Page 91 of Reckless Desire

My phone rings and I snatch it up, my heart swelling with hope it’s Sydney or at least London with some news. When I see the caller ID I consider declining the call, but then I decide I couldn’t have gotten a better punching bag if I was looking for it.

“So I see the cat is out of the bag,” Gigi sings, turning my stomach upside down.

“I hope you’re satisfied. I’m still not sure what you wanted to achieve because I wouldn’t sleep with you before and I sure as hell won’t do it now. Ever.”

“Oh, I don’t need you to warm my bed, Stuart. Or is it Hunter? Ash has been doing a pretty good job in that department.”

Like a punch to my gut, her words spread pain through me.Ash?

“You see, I think he’s great in the sack. I don’t need you anymore, but he deserves more, and you’ve been taking everything from him, so now he’s taken from you.” She cackles.

“If you’re referring to yourself, you’re delusional.” Fuck this shit. I wish I had Sydney to calm me down, but she doesn’t want to be by my side. I don’t know the extent of Ash’s betrayal yet, but its hurt is negligible compared to the misery Sydney’s absence has carved inside me.

I hang up. Yelling at Gigi brings no satisfaction. I’m about to put the phone away when it chimes again. I read the text and almost throw my phone out of the window.

London: She’s not ready to see you. Stay away for now.

“Fuuuuuuck.”

The driver looks at me over his shoulder. “Bad day?”

“More like a lifetime.”

We’re almost at the Brooklyn Bridge and I reluctantly obey London’s advice, giving the driver the Tribeca address since it’s not far anymore. I might as well deal with Ash.

The gym is dark when I arrive. I check my watch. Strange. We’ve been paying the construction workers for overtime to compensate for the delay. Finding my key, I enter. The place looks just like it did the last time I was here two weeks ago.

I call the foreman.

“Hunter,” he answers on the second ring. His voice is nearly drowned out by the banging and chugging of machinery in the background.

“I’m at the Tribeca location and it seems like no work has been done here since the last time. What’s going on?” Clearly he’s at another job.

“What do you mean? Ash told us there are no funds available and he’d call us after New Year’s.”

“Oh, yeah, he probably didn’t get a chance to tell you to come back,” I lie. “Are you available to return now?”

“Sorry, Hunter, we took another job, but we can come back the first week of January.”

“Okay. I’m taking over here, so you’ll deal with me from now on. I’ll see you then. Merry Christmas.”

I don’t expect the driver to wait for me, but he’s still outside. I may as well take advantage of the network’s perk. They are taking advantage of my media coverage, after all.

The drive back to the Madison location is taken up by a lifetime of snapshots in my mind. Ash talking to Gigi. Sydney laughing at my joke. Caro’s disappointment about skating being canceled. Ash talking to Delaney. The hurt in Sydney’s eyes the last time I saw her. The way she felt in my arms when we danced. How she read with Caro. Her hair fanned out over my pillow. Her lips on mine.

No matter how shitty my life is, she steals all my thoughts.

I enter the gym, hit by the usual commotion, familiar smell and typical sounds that I take for granted. The soundtrack of my life, but my favorite sounds are currently missing.

“How did it go, boss?” Lea asked. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“I have a few things I need to check.” I make my way to my office, barely acknowledging the patrons who greet me. I shut the door and exhale. This day is certainly winning the longest day contest.

I sit at my computer and open up the bank statements and financial spreadsheet. It takes me about an hour to connect the dots. Ash has been careful, but I can see he diverted the funds for the remodeling of Tribeca club to another, personal account.

I’d prefer to confront him face-to-face, but I want this to be over, so I can focus on what matters. Even though right now that amounts to pining over the woman who refuses to see me.

I dial and half-expect to get his voicemail, but he picks up after two rings. “Hey, man, what’s up? How did the shoot go? Did you have to wear makeup?” He chuckles.

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