Lockout Page 5

  "So, you and Sebastian work together?" I asked, trying my best to distract myself.

  He nodded. "Locky and I started at Fraiser around the same time."

  I snorted. "Locky?" I couldn't imagine anyone addressing Sebastian like that. He didn't seem like the sort of man who people made nicknames for.

  Thomas grinned. "Yeah, an old joke from way back when. He hates it, so I save it for special occasions. Use it well."

  I laughed. "I'll do that."

  I strolled over to the balcony edge while he poured the wine. "You have a beautiful place here. The view is amazing."

  He came over to join me, two glasses in hand. "Thanks. I've been lucky. Fraiser Capital has been good to me."

  "It seems like it's been good to all of its staff," I replied, gazing around. "No offence, it's just all a bit surreal."

  Thomas laughed. "Believe me, I know what you mean. You kind of just get numb to it after a while. To be honest I barely come out here anymore. I know it makes me look like an asshole, but at some point you just start taking it all for granted."

  I decided that I liked him. His self-deprecating humour was refreshingly different from the sort of stuffy, self-important conversation I'd been expecting. He felt like the sort of guy who'd be more at home in a local bar than a ritzy penthouse apartment.

  "I don't think you're an asshole," I replied. "It's just hard to get your head around, you know?"

  He nodded. "I know. When I first started actually making real money, it took me a solid year to adjust. I spent the first six months living off spaghetti and toasted sandwiches like I always had. I couldn't believe that people lived like this. Sometimes I actually think it might all be too much. Then again," he held up his glass, "it does have its perks.

  I took a sip of my own wine and swished it lightly in my mouth. It was delicious, a cavalcade of flavours I didn't have the vocabulary or palate to identify. I had to agree; I wouldn't be complaining.

  "So you weren't born into all this?" I asked.

  He laughed. "Hell no. I grew up in a shitty little two bedroom fibro house down on the outskirts of Melbourne. I never had more than a few hundred bucks to my name until I started at Fraiser."

  "Sorry. I just kind of assumed this was an old money sort of crowd."

  "Oh it is, for the most part. But a few of us worked our way in from the ground up. Sebastian is one of them actually."

  My eyes widened. "No way. Really?" Thomas nodded. "But he seems so... comfortable here. So in control."

  "He's always been like that. But yeah, he comes from some little town in Europe somewhere."

  "So how did he wind up here?"

  Thomas shrugged. "Not sure exactly. Fraiser Capital is multinational. We've got branches all over the place, so I assume he got recruited by one of them, but beyond that I don't know. He doesn't talk much about his past. He's kind of a private guy."

  I laughed. "I'd noticed. He's got the dark and mysterious thing down to a T."

  Thomas studied me for a few seconds, his expression growing sober. "You haven't been with Sebastian long, have you?"

  I shook my head. "We only met a little over a month ago."

  "Right. Well, can I offer you a piece of advice?"

  "Sure, I guess."

  "Try not to get in too deep."

  I shifted uncomfortably. "What do you mean by that?"

  He sighed. "Look, I don't know what sort of relationship you have with him and I don't want to know. It's none of my business. I'm just saying, be careful. He's a great guy, but he's also not the sort who stays put for very long, if you catch my drift. You seem like a nice girl and I'd hate to see you get hurt."

  He was the third person tonight who'd seemed to think that maybe my feelings for Sebastian ran a little stronger than a casual fling. It made me uneasy. I'd thought I had a fairly good grasp on what our relationship was, but now I was starting to question that.

  "I can take care of myself," I replied, a little more forcefully than I'd intended.

  He raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I don't doubt it."

  At that moment, we were approached by another man. "Hiding all the beautiful women outside again, Thomas?" he said, with a friendly grin. He was incredibly young looking, with a smooth round face that barely seemed like it should be out of high school.

  "How else am I meant to protect them from the likes of you?" replied Thomas.

  The stranger gave a little laugh. "Hi, I'm Trey," he said, extending his hand.

  "Sophia," I said.

  "Lovely to meet you. Please don't tell me you're here with this lout."

  "Actually," replied Thomas, "she came with Sebastian."

  "Ah," said the other man. "Well that makes more sense."

  "Trey here is another of our illustrious colleagues," continued Thomas. "He's what you might call the baby of the group."

  Trey sighed good-naturedly and rolled his eyes. "I'm twenty six," he said to me. "Thomas here is just threatened by my youthful exuberance. He knows it's only a matter of time before he's the one answering to me."

  "Yeah, that's definitely it," said Thomas.

  "Does that mean you're his boss?" I asked, spotting a chance to learn a little about the company.

  The two men shared a glance. "In a manner of speaking," said Thomas. "Fraiser has a pretty loose hierarchy. Most of the time everyone is working on their own projects and can pretty much do what they want, but when push comes to shove there's a certain order to how we operate. It helps keep the ship on course."

  "Makes sense," I said with a nod. "Although it's funny, I can't really see Sebastian taking orders from anyone."

  Thomas smiled wryly. "Most of the time he ends up giving the orders, even if he perhaps shouldn't"

  "Now that I can see."

  I felt a set of hands slide around my waist. "My ears were burning," said Sebastian. "And it's a good thing, too. I leave you alone for ten minutes and the vultures start circling." Again, there was something so personal, so possessive about the gesture. No wonder people suspected something more serious between us. It was easy to forget the nature of our relationship when he behaved like that.

  Tilting my head to the side, he leaned in for a lingering kiss. I could almost feel the testosterone radiating from him. The message was clear: mine. These were his friends, but still he couldn't help laying claim to what was his. I don't know why, but I liked that masculine jealousy.

  Trey cleared his throat. "Lovely to see you too, Sebastian."

  "They're both being perfect gentlemen," I told him. "Are you done already?"

  "No, not yet. There's one more person I need to talk with, but he's not here yet, so I came to see how you were doing."

  "I'm fine. Just learning a little more about you, Locky," I said, not quite able to contain my grin.

  Sebastian's lips tightened, before curling up ever so slightly. "I should have known better than to leave her with you, Thomas."

  He raised his hands defensively. "Hey, it just came up okay?"

  A man approached from inside. "Gentlemen. Any of you feel like losing a little cash? A seat just opened up in the game."

  I shot Sebastian a questioning look.

  "Most Fridays we run a small poker game," he said.

  "I know a little about poker," I replied. "Can I watch you play?"

  As a child I'd spent more than a few Friday nights watching my father and his buddies play cards. Games have always fascinated me. I love the challenge of working out how to beat an opponent within the confines of a specific set of rules. I think that's why I became a lawyer. When my dad realised how interested I was by it all, he took me aside and taught me how to play. Most of the time it was just the two of us, but occasionally he let me sit in with his friends. "The big game," he called it. Over time I learned to hold my own, although I hadn't played for years now.

  Sebastian pondered for a second. "Sure, why not. Excuse us."

  "Sure. Good luck," replied Thomas.

  I leaned in to Sebas
tian's ear as we were led inside. "Your friends seem like fun. Perhaps I actually might be able to land Ruth a sexy venture capitalist of her own."

  He chuckled. "You might be barking up the wrong trees there. Thomas works even harder than I do. He's a company man through and through. Relationships just get in the way, according to him. And Trey has been off the market for the last year or so."

  "Pity. Oh well, the night is young. Plenty of time for me to play cupid."

  He could only smile and shake his head.

  We followed the other man across the lounge and through to an adjacent room. Inside was a group of men, chatting and laughing loudly around a large felt covered card table. The surface was littered with stacks of chips in varying size and colours.

  "I should probably fold but... fuck it, I call," said one of the players, as we entered. He was an older man, and his strong features and heavy Scottish accent made me think of Sean Connery. "What have you got?"

  The man he was speaking to stared for a few seconds before breaking into a rueful smile. "You've got me." He threw his cards towards the centre of the table.

  "I knew it!" roared the Scot. "Don't try and cheat a cheater, Jack, you'll never get away with it!"

  A few of the players noticed our presence. "Ah, Sebastian," said the one sitting nearest them, "come to try your luck? Someone needs to break Ewan's hot streak or we'll never hear the end of it." He nodded at the older man, who was now grinning and scooping in the pile of chips from the centre of the table.

  "The more the merrier," replied Ewan. "His money's as good as anyone's." He spotted me for the first time. "Is this your secret weapon, Sebastian? Your own personal cheer squad?"

  I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Sebastian got in first. "Settle down, Ewan. She just wants to watch." He turned to me. "Sorry, just try to ignore him," he whispered. "He gets like this when he's had a few."

  I still felt like I should say something, but I didn't want to cause a scene, so I let it go. Taking my hand, Sebastian led me around the table to the spare seat. I pulled up a bar stool and sat behind him, my hands resting lightly on his shoulder.

  "So, how much you in for, Sebastian?" asked the man who had greeted us.

  Sebastian glanced around the table, sizing up the other player's stacks. "Five hundred I guess."

  Several towers of chips were cut out and placed in front of him. It wasn't really what I was expecting. I'd had visions of bricks of hundred dollar bills being tossed around like dollar coins, but things seemed to be much more relaxed than that. It wasn't a small game by any stretch of the imagination — by my count some of them had several thousand dollars in front of them — but compared to the sort of wealth I knew they commanded, they were playing what amounted to penny stakes.

  "Five hundred it is," said the dealer. "Shall we play?"

  The game resumed. It took me all of two hands to work out that this wasn't an ordinary poker game. The action was fast and reckless; exactly what I'd expected from men playing stakes far below what they could afford. Almost every other hand ended with a huge pot. Often, that's the sign of a weak player, but as the game progressed, I began to see that they weren't playing badly at all. They had a kind of raw cunning to their style that made up for their lack of restraint.

  Even during the lulls, I was enjoying being a fly on the wall. It was fascinating watching Sebastian with his colleagues. Seeing him laugh and joke along with the rest of the guys made him seem more human, somehow. He still had that steely intensity, but the camaraderie tempered it a little. It was a side of him I hadn't seen before.

  Every so often he glanced back at me and smiled, making sure I wasn't bored. It was nice that just because he was with his friends he hadn't forgotten about me.

  Ewan continued to drink and get more raucous, drawing more than a few uncomfortable looks from the other players.

  "Why don't you guys just kick him out?" I asked Sebastian quietly.

  He sighed. "You know that annoying uncle you don't really like, but are obligated to keep inviting? That's Ewan."

  "My mum kicked my uncle out at Christmas last year for making a scene."

  He laughed. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. But be that as it may, we don't do things that way here. Our office is like a big family, and people don't get excluded."

  A few hands later Sebastian got involved in a pot with a quiet, dark skinned man that everyone called Jav.

  "Two fifty," Jav said, throwing some chips into the middle. It was a big bet. Big enough to be scary.

  Sebastian sighed and checked his cards once more. His hand was weak. He'd been going for a flush and had missed, so he effectively had nothing at all.

  I could tell he was about to throw his cards away, but I reached out and tapped his arm. "He's full of shit," I whispered. While the others had been chatting, I'd been paying close attention to the game, and had a pretty good feel for how everyone was playing.

  "What?" Sebastian said.

  I hesitated. I realised Sebastian might not appreciate me giving him advice. Also there was a chance I was wrong and would cost him a bunch of money. But my gut told me he was making a mistake, so I decided to bite the bullet. "Jav, he's full of shit. Remember a few hands ago when he bet small at the end with the straight? He likes to sucker you into a call when he's strong. He wouldn't bet this big if he had it. His hand missed as well. You should raise. He'll fold and you'll win the pot."

  Sebastian studied me for a few seconds, a curious smile playing on his lips. "You're sure?"

  I nodded slowly.

  "Okay." He reached for a stack of chips. "Raise to five hundred," he announced.

  Jav instantly threw his hand away. "All yours," he said.

  "You know 'a little about poker' hey?" Sebastian said to me, as he raked in his winnings.

  I grinned. "A little." It felt good to know I wasn't outclassed by these world-conquering men.

  "I'll keep that in mind."

  The game continued, and Sebastian gradually increased his stack. Soon, it was almost as big as Ewan's, with two towers of the green chips I'd worked out were fifties. It was an intimidating sum of money to be gambling with. Several more times during big hands Sebastian turned to me, seeking my advice about a particular decision. I don't know if he was just indulging me, or genuinely wanted my help, but it was nice to be included.

  A few minutes later, one of the players left and was replaced by Trey.

  "Gentlemen," he said.

  "Well well well, if it isn't my favourite ATM," said one of the other men. "Time for your weekly donation, is it?"

  "Not tonight my friend," replied Trey, "tonight is going to be my night. I can feel it."

  The amused expressions that sprung up around the table said nobody really believed that.

  "What's all that about?" I whispered to Sebastian.

  He gave a little shake of his head. "Trey is just terrible at poker, that's all. And everybody knows it but him. At this point it's become a matter of pride more than logic, I think."

  It only took a couple of hands for me to see that Sebastian was right. Trey was nothing short of awful, bluffing when he had no business bluffing and calling when presented with a clear fold. Mostly due to good luck he managed to win a little, but luck inevitably runs out in the end.

  As one hand ended, a man who had been lingering by the door approached. "Sebastian, I hear you've been looking for me."

  Sebastian nodded a greeting. "Will. About time you showed up. Can we go and talk for a few minutes?"

  "Sure."

  He turned to me. "Want to hold down the fort while I'm gone?" he asked, gesturing to the table.

  The huge wall of chips loomed up at me. "Oh I can't play with that kind of money."

  "Sure you can. You've been doing just fine from back there. Why not take a turn in the hot seat?"

  I waved him off. "Really, I wouldn't want to ruin all your hard work."

  "If I thought you were likely to do that, I wouldn't ask. Look, either you
play, or we lose our spot. It'll just be a few minutes, I promise."

  I eyed the men around the table. As intimidating as the prospect of playing with them directly was, it was also kind of exciting. You don't get into law unless you have a healthy competitive streak. "Well, if it's just for a few hands..."

  "Excellent." He got to his feet. "Everyone, Sophia here will take my place until I get back. Play nice with her." He winked at me. "Back in a few."

  I slid into his seat.

  "Not sure we've ever had a girl at this table," said Ewan, clearly not happy about the fact.

  "It's kind of nice," said one of the other men. "Gives us something prettier to look at than your ugly mug." Laughter rippled through the room and Ewan scowled at me, although he kept silent.

  Play resumed, and soon enough Trey found himself in a tight spot. All the cards had been dealt, and he was facing a massive final bet. I knew straight away his opponent had something strong. He had shown no propensity to bluff in spots like that. But Trey appeared oblivious. Rather than folding as he should, he seemed to be considering making a heroic call. Sure it would look amazing if he was right, but the chances of that seemed impossibly low.

  Sure enough, after about thirty seconds, he pushed his chips into the middle. "Call." He wore a rather triumphant look, but it quickly dissipated as his opponent flipped over his cards.

  "Full house," he said with a smirk.

  Trey stared for a few seconds, before smashing a fist down on the table and throwing his hand away.

  "Have you ever considered taking up knitting, Trey?" Jav asked. "Or maybe stamp collecting? There's not a lot of profit there, true, but at least you wouldn't be actively losing money."

  Trey just stared down at his few remaining chips and shook his head. I felt bad for him, but there wasn't much I could do.

  The game continued. I still hadn't played a hand. Part of me wanted to jump in and throw my chips around as recklessly as the rest of them, but I was afraid of putting Sebastian's stack at risk.

  "Is that your plan then?" asked Ewan, after a few minutes of this. "Just play scared and fold until Sebastian gets back?"

  Despite the fact that he was right, I was sick of his banter by that point. "I'm not scared. I'm just waiting for the right hand to take your money, that's all," I replied, as sweetly as possible.