He’s grinning at me. “And you don’t like that?”
I can’t suppress a smile. “Correct, I don’t like that.”
He pops an olive in his mouth gamely. “？’Cause a lot of people do like that.” He crunches.
I giggle. “Yes, I know. I know they do. And I’ve met those people, I know them.”
“But you think they’re wrong?” He’s prodding me on.
“No. Not wrong. I don’t know what’s going on in their lives. But I don’t want to be one of them. I guess I’m only just starting to wonder what exactly we’re all hoping to find at the top of the ladder when we finally get there, you know?” It’s strange, it’s the first time I’ve articulated that thought in my life, but hearing myself say it I understand it’s been creeping up on me since George left.
Nick watches me scramble for words to explain why I can’t wait to leave this godforsaken place. And again, I think about telling him the whole truth. But then that would change everything between us.
He senses my flip in mood. “What is it? Just say it,” he encourages.
I watch as soft flames lick the edges of the logs in the firepit, their heat on my bare ankles.
“Do you know someone called Ben Cohan, Nick?” I ask, avoiding his gaze.
I feel him tense next to me. There’s only the pop and crackle from the firepit and then he speaks. “I’ve met him a couple of times, yeah,” he says, his tone tight. “Why?”
“I met him today,” I say, turning to look at Nick. His features, usually so quick to shift to a smile, are fixed in a frown.
“Okay…” he prompts.
I don’t know how far I’m going with this but I let the words come. “I’ve heard some things, about him.” In my tone there’s a question.
“Yeah, I’d take those things at face value.”
“They’re true?”
He leans forward. “Did something happen?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not to me.”
“But to someone you know?” he asks, his concerned tone only slightly masking his anger.
“Sort of, it’s hard to explain. But you think the rumors about him are true?”
Nick gives a definitive nod and drains his wine. “Yeah, he’s fucking weird. That whole outfit. His business partner, Mike…It’s best to just to steer clear of the pair of them unless you wanna get fucked one way or another.” I cringe at his jibe and his expression changes instantly.
“Sorry, sorry. Jesus. I didn’t mean…Completely inappropriate. Sorry.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine, I get what you meant,” I reassure him. “Tell me about his business partner, Mike.”
Nick pours himself another glass of wine and tops up mine. I don’t have the heart to tell him I won’t be staying long enough to drink it.
“Mike handles the money, the legal, Ben’s the figurehead. They met at college, I think, kind of an odd partnering from the beginning, but it seems to work. They make a good team, I guess. Ben goes crazy, Mike tidies up.” Nick clocks my raised eyebrows. “Yeah, there was a thing last year, a rights issue that got out of hand. The rumor was that Ben had some…connections. When a certain rights option ended, all the other competing bidders suddenly seemed to dry up. Moon Finch cleared the field. They all got scared off. His connections paid some visits, apparently, made some calls. That kind of thing.”
I think of Emily, obliviously turning up to meet these two men with her little audio file and her demands. How scared she must have been as she tried to play a game she didn’t know the rules of—one that, given their connections, she never stood a chance of winning. Nick alludes to witnesses, competitors, paid off or warned off, some more heavy-handedly than others.