’s your home, Bax. And what about the cats?” He leaned down and scooped up Trinket, who settled into his arms before turning to give me a look that said, ‘How dare you argue with my favourite human!’
“The cats will be safe in here. You know they’ll just want to hide as soon as people start arriving anyway. We’ll hire security to guard the door. No one in or out of the master suite without express permission.”
“Oh, there’ll be plenty of security,” he growled before tilting his head down to Trink, his gruff expression melting away as he stroked her chin. “Don’t want anything happening to my precious girl.”
I smiled wryly—I was used to Lucian melting for my sleek Siamese by now. “How’d you go with Liv?”
Lucian’s head snapped up, lips parting. “Oh! Uh … yes, she called legal, and they’ve managed to have the article revised …
” He cleared his throat. “But the damage is already done, no doubt. Who knows how many people have already seen it? We’ve already had Cadence show up uninvited, it’s only a matter of time before it’s someone else. ”
I forced the bubble of worry back down into the pit of my stomach.
“The marina is secure; the gate is always locked, so it’s not like anyone can just wander in, and they employ a security firm overnight.
We have the crew on board … we just need to make sure they know that no one is welcome aboard without our say so. ”
Lucian frowned. “I don’t trust their security.”
“Of course you don’t. You don’t trust anyone.”
“With good reason,” he muttered darkly, setting Trink down. “I’m going to organise additional security for the next few weeks.”
“If that will make you feel safer …” I was already focused on the script that would spit out a comprehensive list of every Tickle creator within a day’s drive of Sydney.