Page 22 of The Jackpot Screwer
“And I told you, ain’t nothing wrong with a good old-fashioned pen and ledger,” he replied, still not looking up at me. “Now have you just come in here to drag me into the twenty-first century, or was there something else?”
Taking a deep breath, I pulled the guest chair out from his desk and sat down. We’d had many versions of the conversation to come, but the time had arrived for me to give him an ultimatum.
“I guess you heard that me and Bronte are having a baby.”
“Yup.”
I still got no eye contact but carried on regardless.
“That means I need to think a bit more about my future. I need to be sure my family are well taken care of.”
“From what I heard you’ll be lucky if Bronte ever talks to you again, never mind want to set up a family situation with you.”
“Yeah, she’s mad.” I sighed, frustrated that he was still writing damn numbers down. “Hopefully, she’ll forgive me.”
“And how do you propose to get her to do that?” he asked, finally lifting his head.
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my thighs, wanting Lance to see the desire in my eyes.
“I want partner,” I replied, my voice strong and steady. “I have the money and I think I’m ready. You’re not going to retire and let me run the business any time soon, so I figure I should buy in. It’s a win, win situation.”
“And how do you work that out?” Lance put his pen into the crease of the ledger pages and sat back, waiting for the sales pitch that he would have no choice but to accept.
“I get the responsibility I want, while you get some cash but still get to carry on working.”
He never said much but I knew the big old house he lived in on the outskirts of town ate up a lot of his money. He’d told me once he wanted to sell it, but his wife wouldn’t hear of it. Their son Martin had been born there and as he’d been killed in Iraq, the house held a lot of memories for Dorothy and now she couldn’t stand to leave it.
Lance’s eyes narrowed and he let out a slow breath. I’d definitely piqued his interest.
“Let me think about it,” he replied. “Chat to Dorothy.”
I wanted to do a little jig in my seat because if he was talking to Dorothy, he was serious about it.
“Appreciate it, Lance. I really -.”
“Vet required urgently. We have a cat that has been involved in an RTA.”
The speaker system blasted out, making us both jump in our seats. I was on my feet first.
“I’ll go.”
Rushing into the reception the last person I expected to see was Bronte, cradling Roderick against her. Jim was with her and had his arm around her shoulders.
“Carter,” Bronte cried and ran straight to me. “A car hit him and drove off. He got up but was dragging his leg.”
“Shit. Okay, quick follow me.”
When we got into my consulting room, I got Bronte to lay Roderick on the table, while I pushed a button to call one of the nurses to come and help.
“Is he going to be okay?” Bronte cried as she watched me feel around her cat.
“Don’t worry, Lollipop, he’s in the best place now.”
Jessica, one of our nurses stepped inside and gasped when she saw Bronte.
“Oh God, what happened?”
“RTA,” I explained. “Can you hold him while I check his back legs.”
