“Or you’ll what?” I snap. “I quit, Jordan. Do you understand? I’m done with both you freaks.” He laughs at that. But I don’t care. “I don’t want to see you anymore. Do not call me here or at home. Do not come by. Let’s just forget we ever met. Now if you’ll excuse me—” I push past him and I’m reaching for the play button on the stereo when he grabs my wrist. “Let go,” I say. My teeth are clenched and my tone is serious.
“Just—” He lets go. Sighs with frustration. “Just listen to me for a moment, OK? Just stop being such a bitch and listen to me.”
“I’m the bitch?” I laugh, that’s how funny that is.
“You are,” he says. “You’re so fucking self-absorbed. You’re so fucking sure you’re winning—”
“I did win. This is a fact. Bric told me himself. Paid me fifty thousand dollars, in fact. Even congratulated me.”
“You lost, sweetie.”
“Don’t patronize me, Jordan. You’re the one who fucked up the game. You’re the one who bowed out early. It was you who threw everything off balance.”
“Fine,” he says, spreading his arms wide. “Fine, I fucked up your game. But did it ever occur to you, Nadia, that I was playing another game? Hmm?”
I squint my eyes at him.
“That’s right,” he says. “I had another reason for what I was doing. I have a big case, sure. And that guy needs my help. But do you really think I’d let a client come between me and my personal life, Nadia? Do you not know me at all?”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No,” he says, dropping the anger from his voice. “You don’t. Because I never told you. Or Bric,” he quickly adds. “He didn’t know either.”
“What the hell?” I say. “You’re using us? Why? For what end?”
“If you stop being so self-righteous for a second, I’ll tell you. Are you gonna be calm and listen? Because if you’re just hell-bent on walking out, then forget it. The game really is over and you don’t need to know.”
This is when I realize… he needs me. He needs my help in something. And that something has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Elias Bricman. “OK,” I say, letting out a long sigh. “Fine.”
“Fine as in you’re gonna listen?” he asks. “Or fine as in you’re gonna help me?”
“Help you,” I say. “If I can.”
“You can, Nadia.” And now he unleashes that grin on me. The same grin that got me all hot and bothered the very first time I met him. “You’re perfect. You’re exactly what I need. It’s the whole reason I brought you here.”
“Brought me here?” I’m confused.
“Of course,” he says, placing a hand on my cheek. “You’re a good dancer, Nadia. Great, actually. You were gonna go far no matter what. But yes, I got you this job. I got you that apartment. I got you involved in my game. And then I got you involved in Bric’s game.”
“Why?” I ask. “Just what the—”
“Shhh,” he says, placing two fingertips over my lips. “You said you were gonna listen, remember?”
I blink at him, my mind a whirlwind of what-the-fucks. “I’m listening.”
So he tells me. He tells me everything. He gathers up my things, walks me out of the studio, still talking, takes me to dinner at a little Chinese place down the street, and explains.
And when he gets to the end of his story, he says, “Now tell me how the fuck you got Bric to take you home with him.”
So I do. And it’s his turn to listen and put everything in place.
Finally, after what seems like hours of talking, he says, “OK, this is what we need to do.” And he explains his new plan for Bric. “Are you still out? Or can I count on you to help me?”
It’s… clever. I have to give him that. Slightly diabolical. Definitely on the edge of evil. But it’s also brilliant all the way around.
So I say, “I’m in. You can count on me.”
Because Elias Bricman deserves this. He really does.
It’s his turn to understand that the game he’s been playing all these years reaps nothing but destruction.
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Bric
“Abrem,” I say into the phone. “Call me back, asshole. I’m trying to apologize, OK? I’m sorry. I fucked up. Just…”
Fuck it. I end the call and slide my phone across my desk. I’ve been trying to call him all week. He won’t pick up. I even tried blocking my number before I call, but I guess he’s not as stupid as I make him out to be. He never picks those up either.
I’ve also tried calling Benjamin, Jason, Candace, and Gaius. None of them picked up. I know Hannah won’t take my call. I vaguely remember her spitting insults at me after the funeral. And I’m not that close with Felix, Delilah, and Keren so I don’t even bother with them… yet. I might have to resort to Delilah if Abrem or Benjamin don’t call me back soon.
I feel like shit. And not because I’ve been drinking since I got home from Montana. I feel like shit for taking Nadia up there. Bringing my problems up there. Using her, and them, and Luc’s death.
Especially Luc’s death. I’m such an asshole. They are never going to forgive me. Ever. I can still see the hurt look on Sylvia’s face. Charity’s disapproving frown. Either of them could be my real mother, which is why it bothers me. I know neither Megan nor Donna is my mother. They came after I was born.
It was a rule all growing up that we had to call them all Mother. We were David Bricman’s children, they were all David Bricman’s wives—though not legally, of course. But in that house, they were equals. And they were all Mother.
I am, and have always been, their biggest disappointment. Not even Gaius or Felix can come close to the disappointment I’ve caused. When I told Chella they didn’t know what I do, I probably lied. Or… pretended, maybe. Either way, they have to know what I do. What I am.
“Knock, knock.”
I look up at the open door of my office and, speak of the devil, find Chella leaning against the wall.
“Can I come in?” she asks.
“Of course,” I say, waving a hand at one of the two chairs in front of my desk. “What’s on your mind?”
Chella takes a seat, crosses those long legs of hers, and smiles at me. “I’d like to invite you to dinner.”
“Yeah?” I say, smiling for the first time today. “When?”
Chella holds up a hand. “But there’s conditions.”
I scowl at her. “What kind of conditions?”
“You have to bring a date.”
“What?”
“Specifically, Nadia Wolfe. She’s the new player, right?”
“How the fuck do you know about Nadia?”
“I met her, remember? At the Club last weekend? And she came into the Tea Room this afternoon.”
“What?” Jesus Christ, this is all I need.
“Looking for me and Rochelle.”
“What the fuck?” I say, more to myself than Chella.
“I guess you guys had a fight?” Chella says. “And she came looking for insight. You know, to try to patch things up between the two of you.”
“No,” I say, standing up. I’m ready to go over to Nadia’s work and tear her up for this. “I’m sorry about that, Chella. I really am. Our game is over and I’m done. She should know better than to come back after the game ends. I guess I just need to make things crystal clear.”