The Fatal Crush

?CHAPTER 4?

"Take it," I say.

He narrows his eyes with a query. He didn't expect me to give him the money just like that without a single reaction.

"If I will be in danger just for some money, honestly, I don't want it. I don't want any trouble out of nowhere either. That's no reason to become enemies when we don't even know each other," I continued in a mild tone.

Really, it would be a foolish reason for him to quarantine me against these people here. I can tell by the look on his face he's processing my move in his head.

"How can I trust you?" he's obviously suspicious that I might rat him out because what he's doing is illegal.

I mean, I earned that money, I didn't steal it.

"You can't. But you can always check me out," I answer and I get up with bittersweet feelings.

"I'll see you around, Reva Lennox," he whispers to me with a sideways smile.

Although seeing him again I like it sinfully, something scares me that this story will not end well.

The two men with guns approach me warning towards the door while Dorian looks at me like... how to say it? With questions? With enthusiasm? With suspicion? I don't know, I can feel it all this wavering in the atmosphere.

Marinell is standing just outside the office with her hands crossed. The closer I get to her, the more I see the anger on her face. Ridge and Stephan nod us from afar while Marinell without a second thought grabs my hand and literally drags me out of the casino.

"What's wrong?" I ask her annoyed.

"We shouldn't have come in here," she mumbled, grabbing her Mercedes keys from the assistant. "At least we won something," she says angrily.

"You mean the money from the private?"

"And also mine from the slot machines," she's got her eyes wide open.

"Yeah, yours are sure of profits. As for mine, I don't have them, Marinell,"

"What do you mean you don't have them?"

"What do you think? That I was invited in there to tell me how beautiful I am?" I answer with irony.

"Yes?!" she says stating the obvious.

"No. I gave them back to him,"

"Why?" she screams.

"Because he asked for it back! Because he wanted them back! It's simple. And don't ask me why I gave them away. Don't look any further. And I'm catching up with you, I will not mention him or discredit him. I don't want any trouble."

I'm making it very clear to her because the only thing I don't want right now is her justified irritation. She's right, but now what's done is done.

She sighed troubled, but she accepted what I told her without continuing it.

"Just tell me this. The money went into your card, right? How did it happen, and you kept yours?" she asks me strangely calm this time.

"I left it all to him, Marinell. He can do whatever he wants."

She silently turned her attention to driving.

We stopped outside a restaurant and sat down for dinner.

"I'd like a bowl of chicken nuggets and a hamburger for the generous lady here!" she says ironically to the waiter.

"Since you left everything and did your charitable duty, at least I'll feed you," she continues in the same ironic tone.

We eat in silence. I'm looking away because it's pissing me off the 'Marinell-with a denture going up and down' sight and with that inquisitive gaze as if she will solve a dark case.

She knows it pisses me off, and she's doing it on purpose. But I won't indulge her. Or maybe I will do it?

You're burning to talk to your friend about Dorian because you like this man from the first moment you saw him, says the voice inside me.

"I hear you," Marinell stutters, answering my inner voice.

"I know it's wrong, but I like him. I admit it," I got straight to the point, she knows what I'm talking about.

"Why is it wrong?" she asks thoughtfully.

"Because I'm a court clerk and he's an underworld man?!" I say in a tone that states the obvious.

I trouble her as to the seriousness of the situation.

"All right, Reva, you didn't meet him in prison! You met a businessman in his casino. Don't be exaggerated," she says with a positive attitude, which to be honest, I didn't expect.

In such cases, Marinell can smell the storm from afar and notifies me, as any best friend of something like that.

"What are you thinking about, Ridge or Stephan?" I ask unexpectedly.

"Stephan had a crush on you the minute he saw you. So Ridge is my choice," she answers easily and I spit the juice in the glass.

"How do you know? How can you be so sure?" I ask.

"While you were blowing those pricks in the private room, Stephan never missed a chance to besiege me with a bunch of questions about you. Besides, it's better this way, because Ridge got my attention from the beginning anyway," she goes on for sure.

Yeah, right! They both got her attention, but after seeing how things turned out the result was convenient for her. I know her well; she can't hide from me as easily as she thinks.

"The last time, I remember you being stuck on Alfred and bubbling over with him. What happened to this?" I ask with a keen desire to find out. I've been thinking about it for days.

"Alfred is the worst son of a bitch ever,"

I'm surprised by her answer.

"But it looked different."

"I was wrong. We'll talk about it another time," she avoids me quickly.

I don't insist. I'm sure she'll tell me all about it, on one of those nights we used to spend at her house or mine, reminiscing about the past and making plans for the future.

After dinner, Marinell dropped me off at my place and she went to hers. She represents a supply store company and at any moment she may receive an email that says she has to go to the other side of the earth.

Something that never happens to me. The court demands that you attend in an office and then pull the strings with simple signatures.

I take a quick bath and lie to bed. I giggle ironically at the thought just for a few minutes this evening I became a little richer, but it got lost the same way that it came. So what?

It's enough that right now I'm sitting quietly in my bed with my conscience clear. It's enough that my sleep will be as peaceful as it should be in every person. What's the difference with the money?

Money can buy a bed, but not sleep; books, but no brains; food, but not appetite; meds, but not health; fun, but not happiness.

I frown at the thought that came to me like a wedge in my head.

Why would I meet Dorian that way?

What's wrong with that?

He's an underworld man and I'm a court clerk. He works for illegality, and I work to combat illegalities.

You don't know what he's doing yet, don't condemn him.

I know, I saw. He's a gangster, and he's covering up his dirty business with the casino. If not, what reason did he have to ask me back the money I won?

It doesn't take a lot of brains to figure out what kind of business Dorian does. I like him. I just like him.

How bad can that be?