Sold. Blair Denholm

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      ‘I promise you won’t regret this.’ Even as he spoke, Gary worked out the mathematics. Sell four expensive cars. A couple of grand to keep, so not a bad result, as long as Ivan didn’t give him the runaround, which was always a possibility. The more Gary thought he understood human nature and what motivated people, the more he realised a surprise lurked around every bloody corner. But please God, no surprises this time.

      ‘All right,’ said Max. ‘I can see you’re stressing about Maddie and her mum, so how about you clock off after lunch. See you back here on Monday morning, bright and early. Let’s just hope your Russian friend turns up. You don’t get the money if he fails to buy.’

      ‘Sure boss. He’ll be here, I know it.’

      Gary made his way to his own car, a 2010 Ford XR6 with green metallic trim sporting a Gold Coast Titans sticker on the back windscreen. His mobile buzzed – Maddie.

      ‘Hi, babe.’

      ‘Hi, Gaz. What’s happening?’

      ‘Busy as. I’ve got a few fish nibbling and hope to offload some units early next week. They’re bloody expensive, so the commish should be a couple of grand, could be a game changer. Take you out to dinner at that new Thai restaurant in Surfers everyone’s raving about. Waddaya reckon?’

      Gary opened the car door.

      ‘That sounds great, honey,’ said Maddie. ‘I knew you’d turn the corner. What time will you be home tonight? I’ll cook a T-bone for you.’

      ‘Oh shit, babe. Max wants me to stay back after work tonight. Team meeting with me and the new blokes.’ Gary tried to inject a bit of I’m sorry into his voice. ‘He wants me to pass on some of my knowledge of the trade. These guys are raw but I can see their potential. The boss is taking us out to dinner, which means I won’t be home until at least ten. You know how these things drag on.’

      ‘Okay babe. I’ll leave the outside light on.’

      ‘I’ll try to sneak out early. See ya,’ he said, ending the call. Why the hell couldn’t he just tell her the truth? He had no illusions: Maddie knew he’d come home a wreck tonight, but turning off the bullshit tap was proving impossible.

      Perhaps he should ring Foss and maybe catch up for a couple of jars. Foss was a good sounding board; the advice was sometimes a bit iffy, but he regularly came up with genius ideas. Gary speed dialled.

      ‘Hey Foss, it’s Gaz. How are ya?’

      ‘Drowning in work this week and I’m glad it’s over. Could do with a couple of beers tonight.’ Foss’s voice was like the voice- over guy for just about every Hollywood movie, deep as the Pacific Ocean, except with a broad Aussie accent. Gary sometimes wondered if his mate had a third testicle.

      ‘I’m taking an early mark. Just gonna grab some KFC at the drive-thru and head down to Castaways. You coming down later?’ Gary’s usual Friday routine was to pick up some takeaway junk to line his stomach before downing vast quantities of beer, scotch or wine; whatever took his fancy.

      ‘Yep. I’ve got to meet a client in an hour and finish up some paperwork back at the office, should get away by about four-thirty. Don’t be too pissed before I get there.’

      Gary sensed pessimism mixed with sarcasm – Foss had known him a long time.

      

      ‘Hey, how’s tricks?’ a female voice chirped behind Gary’s right shoulder. He was studying the racing form guide, a nubby pencil clenched between the teeth. He had to find a winner – and soon. He’d already lost $200, and had only $40 cash and a few coins left. Bad news because his maxed-out credit card now refused to give cash advances at the ATM. Plus there was the $3,900 he owed Jocko. He spun around on his bar stool ready to tell the voice to please fuck off.

      Smiling broadly at him was a woman who’d bought a car from Southport Euro Motors three months ago. Short bleached blonde hair framing a squarish face. Corporate outfit – black skirt and red blouse – and carefully applied makeup. She radiated confidence. Gary remembered he’d sold her a neat little Audi, plenty of kilometres on the clock but mechanically sound and with an impeccable service history.

      ‘Hi Dawn,’ he replied, ‘Great to see you again. How’s the Audi running?’

      ‘I’m surprised you remember my name.’ She beamed a hundred- watt smile that rivalled Gary’s best effort. ‘Like a dream. It’s perfect for work. Not too big, not too small and it looks great. Only problem I’ve had is a flat battery, other than that I couldn’t be happier.’

      ‘I always remember the names of my customers.’ Gary laughed. ‘And don’t be offended, Dawn’s an old-fashioned name that’s hard to forget. The only other Dawn I’ve heard of is Dawn Fraser and you look nothing like her, thankfully. Plus there’s that rather obvious name tag you’re wearing.’

      His internal flirt button switched itself on and he couldn’t turn it off. From what he could make out, clouded though his mind was from the half dozen schooners he’d stuck away and the imminent threat of physical injury and/or death, Dawn was flirting right back.

      ‘You’re a cheeky bugger. My mother told me to be careful of men like you,’ she said, twirling her hair in the time-honoured manner of females engaged in the mating ritual.

      ‘Don’t worry. I’m married to a wonderful woman.’ He held out his hand to show off a gold wedding ring. Did he imagine it, or did Dawn look like she’d won the Lotto, only to find out it was a big mistake? There was something magnetic about her; if he was a single man he’d do everything in his power to hook up.

      ‘So, what are you doing in Castaways? Doesn’t seem to be the kind of place someone like you would go for a casual drink.’

      Before she could answer, the barmaid tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Hey Gaz, ya wan’ another beer?’

      The elegant enquiry came from Angel, one of the busty models in barely-there bras the pub employed to boost patronage. Her boobs bulged out the minuscule triangles of cloth just covering her nipples.

      ‘Yeah sure, and…’ he turned to Dawn, ‘can I get you one?’

      He hoped to hear ‘yes’ so they could keep talking. On the other hand, his money was disappearing fast and he needed to catch up on the lost bets. Catch bloody 22.

      ‘Um…’ Dawn pretended to waver; she looked at her watch and glanced towards the door. ‘Just a quick one. But I’ll buy it. And I’ll get you a beer, for selling me such a great car. I never thanked you properly.’

      She ordered another schooner for Gary and a house Chardonnay that looked like a pathology-bound urine sample.

      Gary eyed off the glass before him with the appreciation of a connoisseur. A layer of foam crowned the liquid amber and condensation beads formed on the glass. It was about time his luck changed. A free drink and the lovely Dawn to talk to. He’d just see how things went. Nowhere would be best. Just one drink with a charming blonde client, that’s all.

      ‘You СКАЧАТЬ