“Oh, honey, there you are.” She barely glanced up. “Have you heard of this Pinterest thing?”
He took a seat on the other end of the ceramic table and began unpacking dinner. The shadows were long in the yard, spring’s heat beginning to dampen some. With the pool shimmering and a perfect view of the ocean past that, it was about as close to heaven as you could get on earth.
Too bad Markus couldn’t quite enjoy it.
“It’s so much fun.” She stayed fixated on the screen. “You find things you like, and you save them. You should try it.”
“Sounds fun.”
He didn’t know what he would pin. Breaking and entering hacks? Best ways to infiltrate the black market?
“What’s wrong, Markus?” She put down the tablet that had been glued to her hands since he gave it to her as a birthday present the week before.
“Nothing,” he said, automatically.
She frowned. “What happened?”
“It’s… It’s nothing, Mom. Really. Let’s eat.” He opened a carryout container and pushed it to her.
“Don’t lie to me, Markus.” Her voice became sterner. “If you’ve been seen, or hurt, or—”
“I’m sorry.” Sighing, he ran his palm over his head. “Okay. I had a close call today, but it’s nothing to worry about. No one even saw my face.”
Her eyebrows knit in concern. “Oh, honey. When is this going to stop? Don’t we have more than enough already?”
It was the same spiel she always gave him. He’d done his best to hide his illegal activities for years, letting her think he had a remote software job, and ever since she’d discovered the truth a year before, she’d worked diligently to change things.
It made sense that she wanted him to quit his life of crime, but the time had never been right. The money had always been too good.
It wasn’t until recently that his mindset had started to slowly shift.
“I just…” She pursed her lips. “You have a lot in savings.”
“I have some.”
Okay. It was what some people might consider a lot. But growing up poor did things to your brain. Like make you think that whatever you had was never enough.
“What about when you want to start a family?” she asked.
“I’ll be done with all of this by then.” He shrugged and took a bite of grits. It was the same recipe as always, but all he tasted was sawdust.
“And when is that, exactly?”
Another topic she loved to bring up was that of family. Nothing in the world, as she always put it, would make her happier than Marcus finding a “nice girl” and supplying her with some grandchildren.
“Soon.” He locked eyes with his mom. “I mean it this time.”
There must have been real earnestness in his words, because her face softened.
“But not yet,” he added.
“Why not yet?”
“I need a little more. I’m not ready to make a career change.”
Also, he didn’t know what other job he’d pick. The whole reason he’d stayed in crime, graduating from petty thefts to larger jobs, was because the money compared to nothing else. He’d just pocketed thirty thousand in one afternoon.
Used to be, risking his neck for that kind of dough felt like a minor detail.
Maybe he was feeling the same things his mom was. That life was too short and needed to be shared with people you loved, or else what was the point?
“Well, I know by now that there’s no changing your mind.”
She grabbed her plastic fork and knife and the conversation changed to other things. The koi pond her neighbors were building. The new Indian restaurant opening down the street. Even though he added comments here and there, Markus’ mind was never far from what had happened that afternoon.
He could have died.
And what legacy would he have had to leave behind? None. That’s what.
The meal finished, he took the trash inside and tidied up the kitchen.
“You don’t have to do that,” Tracey said, as he scrubbed down the stovetop.
He shrugged. “What else am I gonna do?”
“How about you go out? It’s Friday night and you’re young. Have some fun.”
He considered it. A couple drinks would help him relax.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I’m playing pool tonight.” She lifted her purse from its hook on the wall. “Remember? I joined a league.”
“Right.” Washing his hands, he shrugged. “Okay.”
“And who knows?” She walked for the front door. “Maybe tonight you’ll meet a nice girl.”
“You always call them nice girls.” He laughed.
“Markus, honey.” She stopped at the front door, face serious, and put a hand on his shoulder. “A nice girl is exactly what a man like you needs.”
Chapter 2
Viv
Soulless. Gut-wrenching. Depraved.
Since Vivian Thomas could think of a lot of words to describe the environment at a pharmaceutical conference, those few only started the list.
After a ten-hour day shaking hands, talking money and side effects, and trying to get doctors to buy HW Pharmaceuticals’ drugs, she was exhausted. The second it was clear she wouldn’t be needed anymore, she darted from the Tallahassee hotel and into her car.
Closing her eyes, she let her body sink into the seat. It had been another seventy-hour week, and she was beyond ready for it to end. Back in Jacksonville, there’d be a warm bubble bath, a movie and wine on the couch… Maybe even some mint chocolate chip ice cream.
A knock on the window made her yelp.
Opening her eyes, she found her manager, Mr. Romano, standing outside the car. Heat filled her cheeks. Even though she wasn’t technically working anymore, she was still on the hotel’s premises, where the conference took place.
“You okay?” Mr. Romano called through the glass.
Viv unrolled the window and forced a smile.
“Yeah. I was just resting for a second.”
“Right. I get it.”
Flashing his ultra-white teeth, he straightened up. At his full height, he had to be something like six foot four. With his broad shoulders, warm gaze, and salt-and-pepper hair, he was probably a looker for his age.
Viv assumed. She liked her men around thirty, just like her.
“The dinner is starting,” he said.
She tried to hide her cringe, unsure about the success of that.
“I’m gonna head home.”
Another meet-and-greet dinner where the main entree would be kissing ass. No thanks.
“Understandable. Have a good drive back. Be safe.”
She nearly sighed in relief. Even though the dinner wasn’t required, attending it was encouraged.
Five years ago, she would have been the first one there and the last to leave. But she wasn’t the go-getter-Vivian she used to be. It had only taken a handful of years in pharma for the disillusionment to begin, and once it really took root, there’d been no heading back.
As a sales executive, many of the drugs she tried to convince doctors to use were, well, subpar. Some were the best out there, yeah, but some had nothing on the competition. Problem was, she had to sell what her company offered.