Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I ’m tempted to run after Shardonnay and sort this little argument out now. I don’t though. Maybe my sister can talk some sense into her. Shardonnay needs to understand I don’t see it as my money anymore. She’s my partner in life. Whatever I have is hers. I don’t know how to convince her that I’m not trying to buy her. I’ve held back from buying her all the things I want to give her, because I didn’t want to cause arguments or have her running in the opposite direction.

I can’t even pretend to understand what her hang-ups with money are; it’s not something I’ve ever had to worry about. Which makes me privileged— I get that . But I can’t control what family I was born into, any more than she can.

I pull out my phone and send her a message, because I can’t keep pacing the foyer thinking she’s out there pissed off at me.

Me:

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.

I press send and continue with my compulsive steps. My phone vibrates in my hand. She’s calling me. “Shardonnay, I’m sorry,” I answer.

“It’s okay, Xavier. I’m not upset. We’ll talk about it when I get home later. Stop pacing the foyer and go do something. Relax. Call Nathan or Alistair and meet them for a drink or something.”

“How did you know I was pacing the foyer?” I ask her.

“I know you,” she says.

“I don’t like fighting with you. I mean, I love bantering, but I hate it when you’re actually pissed at me.”

“That wasn’t a fight, and I’m not pissed at you. So stop stressing.”

“Okay, do me a favour though? Make sure my sister stays far away from any car dealerships while she’s holding my card hostage.”

“Oh, she’s insistent on going to Bugatti, so I should stop her?” she asks.

“Yes, stop her. Unless the car is for you, then go ahead and buy whatever you want,” I say.

“Okay, well, I don’t need a car. I have the hottest chauffeur to drive me to work every day already. I love you. Now go hangout with your friends or do something for yourself.”

“I will. Call me if you need anything.”

“Mmhmm, I will. Bye.”

“See you soon.” I end the call, feeling a little better. I know she says it wasn’t a fight, but I’d hate to see what a full-blown argument feels like if that wasn’t one.

I send the guys a message, asking if either of them want to meet for a drink. Alistair says he’s busy while Nathan replies with a: Thank God. Yes, I’m in.

I’ve been sitting here for an hour, listening to Nathan complain about Bentley, then moan and bitch about her leaving the firm. I don’t know what’s happened between the two of them, but they need to sort their shit out.

“Mate, if you want her to stay so much, make her an offer she can’t refuse,” I tell him.

“Like what? She’s already the best paid first-year to date,” he grumbles.

“So offer her more benefits… I don’t know. Offer her a transfer into Alistair’s department.”

“She doesn’t want to specialise in family law; she wants corporate,” he says.

“She is good at it. Maybe I should offer her a position with Christianson Industries.”

“And how the fuck is that going to help me?” he growls.

“Woah, calm down. It was just an idea. It would keep her close, and our firm manages some of the Christianson Industries contracts—which means, technically, she’d still have to work with you on occasion,” I explain my reasoning. My family’s corporate building is one block over from where our firm is located.

“That’s fucking genius, mate. If only you could use that brilliant brain of yours to get yourself out of the shit you’re in,” he says.

“Tell me about it.”

“How are you really holding up? This isn’t easy, especially for someone like you, who’s constantly in the public eye.”

“It’s fucking soul-crushing, man. I need to clear my name. I’m just not sure how. If I offer to pay her out now, it’ll look like hush money.”

“We’ll figure something out. How is Shar taking it?” he asks.

“She’s a fucking trooper—that’s for sure. I mean, she never even questioned if I did it. She’s been my rock. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“That’s good. She’s good for you. Not sure what she sees in you though.” He laughs.

“You and me both, mate.”

I end up catching an Uber home. I may have indulged in one too many drinks. Listening to Nathan go on and on about Bentley required the alcohol. He’s like a lovesick schoolboy who doesn’t know how to get the girl. Which, for a man like Nathan, is fucking odd. He’s never been shy about going after what he wants.

Just as I’m climbing out of the Uber, my phone pings with an incoming message.

Babe:

I’m having dinner with Lucy. Won’t be home for a while. xx

I head inside. As much as I want to crash their dinner party, I won’t. Shardonnay needs her time with her friends. Even if her friends are bad influences who get her thrown in lockup. Lucy and Shardonnay have always had a close bond though. I remember the day Lucy met her. She rang me, going on and on about her new best friend. At the time, I thought she was being absolutely ridiculous, a silly teenage girl. But their friendship has withstood the test of time. I like that Shardonnay has that. As much as I want to be all she needs, I can’t be selfish.

Jumping into the shower, I wash the stench of alcohol from my pores. The hot water soothes my tense muscles. When I’m done, I decide to try to catch up on some work. I’ve been so distracted the last couple of days.

Cracking my neck, I look at the time. It’s nine p.m. I got so lost in the cases I can actually win (unlike my own) that I didn’t realise how late it was. My brows furrow. I would have expected Shardonnay to be home by now. Picking up my phone, I dial her number. It rings out, so I send her a message.

Me:

Babe, call me back.

I call Lucy, and it goes to voicemail, so I leave a message for her. “Lucy, where the fuck are you two? Call me back.”

Fuck, I try Shardonnay’s number again. And, again, nothing. Where the fuck is she? How the fuck am I meant to find them? I don’t know any of their other friends. I need to put a damn tracking device on her phone or something—that would probably make me crazy though.

I scroll through my list of contacts, and when I see Ash Williamson , a lightbulb goes off. His cousin is always hanging around my sister lately. I hit dial and wait for him to answer.

“Christianson, what can I do for you?” Ash answers.

“I need your cousin’s number. Dominic.”

“Why?” His voice is harder, more demanding.

“I can’t find my sister or my girlfriend. I figure Dominic probably knows where Lucy is at least.”

“Give me a minute. I’ll call you back.” He hangs up, not giving me much of a choice.

I go into my closet and change out of my sweats and into a pair of jeans and a shirt. I slide my feet into my sneakers. My phone rings, Ash’s name lighting up the screen. “You get it?” I ask.

“I gotcha one better. I’m sending you their location, an address. Dominic is on his way there too.”

“How’d you find them?” I ask, walking out to the elevator and pressing the call button. These things really do take too fucking long. I need to buy a damn house and move out of this apartment.

“I didn’t. Dominic did. I didn’t ask questions. I’ve learnt sometimes it’s best not knowing, when it comes to dealing with a McKinley.” He laughs.

“Right, thanks, mate.” I hang up and ride the elevator down to the garage.

Sliding behind the wheel, I punch the address Ash sent over into my car’s GPS. What the fuck are they doing in Frankston? It’s a half-hour drive from here and probably one of the worst parts of town. I hit the accelerator. I don’t care how many traffic fines I get right now. I need to get to Shardonnay before those two find themselves in lockup again.

Twenty minutes later, I pull up out front of a divey-looking bar. I double-check the address; this isn’t somewhere my sister would ever willingly frequent. I can’t imagine Shardonnay would either. I jump out of my car and immediately know I’m at the right place when I see a Bentley in the carpark across from me with the number plate MCKINLEY on it.