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She said nothing as we began to walk again. This whole trip was a disaster and might set me back professionally for years—but as I rubbed my knuckles, and felt the indent his teeth left in my skin, I had to admit that it might all be worth it, just to have the memory of Mirko’s shocked and hurt face in my head for the rest of my life.
5
Millie
We barely spoke in the morning. Rees collected our bags and brought them down to the lobby as he checked out. I lingered in a chair drinking coffee by the front desk, watching people come and go, wondering if any of them were at the club last night, and heard a rumor about Mirko getting punched in the face.
I kept coming back to that moment, again and again. Mirko’s hand on my ass, and my body refusing to move, terror keeping me pinned to the spot. I’d heard of the fight or flight or freeze response before, but I didn’t realize I’d turn into a shocked deer, unable to run away from danger.
Sometimes I thought of myself as a fighter. I’d overcome a lot in my life: grandmom raising me poor, putting myself through school, then again through law school, dealing with bullying when I was younger, and feeling like an imposter as I got older. I never fit in, especially not at UPenn, and maybe that was why I couldn’t seem to take the bar exam. I was stuck, and terrified I didn’t deserve anything.
Maybe my whole life was one big freeze.
I turned my head from where Rees stood nearby calling a car and saw a man step in through the doors. It took me a second, but I realized I recognized him. Slicked-back black hair, cheap suit, big gut: he’d been talking to Mirko at the club. I felt a sudden wave of discomfort and nausea come over me, and all I wanted to do was get out of there, but then the man’s gaze spotted me, and his face lit up with a smile.
He approached right away, hand shoved out toward me. “Hello, hello, I know you, just the woman I was hoping to find,” he said, talking fast. He had a slight Midwest accent, and a bit of scruff on his neck and cheeks. “My name’s Alfie Mackie, and yes, that’s my real name, and yes, my parents fucking hated me.”
I shook his hand as he laughed at his own joke, looking around for Rees, but he’d disappeared. “Uh, nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Millie Drake. Rees’s assistant.”
“I was there last night when your boss, or your boyfriend, or your both? Anyway, when Rees knocked out Mirko, and I got to say, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
“Uh,” I said, squirming in my chair. I didn’t think what happened was beautiful, but I was beginning to smile. His energy was infectious.
“I saw it all, you know? I saw the inappropriate touch, you know? His hand on your rear end? Typical Mirko, that sick skeeze, and I’m glad someone finally had the balls to knock some sense into him, that old pervert.”
“Thanks?” I said, not sure how to take it. If he’d seen Mirko touch me, and he didn’t step in, that meant he was sort of complicit, in some weird way.
“I know what you’re thinking. Alfie, how come you didn’t stop in and say something? What gives, Alfie? Truth is, Mirko’s big money, and I’m small money, you know what I mean? I step up to him, and I’m finished, done with. But Rees, well, he’s big money too. Big money can fight big money, and boy, did he.” Alfie laughed, booming and loud, head thrown back.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I can’t blame you.”
“Where’s Rees at, anyway? I wanted to talk to him about— Hey, there you are.” Alfie walked toward the door as Rees came back inside, looking confused, as a hand was thrust in his face. The men shook, and I stood up, joining them as Alfie gave Rees the same little speech he’d just given me—how excited he was to see someone finally knock sense into Mirko, all that crap.
“And I was hoping I could have a minute of your time,” Alfie finished, glancing toward me. “I know you were in town, pitching Mirko on some deal, and I thought, hey, I’m here for the same thing. Maybe we can help each other.”
“I don’t know about that,” Rees said. “We have a flight soon and the car’s waiting.”
“Make the car wait. Shit I’ll pay for it. Did I mention that I’m a bonds trader for Goldman? Come on, give me ten minutes.”
Rees’s face darkened and I couldn’t quite read it. I knew what a bond was of course—it was essentially debt in a company or a government that paid out a steady interest rate per year for a fixed amount of time—but I didn’t know what a guy working for a bank would want with us.
“Ten minutes,” Rees said.
Alfie laughed and we sat back down around a low coffee table tucked away in the corner of the lobby. People came and went, men in suits, women in dresses, and we were all but ignored, even though I felt incredibly conspicuous. Last night Rees punched a billionaire in the face, and now some random banker was talking about how much he loved it.
“Here’s the deal,” Alfie said, talking with his hands, throwing them around wildly. “I got a bonus this year, see, a nice fat bonus, and I need a place to park it. I hear you’re running a SPAC, and god damn if I don’t love a good SPAC. So I’m here to invest.”
That surprised Rees. He leaned forward, eyebrows knitting. “How much are we talking?”
“Five million,” Alfie said.
I felt my heart skip a beat. Five million wasn’t what Rees had wanted from this trip—but it was still a very solid investment.
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