Page 328 of Double or Nothing

“What do you want?” he asks me.

“I want to come back.”

He doesn’t look up.

“Congratulations. This place is fifty percent yours, after all, so go enjoy yourself. I can’t bar you from your own bar. Not officially.”

“No, Eli. I want to come back to work.”

That earns my business partner’s full attention. Eli leans back against his chair.

“Spit it out, Jack. How much?”

“What?”

“How much did you lose?”

“Nothing.”

He raises a brow. “Who’s threatening legal action?”

“Nobody.”

“Police?”

“No.”

“Tax?”

“Eli. Stop it, for fuck’s sake. I’m actually being fucking serious here.”

He studies me.

Eli has never been impressed by charm, or bravado. He’s the very opposite of a joker.

“Tell me the truth, then,” he says. “You’ve clearly been quite busy since you’ve been gone. What makes you want to make a reappearance?”

“What do you mean busy?”

“You bid seven figures on a load of art at a Hammersmith auction. Not exactly your vibe.”

My stomach tightens.

“How do you know?”

“News travels.” He pauses. “So do photographs. Do you really think I’ve been treating your absence like you’re dead and buried?”

His words make me weirdly emotional. I try to crush down the stupid lump in my throat with my usual smirk.

“Did I look good in the pictures?”

“I’m not going to indulge that ridiculous question with an answer.” Eli looks right at me. “You acquired random artwork through an organisation no one had heard of a month ago. An organisation that suddenly became interesting enough for three people to ask me whether we’re funding it.”

“You’re not funding it.”

“I know. I checked. Just to make sure you hadn’t siphoned anything through a back channel.”

“Excellent governance. Probably just as well you did.”