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.