“I’m not going to.” I groaned. “Jesus, Andy, give me a chance. Please.”
His hands were in his hair as he paced up and down.
I dug my phone from my pocket, stomach turning to find another message icon. I cleared it without reading, then looked up lawyers on Google. Commercial lawyers. I dialled the first number I found. “Hello? Yes, my name is Faye Devere, I have a company law dispute I’d like to speak with someone about...” Andy’s face turned white before my eyes. “Yes, a limited company, that’s right. Club Explicit Ltd. The company number? I’ll just grab it for you.” I was reaching for the printed notepad when Andy grabbed the handset from my hand and cancelled the call in a heartbeat, eyes black as coal.
“Don’t,” he said. “No fucking lawyers, Faye. It’ll bring a whirlwind of trouble.”
“You don’t want to play it out, and you don’t want lawyers. What do you want?”
“I’m thinking,” he snapped. I gave him time, eyes drawn to the muscles in his thighs as he paced. “I won’t share and you won’t back down. So we play for it. Seven day terms. That’s all we ever play for. If one of us wins three weeks in a row the fourth is a moot call. It goes to the other. If you let me down, Faye, I swear I’ll never work with you again.”
“Seven days.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“It’s a short enough timeframe that either of us can fuck off and get some space if we need it.”
“Fine. I like it.” I tipped my head back, stared at the ceiling. “You want to do the playroom again? You can go first.”
He shook his head. “We need another way. Something less... invasive.”
“Draw straws?” I said. “Flip a coin?”
A flicker of inspiration and he was off like a shot. “I have just the thing.”
***
Andy
I hid the twisting of my gut behind a veneer of calm. The woman was wired, fucked up somehow. I flashed her a look over my shoulder as I rummaged in my drawer. She wasn’t close enough to peer inside, thank fuck.
This power share was a non-event, it would never work. A short-lived novelty and it would be all over. I’d be calling my own lawyer and ironing out the cracks. The cracks. Chasms, more like. In the meantime I’d play the game. Maybe she’d be long gone by the time necessity came calling.
The idea filled me with relief and dread in equal measure.
I found what I was looking for and held it up with a flourish. “Lucky coin.”
Recognition flashed across her eyes. “I haven’t seen that in a long time.”
“Haven’t used it in a long time.” I sat down at my desk, and Faye wheeled her chair opposite. A solid gold coin, made to order. One side showed a woman riding a man, her head high as she had her way with him. The other side was reversed, the man pinning the woman down, fucking her hard. A switch coin of my own design. One simple toss and power was assigned. A kingmaker of sorts. I’d had a lot of fun with that coin in years gone by. A smile flickered on my lips at the memories. “You remember how this works?”
She held out a hand and I passed it over. She flipped it in delicate fingers. “Much more relevant than heads or tails.”
“Quite.” I gestured for the coin, but she held it high.
“I don’t trust you with it,” she said. “You might have a trick.”
I sighed. “It’s a fucking coin, Faye. Nothing sinister. It’s not weighted, there are no tricks.”
“Even so.”
I shrugged, impatient. “Fine. You toss.”
“And this is it? The winner is set for seven days?”
I nodded. “Our weeks will run from Sunday morning to Sunday morning, just after we close. It makes sense to do it that way. This week will be slightly shorter, but we’ll live with that. We’ll lock up from the Saturday shift and toss the coin. Deal?”
“Fine. Let’s do it.” She kept the coin in her fingers, playing with it. “What are the rules? Winner has complete control?”
“Within reason,” I said. “No major refurbishments, no major policy changes, just day to day authority.”
“Ok.” She tossed the coin in the air and her eyes sparkled as they followed it. I was looking at her, not the coin when it landed. The sag of her shoulders told me I’d taken the week. A quick glance confirmed my win. Sure enough the man was fucking the woman. A thrill ran through me.
“Shit,” she said.
“You tossed. That’s the way it fell. Fate has spoken.”
She looked so sad I felt almost guilty. “I’ll go back to the bar, then. Congratulations, Andy. You win, again.”