Page 11 of Tempt

I exhale roughly. There it is. My opening. “Yeah. A fair bit. I realized I’m an addict.”

She looks immediately to the drinks between us.

I’m used to that. I don’t shirk away from the unspoken question. “Not booze, although I don’t drink a lot. I don’t need another addiction in my life. But I don’t like the stuff enough to use it in that way. No, I’m a gambler. I’ve been in recovery for almost four years.”

Her eyes go wide. “Cards?”

And how. At university, my poker games were legendary. And they came first, before Regan, before sports, before anything I should have valued. “Cards, horses, money. I…” I gesture to my suit. “I don’t actually do any of the investing part of being an investment banker anymore. Crashed and burned hard a couple of years ago. Got my brother in a shitload of trouble. We came out the other side of that bruised but better. Now he manages the investment side of things, and I make house calls on our more eccentric clients who like that I’m a wild boy.”

She laughs gently. “That makes you sound like a gigolo.”

“Not far off,” I say gruffly.

“Is that why you’re going to Ottawa tonight?”

He nods. “We have a client there. I’ll come home tomorrow morning.”

“You’re going up for one night?” Her eyes sparkle. “Are you literally a gigolo? No judgement.”

I smile. “No, but I was going to spend the night with her.” The look on Hazel’s face is incredible. An almost imperceptible flash of jealousy, which I enjoy, but then honest, naked curiosity. “Because she’s a night owl. We usually have a late dinner, and then spend the night pouring over her accounts before having breakfast together. Sometimes we finish late in the night and I grab some sleep, other times it’s an all-nighter until I head back to the train.”

“Long round trip. Why don’t you fly?”

I grimace. “I, uh, can’t.”

Her eyes go wide and her voice softens. “Phobia?”

“Insider trading.”

Her mouth falls open and a small squeak comes out. “Huh.”

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “It’s not universal. I can get on planes. Just not the ones operated by the two companies I put in financial peril. In hindsight, it was dumb to piss off both domestic airlines like that.” Then I grin, because I know it could be way worse. It had been, for a couple of years. It had been brutal, and a mess entirely of my own making. Now, my life was back on track. “It’s an inconvenience, but I’m in no place to complain. I could be in jail and I’m not.”

“That sounds like quite the story,” she says, her eyes still wide. “I don’t want to pry, though.”

“Pry away. Part of the twelve steps is taking responsibility and coming to terms with what I did.”

“So I’ve heard, but I’ve never seen it represented quite that honestly before.” She pauses as the food cart rattles towards us.

“Festive turkey, salmon, or lasagna, miss?”

“Lasagna for me, please.”

I take the same.

She looks at me curiously as we dig into our food.

“Ask your questions,” I finally say.

“You’re for real.”

“It’s not like you’re a stranger,” I say under my breath. “You knew me at my worst.”

“That was your worst? And you ended up doing…” She licks her lips. “Something that got you banned from airplanes?”

“It was part of the agreement. It’s almost done. I’ll be able to fly to Ottawa next year, although I’m sure I’ll have a hassle the first few times.”

“You seem chill about that.”

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