“Yeah, that’s totally true,” I said simply. “We’ve had a few people pass away in my office.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, like that gave his heart a little jolt. “And you think you won’t be one of them?”
“No. I just don’t care if I am.”
He stilled even more, as if he couldn’t believe what I’d just said.
“My work is more important than my life. It’s bigger than me. I understood that the moment I started. People enlist in the armed forces, knowing there’s a chance they won’t come back. People run into fires to save other people’s lives even though they may lose theirs in the process. My job isn’t that heroic, but the truth is worth the risk.”
“But the statistical likelihood of something happening to you is much higher than either of those scenarios since there are far fewer journalists than soldiers and firefighters. And based on what I saw in the alleyway, you’ve had a lot of close calls.”
“I wouldn’t call them close calls.”
He didn’t express his anger, but his eyes showed it clearly. He was never easy to read, but right now, the words appeared on the page. He never showed his dislike for my job, but right now, he wasn’t a fan.
“I’ve taken so many self-defense classes, martial arts classes, I have a gun—”
“You have a gun?” he asked in surprise.
“And I know how to use it.”
He released a quiet sigh.
“I don’t like where this conversation is going, Dax.”
“Me neither.” He looked away. “I care about you, Carson. I’d be devastated if something happened to you.” He grabbed his water and drank the rest of it, wiping his mouth on the back of his forearm before he looked at the ocean.
My heart ached at his words. “If it ever does, just know I wouldn’t have changed anything.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, like that statement only made it worse. “Want to get some lunch? I’m starving.” He rose out of the chair and grabbed the glasses before he carried them back inside.
“Yeah…sure.”
Seven
Dax
Loud music played in the club, people dancing on the floor, bouncers hovering around the edges to make sure no one got out of hand. It was a new club in Manhattan and one that Clint had invested in.
I drank from my glass and looked across the room, staring at nothing in particular. The music was a cacophony to my ears, and despite the chaos of the noise and the crowd, it felt oddly quiet…because my thoughts were somewhere else.
Clint had his arm over the back of the couch, talking to a pretty brunette in a silver dress. Franco and Javier were doing much of the same, doing shots off tits and licking their lips. This lifestyle had been fulfilling in my twenties, but in my thirties, it started to feel stale. Every new club was like the one we’d been to before. Every woman in my bed was like the one I’d fucked the previous weekend. Every glass of scotch hit me less and less, because my tolerance had escalated over the past year.
Clint left his girl and fell into the empty spot beside me. “You’re a billionaire in the hottest club in Manhattan, and you look like the saddest motherfucker on the planet. What the fuck, Dax?”
“I’m not sad.”
“Mad?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
The answer was obvious. “Bored.”
He stared at me blankly for nearly a full minute. “You’re bored?”
I nodded.
He looked around then came back to me. “Then there’s something wrong with you because there’s plenty of liquor behind the bar, beautiful women to fuck… What the hell do you want?”
“I don’t know, man.”
“If you’re bored now, then you’re going to be really bored at your birthday party on Saturday.”
“Let me guess. Strip club?”
“Private strip club.”
Yes, that did sound boring.
Clint continued to study my face. “Talk to me.”
I shrugged.
“Let’s have some pussy girl talk because that’s obviously what you need.” He grabbed his drink.
“What about your girl?”
“She’ll wait.” He pointed between our eyes. “Let’s do this shit. Come on.”
“I’m just stressed out.”
“Something happen at Clydesdale?” he asked, his eyes turning serious when he thought my company was in jeopardy.
“No. Remember that woman I told you about?”
“You’re still on her?”
“Well, we’re friends.”
“But you broke up like an eternity ago. Why is she still on your mind?”
I wished she weren’t. “She’s doing an article about me, so we’ve been spending time together.”
“And?”
“I read an article that showed just how dangerous her profession is, and since she’s so fearless as it is, I’m afraid something will happen to her.”
“How is that your problem?”
I turned to him, my eyebrow raised. “Because I care about her…a lot.”
“Then tell her to get a different job.”
I shook my head. “Can’t.”
“Why?”
“I have no right to say that to her. And even if I did, she never would.”
“Then get over her.”
“I’ve tried.”
“Bullshit, you’ve tried. You’re spending all this time with her.”
“We’re friends.”
“Okay, but fucking someone would probably help. You’ve been celibate a long-ass time.”
Carson would never take me back, so I did need to move on. I hadn’t actually tried. If anything, I only became more invested in that woman. Being her friend gave me what I’d wanted when we were dating, this raw openness that allowed me to see past her beautiful exterior and to the catacombs of depth beneath.
He looked across the club, and his eyes settled on a target. “Look at that bombshell in the blue dress. Go fuck her.” He patted me on the shoulder.
“She’s not a dog in heat.”
“When she gets a look at you, she will be.”
She was a beautiful woman with long brown hair, long legs, and full lips—exactly my type. My sex life had been stale for almost a month, and I was anxious to get laid, even though my mind wanted other things. But I knew Carson was hooking up with guys, even if she didn’t say anything. That was what she did.
“Go, asshole. And don’t come back.” He pushed me out of the chair.
I straightened my jacket and shot him a glare. “Fine, I’m going.”
“Good. Fuck her brains out.”
I walked into the room at the gym with the basketball court. Charlie was already there with Matt, drinking from their water bottles.
Carson was nowhere in sight.
“Hey, man.” I fist-bumped them both. “Where’s Carson?”
“At work. She’s coming straight here from the office.”
I took a seat beside Charlie, wondering if Carson had told him about Denise. I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to spill the beans if he didn’t know anything. Definitely not my place to share that information.