Chapter 14
Aidan
“I knew you’d pull that shit,” I said to Noah later as we stood at the bar, getting drinks. Back at the table, Samantha was eating nachos and listening to Alex tell a story while Dane silently sipped his beer. She seemed to be relaxed and having fun.
“Pull what?” Noah said innocently.
“Telling her my secrets.”
“Well, I happen to know you’re shit at color coordination. It won’t do to have her thinking you’re perfect. Which she probably does.”
“No,” I said, thinking of the shitshow last week. “She doesn’t think I’m perfect.”
He picked up his beer. “She’s very pretty, by the way. Beautiful, actually.”
“I’m sorry?” I cupped a hand to my ear. “Can you repeat that? You said you’d like me to rip your balls off and play hockey with them?”
“Relax. I’m not going to make a move on her. She’s not my type.”
“Too classy?”
“Too smart. Too serious.” He shook his head. “The kind of woman who actually wants you to stick around. No, thanks.”
I could criticize Noah’s sex life, but then again, at least he knew the real names of the women he slept with. At least he was having sex at all, unlike me, who had suddenly lost the ability—or the desire—to pick up an available and willing woman in a bar.
I glanced at Samantha. Was that the kind of woman she was? The kind who wanted a man to stick around? She was so polished, so careful, that it was hard to tell, but I had the feeling there was something else beneath the surface. Something a little rough and very, very sexy. If only I could figure out exactly what it was.
No. I wasn’t going to do that. Right. Out of the question.
“She’s a very valuable employee of mine,” I told Noah sanctimoniously. “I’d rather not talk about her sexual proclivities, thanks.”
He swigged his beer. “God, you’re as uptight as ever. I’ve seen you so drunk you puked, you know.”
“I was seventeen.”
“What does it get you, though? Living like there’s a stick up your ass?”
Noah knew nothing about the women I picked up, the things we did together. The less he knew, the better. “I don’t have a stick up my ass. As for my reputation, you should take a look at the Tower balance sheets sometime. My reputation as the ice-cold Man in Black scares everyone and gives me the advantage in business deals. It makes us a lot of money.”
Noah shook his head. “Maybe, but I couldn’t do it. Be someone else all the time. Play a role.”
No, that wasn’t Noah’s style. He was who he was, flaws and all. “Then it’s good you’re manning the west coast office and not New York,” I said. “Leave New York to me.”
“Gladly,” Noah said. He picked up his beer. “I’m going back to rescue Samantha from the awkwardness of sitting alone with Dane.”
I glanced at the table. I couldn’t see Alex, and Samantha and Dane were sitting together. Dane scratched his head, then said something brief. Samantha smiled and said something polite back.
Jesus, Dane really needed to figure out how to be in a social situation. He didn’t look like a geek anymore—laser eye surgery, a gym regimen, and lack of a haircut had done that job—but deep down he still was the computer nerd who coded for fun. No wonder he never got laid.
Noah headed back to the table and a hand clapped me on the shoulder. It was Alex, coming to the bar to get his own drink.
“I like her,” he said to me without preamble. “She’s cool.”
“Good, because she’s going to know everything you know about Tower VC. Probably more.”
“Fine with me.” Alex shrugged and pushed his empty glass toward the bartender, motioning for a refill. “You know I’m not the paperwork guy. I can already tell she has me beat on smarts. It doesn’t take much, to be honest.”
That was a lie. Not the paperwork part—Alex was allergic to paperwork. But he had a brain. He just didn’t use it, preferring to hide behind the prison record and the tattoos. You’d think Alex would be out of place in Dallas, but he wasn’t. He would have been out of place in New York or L.A. Strangely enough, the cowboys and ranchers liked Alex quite a bit. Alex was tough, and Texans appreciated tough people.
Most people only saw the ex-con, dark and possibly dangerous, but I’d known Alex a long time. I knew the damage that drove him, the scars he had that wouldn’t heal.
“Do you ever hear from Kat?” I asked him.
Alex pulled his fresh drink across the bar toward him. It was a whiskey, neat. He’d definitely spent too much time in Texas. “No,” he said, his tattoos flexing as he raised the drink and sipped it. “We’re divorced, remember?”
Kat had been Alex’s high school sweetheart. Back in those days, he was a rough teenager with a shitty home life, and Kat was the best thing in his life. They adored each other. She’d even stuck by him through his eighteen months in prison, waiting for him when he got out. They got married at twenty-one.
Then it all went to shit. None of us knew exactly what happened—Alex wasn’t talking. But Kat moved out and Alex got hard. Really hard. He got in more trouble. He lived alone in a big house in Texas, and he did oil and ranching deals with very hard men for Tower VC. He didn’t wear suits, he didn’t take orders from anyone, he didn’t date. And he didn’t talk about Kat. Ever.
Alex took another sip of his whiskey and looked at me. “So what do you think Noah dragged us all across the country for? This deal he has in the works?”
“I have no idea,” I said. I watched Noah sit down next to Samantha, say something to make her laugh. Had I ever made her laugh?
If he kept doing that, I was going to kick his ass all the way back to L.A.
Alex watched where my gaze was fixed. “He’s such an asshole,” he said.
I didn’t have to ask who he was talking about.
Alex finished his whiskey. “He’s an asshole, yet I wish I was more like him. Don’t you?”