Six months later
Paco delivered his trademark pair of choppy knocks to Alex’s office door, but he was sure the man could identify him by little more than his shadow, footsteps, and breathing. He heard the soft come in and sighed, worried about how each day Alex’s usual happy demeanor seemed to fade a little more.
Alex didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, he stood silently before the panoramic skyscraper view, losing himself in the downpour against the lights of a metropolitan backdrop. The plummets of heavy raindrops and occasional flashes of lightning were always beautiful from behind the double-paned windows that silenced even the loudest weather.
Paco headed to the bar to pour a bourbon for Alex. After a quick debate, he opted to shake things up with a Chopin vodka for himself instead of his usual Grey Goose. And then there was the third glass.
The pour was usually dealer’s choice, but knowing who’d be finishing that one off, he poured another bourbon, well past two fingers.
This might start as a business meeting, but it wouldn’t end as one. Looking up, Paco decided to tackle business first.
“We’re starting a new trust test next week.”
“What’s that?” Alex didn’t move but readily engaged.
“We have a few positions that require higher than normal sensitivity and trustworthiness. We need to know where people stand. Dozens applied. We’re setting a series of Alex Drake wallets in their path. We want to know who will return it. Who will snoop through it. Who will outright steal some or all of it. And who might just try to parlay the info on the dark web for a tidy profit.”
Alex barely nodded, but Paco caught the grin of approval in his reflection. “Any concern from legal?”
“Nope. When they applied for the positions, they signed an agreement to a series of random tests of trust, with the consequences of a discovered breach leading to actions that may—and possibly will—result in termination.”
“They signed that?”
“Every last one of them, with Gina walking through the document and reading it aloud before they signed. She’s pretty burned out on reciting it.”
“What are you putting in the wallet?”
Laughing, Paco answered. “For starters, a fake ID of yours with the most hideous photo of you we could find. Then the usual—trackable credit cards, a note with passwords and usernames to fake accounts, and two thousand dollars in marked hundred-dollar bills.”
For the first time since Paco entered, Alex turned around. His five o’clock shadow was nearing the stage of a scruffy beard, and his normally meticulously styled hair was tousled. “Okay. Let the games begin.”
Paco remembered the last time Alex was this disheveled. And the time before that. And the time before that. Every year, this date hit him hard, but at least he’d be shielded from his own torturous thoughts with the distraction of back-to-back meetings all week.
“Let’s make a toast,” Paco said.
With a solemn nod, Alex joined him at the end of the conference table. The two sat next to each other, and the crystal glass with the extra bourbon sat between them.
“Ten years,” Alex said, forcing out the words.
“Ten years.” Paco sighed, swallowing his emotions as they both clinked their drinks against the lone lowball on the table.
Despite their suits and status, in a grand office looking out over the world, both men tossed their drinks back, eager to hit the ground numbing. No one could move past the memories, but a shot or two of hard liquor at least calmed them enough to get through another series of days where life went by.
“You need another,” Alex said with an eye on Paco’s glass.
Reluctantly, Paco agreed. “Just one more. And about half as much as I gave you. Your tolerance is crazy high for a guy with your build.”
“Did you just call me feeble?”
“No. I called you a lush. You’ve been slipping it in your coffee in the mornings lately.”
Alex handed the glass back to Paco, then helped himself to the glass with no owner. “What are you, my mother?”
“No, I’m your warden. You’ve got a full week of meetings. I said take some time off. Like the spoiled dictator you are, instead you double-booked your fucking week. Your online calendar looks like a goddamn bingo sheet.”
Sipping more slowly and savoring the taste, Alex gave him a smartass smile.
Paco shot back his own sneer and raised him with a hairy eyeball. “You know I’ll be taking half those meetings.”
“Hey, misery loves company.”
“Apparently.”
Alex looked away, his glassy eyes lost in a faraway stare.
Don’t you fucking go there.
Setting down his vodka, Paco grabbed Alex’s attention with a reference to a certain tall blonde. “Charity says ‘hi.’”
Alex’s distant gaze vanished. He returned to the present, his eyes brighter as he engaged in the conversation. His lips turned up in the smallest smile. “Did she? I forgot to ask. How was her graduation?”
“It was terrific. We had dinner afterward. I gave her our gift.”
“You make us sound like a couple.”
“Speaking of which, that was one of her first impressions of us. An old couple into kinky shit.”
“Hey, we’re not old.” Alex defiantly waved his glass at Paco.
His outsized gestures were undoubtedly the result of hitting the aged Woodford before Paco had joined him for a drink. It wouldn’t surprise him if the workaholic hadn’t had a bite of food all day. Or any sleep the night before.
With a hearty laugh, Alex said, “But Charity got the last bit right. How’d she react?”
“How do you think she reacted? She kicked me in the nuts and told me to fuck off.”
Their chuckles filled the space, lifting the heavy mood between them.
“No, really.”
“Really? Well, her scream was so loud, and her hugs and kisses went on and on . . . and on. So much so, the people at the table next to us thought I’d just proposed and congratulated us. And in true Charity form, she thanked them and gave me a huge kiss right on the smacker.”
“Tongue?”
“No, thank God.”
“I’m glad she liked it.”
“Who wouldn’t like the deed to an upscale apartment on the Upper East side? I like a hand on my ass as much as the next guy, but I said if she didn’t behave, I wasn’t giving her my gift.”
“Your gift?”
Nodding, Paco gave him a humble shrug and sipped a little more. “She’s got the bug for school. You covered her undergrad, so I figure I can cover her grad work. You know, Valerie says the outreach program they’re collaborating on is growing faster than they can handle. Practically overnight.”
That got Alex’s attention, bringing him completely back to the here and now with a vibrant energy Paco hoped would last. It was good to see him like this, talking like it were any other day.
“Are we in?” Alex enthusiastically asked.
“Oh yeah. We’re in. But off the books. If DGI’s name is on it, they’ll get all the wrong publicity. They’re doing good things. If they need anything, Charity promised she’d ask. But if she doesn’t, Valerie’s no wallflower.”
Studying Alex more, Paco threw out a question, half hoping it was nothing. “You and Charity. Did something happen?”
The blank expression staring back at him said volumes and yet nothing at all. Typical Alex.
It surprised Paco to hear him say, “Charity’s too fine a woman for the likes of me.”
Thank God for small favors. I hate when Alex bangs them and things get awkward. Then what?
With just enough vodka to double-dare him, Paco dove headfirst into the obvious, but slid in with the truth. “I’m here for you. Whatever you’re battling. Whatever you need. But something’s off. Or am I off?”
Alex thoughtfully rubbing his scruff was unusual. As if it had only just occurred to him that Paco might be on to something, not quite realizing himself that anything was noticeably wrong.
Predictably, the deep breath that followed was Alex’s typical stalling tactic, giving him the time to decide what he’d share. What he’d keep to himself. What, perhaps, he was just now coming to terms with.
After a contemplative minute, Alex said, “I don’t know.”
Something about the way he blew out those three little words gave Paco pause on grilling him further. Patiently, he waited, ready to listen.
Repeating himself with an uneasy shake of his head, Alex further emphasized his thoughts. “I don’t know what it is.”
After a minute, Paco’s worry got the better of him. “I, uh . . . notice you’ve stopped dating. Or should I say, stopped marathon dating. Either you got serious and you’re hiding her from me because I know too much, or her last name is Taylor. You’ve had me check into a dozen of them. Did one fit the slipper?” Though he secretly knew the answer to that question, he needed Alex’s take.
“It’s not that.” His disappointment rolled off each word.
“Has something else happened? Are you okay?” Worried, Paco expressed a bigger concern. “Are you sick?”
Scoffing at Paco’s fears, Alex patted his shoulder, giving him some well-needed reassurance. “No sicker than usual. And only in my head.”
His weary laugh was met with an equally deflated one. Then he hit Paco with what had to be the truth.
After another swallow, Alex said softly, “I feel edgy.”
What’s that look in his eyes. I’ve seen that look before, but not in years. Not since . . .
Banishing the memory from his mind, Paco kicked that Pandora’s box just out of reach. “Edgy is understandable.”
“No.” Alex waved off Paco’s excuse. “It’s . . . different. Tangible. In the air. Don’t you feel it?”
With anyone else, a question like that might sound insane. But sitting across from each other and bonding over drinks was evidence enough that the man had a strong hold on his sanity.
Alex Drake was the reason they sat together now. And, as one of them was a billionaire and the other had a piggy bank eagerly catching up, say what you want, but no one could argue with results.
But facts were facts. It was the one time Paco couldn’t connect with whatever his friend was going through, readily chalking it up to Alex being Alex. Sleep deprivation and working to exhaustion? It had to take its toll.
Paco shook his head.
“No?” Alex blew out the word, his angst riddled with disbelief.
He took another mouthful, and Paco added it to his mental tabulation. Alex was clearly outpacing him.
He’s mellow. Not even close to last year, or the year before. But we’re early on this slippery slope. You can’t fool me, AJ. Not now. Not ever.
“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Paco asked.
“Wow.” Alex struggled with the question, taking another slow sip before answering. “Seriously, that question could have literally any answer.” Thinking for another second, he asked, “Can I at least buy a vowel?”
“Tapas.”
“Huh?”
“Tapas. You know, the appetizers.”
Alex’s eyes slowly shifted from side to side, as if he were mentally running through the menus of every restaurant in a ten-block radius. “You want to hit a restaurant? I don’t even know where we’d find one open at this hour with tapas.”
“I do. Best damn restaurant in the city for them. My place. Tapas will be the perfect complement to your booze-on-booze dinner. I’ll whip some up while you drink yourself slaphappy, until you eventually pass out and I bust out the Sharpie. We’ll hit the ground running hard tomorrow, after I tag you on Instagram and your phone wakes you by blowing up. I’m thinking money heist mask meets kitty cat.”
Alex shot him a solid smirk, the kind that used to irritate the shit out of him. “You don’t trust me to be alone.”
Tossing back the last of his vodka, Paco told the truth. “Damn straight.”