BRADLEY

I have no idea how the hell I’m going to fix this. All I know is that Sasha and Kitty showed up tonight at my girlfriend’s apartment with enough wine to fill a wheelbarrow.

I know because I helped them lug it up.

After we managed to get the stupid elevator running again, Lexi and I parted ways so that she could go home, shower, relax—pamper herself a little. Take a few deep breaths. Think.

The sort of thing people need to do when their world is falling apart around them, and there’s not a whole lot that’s looking up.

And it’s all my fault.

If I had never stepped in that car with Bill...if I’d never listened to his stupid little sales pitch, maybe we wouldn’t be in this position. If I’d never partnered with Leo, or tried to separate from him before I had proof, then maybe this wouldn’t be happening.

I have the documents pulled out in front of me, and I’m pouring over them again. I’m not even particularly sure why; I already have the evidence I need—balances that don’t add up, expenses of his that match the amounts missing. It’s enough for me to confront him, and if I bring it to the court system or a private investigator, we’d have the rest of the evidence in days. Hours, even.

Leo’s guilty, and he knows it.

He also knows that I’ve figured it out, and that was my mistake. I should’ve gone straight to a lawyer, or an authority, and demanded this be taken care of without bringing in outsiders.

Now, my career is in jeopardy, as is Lexi’s. I’m not worried about the long run with Leo. In the long run, he’ll never win. But the short term has me concerned.

If he kicks Minnie’s out of their building, Lexi will not be in good shape. She put on a brave face back in the elevator, but I could read between the lines. She’s worried, and rightly so.

Hence the reason my papers are back out, and I’m determined to find a way to put an end to Leo and Bill’s horrendous plan before it can get off the ground.

It takes a few glasses of wine—borrowed from across the hall—and most of the evening before I formulate a plan. The idea comes to me slowly, in waves, almost sluggish thanks to the alcohol. But when it clicks, it clicks hard, and I know it’ll work.

In fact, I’m so confident that I leave my apartment and set off on foot. Leo’s townhome is a mile and a half from my apartment in the direction of our gym. As I walk, I go over all the things I want to say in my head. Most of them will never make it out, but I need the practice.

I reach the outside of Leo’s home some twenty odd minutes later. He bought it a few years back, just before we started our business. His perfectly landscaped garden blinks at me, tiny lights scattered throughout the pristinely organized shrubs that are surely taken care of by hired help.

The front door glares at me, new and shiny and too nice for this neighborhood. I raise a hand and pound harder than necessary on it. When nobody answers, I pound again. I know it’s late; I don’t care. These sorts of things can’t wait until morning.

Finally, on the fifth go-around, Leo’s head pops behind the window and peers outside. He flicks the front light on when he recognizes me and stands behind the window for a long moment.

“Open up,” I say. He probably can’t hear me, but he most certainly can read my lips. “Now.”

Leo throws the deadbolt, then opens the door. The chain is noticeably still in place, and I lean toward it. My nose is practically sticking between the open crack until he goes on and undoes the chain, too.

“Brad,” he says. “Did your girlfriend send you here?”

“Give it up,” I say. “I know exactly what you’re doing. If you’re hoping to drive a wedge between me and Lexi, it’s not going to happen.”

“I’m not trying to drive any wedges.”

Leo’s spray tan seems brighter than usual, and he has an earring in one lobe. He’s wearing some flimsy, old-looking t-shirt that probably cost him a hundred bucks. Even his eyebrows have been turned into weird, perfect little chili peppers above his eyes.

I can’t stand the man.

Even harder to digest is the fact that I let this go on so long; so long it very nearly ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t mean the gym.

“Can I come in?” I push past him through the doorway. “Thanks. I’d say next time you should ask me in, but there won’t be a next time.”

Leo might be a rat, but one thing he’s not is stupid. He lets me through. To the layperson, Leo’s muscles might look bigger than mine, but we both know who would win in a fight.

The muscles he’s got on his arms are finely tuned things made from lifting dainty weights at the gym. Our gym. I’m taller than him, and I’m not very dainty. I come from years of getting battered on the ice, pressed against boards, shoved around by men even bigger than me. Not a whole lot scares me. I can’t say the same for Leo.

“You know why I’m here,” I say, turning to face Leo. “Why? Why couldn’t you drop things?”

“I didn’t chase after anything. It fell into my lap.”

“Right.”

“Imagine my surprise when a real estate agent shows up talking about this hot new property my business partner wants for his gym. For our gym.”

“It wasn’t going to be our gym.” I parrot his words back. “It was going to be my own damn gym.”

“Ours wasn’t good enough for you?”

“It was until you went and stole from us.”

“Stole? Right. You know, man, if you’d just asked me, I would’ve told you where the money came from.”

“I know exactly where it came from.”

“You think you do, but you never bothered to ask.” Leo tsks in annoyance. “I saw you eyeing the car, the toys. Yet, not once did you ever ask where it came from.”

“I don’t make a habit of prying into the personal lives of my friends and business partners. Business is business. Until you make it personal.”

“My grandmother died. It’s an inheritance.”

A flicker of hesitation stirs inside me, but I recover quickly.

“I can read you like a newspaper, Brad” Leo says, my name dripping with sarcasm. “You don’t have a shred of proof. You’re blowing smoke.”

“I was hoping you’d come clean before I brought in the lawyers.”

“Come clean about what? Blowing the inheritance money I got from my grandmother on some toys? Sure, maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do—hence the reason I didn’t outright tell you. But it’s not illegal, and it’s certainly none of your business.”

“We’ll pretend you’re not lying about the inheritance. Here’s what we’ll do: let’s split ways,” I offer. “You keep the gym, the original location. I don’t want anything except my half—buy me out, and I’ll set up shop elsewhere. And this should go without saying, but I expect you’ll leave Lexi’s business alone.”

“Ah, now we’ve finally reached the meat and bones of the issue. I was waiting for this to come around.”

I cross my arms and take a moment to survey the too-neat entryway that belongs to Leo. He lives in a museum of dainty vases and flashy artwork on the wall—probably fakes, unless he’s stolen enough money for those items, too.

“You only confronted me because I dragged your girlfriend into this.”

“I was looking to end things quietly, peacefully, until you fired a cannon at me.”

“No cannon’s been fired.” He raises his eyebrows with a smug smile to match. “This ball dropped right in my lap.”

“Shame it didn’t drop a pair of ‘em.”

Leo barely notices the insult. “Everything that I’m doing, everything happening to Lexi, all started with you. If you hadn’t gone to Bill in the first place, he wouldn’t have come to me with an interesting proposition.”

“You didn’t have to listen.”

“Tell me you wouldn’t listen if a real estate agent came to you with a deal for your business...that you had no idea about.”

“We both know that’s not what happened. I told Bill I wasn’t interested. He sensed there was a gap between us. He brought you an under the table deal that was supposed to belong to me.”

“Us. We are business partners. Yes, even now. Don’t forget, my friend—the gym is half yours, too. Are you really interested in ruining it for both of us?”

“Drop the deal with Bill, Chris, and the new property. I’ll leave quietly and hand over the reins to you. Nothing will have to change.”

“You’re the one breaking the contracts. You want out? You’re forfeiting your half. We signed a five-year agreement. If either of us wanted out within five years—for personal reasons—the other keeps the gym.”

“It’s not for personal reasons.”

“I’d call that little hooker of yours a personal reason.”

I have him by the throat in seconds, pinned against the wall. I don’t even remember acting, don’t remember lunging for him—everything happened so fast.

He warbles some sort of apology, his face turning red. His feet are barely on the floor, and ironically, those perfectly grown gym muscles aren’t doing him a whole lot of good.

I release him, just enough so that he can breathe. My hands hold him up by the scruff of his collar as his eyes go wide and fearful. I didn’t want to do this, I didn’t want to react without thinking.

But there’s no turning back now, and nobody is going to talk about Lexi that way in front of me. They never have in the past, they never will in the future—at least, they will be damned sorry they did.

“What did you call her?”

“Sorry,” he groans. “I didn’t realize...”

“Realize what?”

“That you liked her—”

“That’s where you’re wrong, asshole. I don’t like her, I love her. And you aren’t going to go around talking about any woman like that, let alone the one I hope to marry.”

He gurgles another response, and I let up the slightest amount.

“I’m waiting,” I growl.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Good. Then go apologize to her and tell her you’re leaving the real estate deal behind.”

“But—”

“Tell her that you’ll never interfere with us, or her, again. Not our personal lives and not our businesses. When I leave today, the only thing I want from you is a check and a signature that finalizes our business separation.”

“You can’t get out of our contract.”

I sigh, relaxing into the truth I’ve had in my back pocket this whole time. Really, I’d wanted to see how far he’d take his lies, the web of them, the depths to his attempted deception. Even I’d been impressed with how far he’d gone this evening. He’s a bigger piece of crap than I’d ever expected.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a few carefully folded slips of paper with all the evidence I’ll need to get out of our contract. Enough line items of him skimming from our company, enough proof to win a court case in five minutes.

“Take a look at this,” I tell him. “At your leisure. I believe you’ll find everything you need in there.”

“What is this?”

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” I let him go and take a few steps toward the door. When I reach it, I face him again. “You’re going to give me the investment I put in, and half the profit we made together. Exactly split down the middle. You can subtract what you already skimmed from your half. If you don’t, I’ll know.”

“But—”

“For a hockey player, I’m not half bad at math.” I give him a crooked smile. “Unfortunately for you. I even made it easy. There’s an amount on the bottom, there, and if you have a check to me by tomorrow, I won’t even get the lawyers involved.”

“But—”

“Underneath that number, you’ll find another contract I had drawn up that releases us each from obligations to one another, and will leave us free and clear to pursue our own interests. No more penalties.”

“I’m not paying you money when I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Think about it overnight,” I tell him, resting a hand on the doorknob. “I’d think long and hard about it, and then I’d revise your lies. Just in case it turns out that money wasn’t coming from Grandma.”

Leo’s line of expletives are enough to tell me it’s time to leave. I yank the door open and stride through his front lawn as he stands in the doorway watching me go.

When I reach the boulevard, I turn to find him still glaring holes in the back of my skull. “One more thing. I expect a full apology to Lexi. After Lexi comes the check made out to me. If any of that doesn’t happen tomorrow, your grandmothers, your lawyers, and everyone at the gym will find out what happened here.”

“You can’t threaten me!”

“Just cut me loose, Leo. That’s all I’m asking. That and an apology to a woman who is owed one. That’s hardly a threat.”

“Your clients will follow you to your new gym.”

“Should’ve built a better client roster,” I say. “But I’m not going to steal your clients. I’ll leave quietly. Nothing has to change, unless you insist on misbehaving.”

He’s fuming as I turn the corner and disappear from view. It should feel good to know that my suspicions were right. It should feel great to know I’ll be a free man tomorrow if all goes well, and it should be exciting to think of the new opportunities an influx of cash and a wide-open horizon will bring.

Instead, I feel quiet. Oddly calm. Somewhat off-kilter, and a little antsy. It’s not over until it’s over, they say. Unfortunately, it’s not quite over.