Page 1 of Worth Every Game

1

JACK

“Daddy bought me my first pony when I was six.”

I stifle a yawn. I’m unsure if it's because Lydia has been running through her childhood family pets for the last ten minutes, or because this is the third date I’ve been on this week, with three different women, and I spent the other nights working until after midnight.

I focus on the woman in front of me. She’s hot.Very. Long dark hair, dark eyes. Figure like a swimwear model. I’d be keen to fuck her if I didn’t think I might fall asleep on top of her. The pet chat is even worse than when she was listing her celebrity clients. I couldn’t give a fuck what actor or actress she does the PR for, and I’ve been feigning interest in her conversation for what feels like too long already.

It’s possible the whole work hard, play hard thing isn’t working for me anymore. Either that, or she’s incredibly boring.

I drain my glass of scotch, letting my mind drift back to work, my eyes glazing over as the sounds of the busy bar, and Lydia’s voice, fade into the background. It’s been six months since I sold my boutique hotel company to the corporate behemoth,Hawkston Hotels, and it’s been a crazy ride. With a seat on the board, and a huge share contribution, I’m working myself to the bone to prove my worth. It’s exhausting.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I slide it out to see my sister’s name flash up.

Why is Kate ringing me now?She never calls, especially not on a Friday night. Anxiety twists my gut. Ever since our father died eight years ago, I’m the one she calls when she needs something, which to be fair to her, is rare.

Maybe it’s a butt dial. If it’s serious, she’ll call back.

My gaze ping-pongs between the phone screen I’m hiding beneath the table and Lydia. Her eyes are sparkling, and she’s talking faster and louder, as if she knows she doesn’t have my full attention and is keen to reclaim it ASAP. Maybe I do want to get laid tonight. I could get a coffee somewhere first…

I reject the call and slip the phone back into my pocket.

It rings again.Kate.

Twice in twenty seconds? That’s not good.

I hold up a finger and Lydia aborts her diatribe about the rosettes she won as a teenage show jumper. I flash my phone at her. “It’s my sister. I have to take this.”

I get up from the table, accepting the call as I stride away. “What’s wrong? What do you need?” I ask before Kate has time to say a word.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathes, and my heart rate quickens. “I just got home, and the kitchen is full of bubbles. The dishwasher’s exploding. Can you get here and help me? It’s making this terrible gurgling noise.”

She’s calling me for bubbles?“Have you called a plumber?”

“Of course. I tried several, and none of them can come, and the guy who can, can’t be here for two hours. There’s foam everywhere. It’s like one of those terrible gameshows where the contestants flop around in slime in here.”

That sounds awful. My instinct is to rush to her aid, but I’m not entirely free to act on it. I glance over at the table to find Lydia staring at me, a coy little smile on her lips.Tempting.

I force my attention back to Kate. “Where’s Nico?” Now that my sister and my best friend are dating, maybe he can be the one to come to the rescue.

“He’s in Paris this weekend.”Damn. “Please, Jack. It’s your flat. Elly’s coming home soon and I don’t want her to know what a state the place is in.”

I perk up at the mention of Kate’s quirky flatmate. But I’m not sure how helpful Elly would be in this scenario. “Why wouldn’t you want her to know?”

“Because,” Kate begins, hesitation threaded through her voice, “I think she did it.We’re out of dishwasher tablets, so she must have filled it with washing up liquid before she went out.”

“Why the fuck would she do that?”

“I don’t know, do I? Because washing up liquid also cleans dishes? It’s not completely stupid—”

“Just a bit stupid.”

Kate tuts. “She’ll be humiliated if she’s broken the dishwasher, and she won’t be able to afford to get it fixed. Please, Jack. I can’t do it all by myself, and you should probably check there isn’t an actual plumbing fault.”

Damn Kate and her big heart, wanting to save her best friend the embarrassment of knowing she’s destroyed the kitchen. If Elly’s fucked the dishwasher, she should face the consequences. How else is she going to know not to do it again? But there’s no point trying to talk Kate down from this one. I know my sister too well.

I glance back at Lydia, who’s running her finger around the rim of her champagne glass. She really is gorgeous, but I’m exhausted and I’d hate to pass out on her after one orgasm. Better I pass out fixing a dishwasher than inside my date.

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