Chapter 29
Baylor
I’m surprised Mr. Goodman didn’t demand rain since he banned me from the building. He’d love to know I was stuck out here drenched and probably begging for cover. Though he should know me better than that.
It’s sunny despite him because I’m fucking winning.
Approaching the doors to Taylor and Goodman, I stop myself from going in and wait farther away.
Since I’m not allowed in the office, it’s good to have friends on the inside.
This side of the street is doused in sunlight, like a spotlight showcasing me.
I doubt Goodman could miss it even if he tried. Good. Fuck him.
I put on my sunglasses and text: I’m here.
Since last week and over the weekend, my checklist got longer.
I experienced the best high of my life, and then some lows that I’ll get over in time.
I’ve fallen behind in getting messages sent.
Prioritizing my list, I send an email to my attorney, Mark, to get the paperwork ready by the time I land in Austin on Thursday.
I’m not showing up empty-handed. Especially after how the bet was received. Not well .
Honesty. That’s her only request of me.
That’s what I’ll give her. I’ll face any consequences and fight for our relationship.
Then there’s the matter of this Josten guy at the property management company. He still hasn’t replied to my email asking why he went rogue and jacked up the prices on the strip of shops I purchased. Going rogue for your own kicks, then hoping to get praise is not how things are done.
Mickey backs through the door and looks both ways before seeing me. “I tried to get all of your personal belongings. I’m going to do another sweep when I go back up, though, just in case I missed anything.”
“I appreciate that.”
He laughs. “Your name plaque has already been removed. If it’s any consolation, it ripped off the plaster.”
“I appreciate that level of pettiness.” He hands me the box. “This is it, huh? My career didn’t amount to much.”
“Your career is sitting in bank accounts. This is just a box of knickknacks that didn’t make the mantel at home.”
It’s a good perspective. With more money than I thought possible for one person to have, I never need to work another day in my life. That’s not the path I’m interested in taking, but I’m financially comfortable to do what I want.
Which is? I have no fucking clue.
I’m not even in my mid-thirties. That’s too young not to be productive, not to transition my career to a new company, work toward a new dream, or figure something else out. But what?
Looking up at the skyscraper, most of my career has been spent here. I had stability and growth in this building. It’s incredible that one event changed everything.
Do I have regrets in the aftermath? One . I didn’t hit him. That would have felt good. Though my reward on the car ride home felt better. Guess it’s good I controlled my urges.
Shifting the box under my arm to shake his hand, I say, “I won’t keep you.”
“You’re not. I started putting out my résumé last night. I don’t think this is the company for me either.”
“Wherever you land, they’ll be lucky to have you. You have a rare talent in this industry. Good instincts. You have to follow no rules, only laws in our business. You can always go out on your own. You don’t have to work for someone else.”
Mickey squints when a reflection off the mirrored window hits his eyes. Maneuvering closer to the building, he says, “I’ve been considering it. I learned a lot from you. I know you’ll end up where you’re supposed to be, but I enjoyed working with you, Baylor.”
“Same. If you need anything, just text.”
“Same. And I’ll let you know if I find anything else before they clear it out.”
“Thanks. I’ll be seeing ya.” I’m not entirely sure that’s true, but he’s a good guy.
Maybe we’ll grab a beer one day when I return to the city.
I start down the sidewalk, walking straight into the sunlight and letting it cover me.
This feels like I’m taking steps in the right direction.
Shortcake would probably call it destiny. I’ll let her win that argument.
“Hey, congrats again on the marriage.”
When I turn back, I see him shielding his eyes as he looks in my direction. I reply, “Thanks. Best thing I ever did.” Every step away from this building and company is lighter and easier to take. It’s time for a new start.
Without much time to take this box back to the apartment, I order a car to the airport. I don’t want to be late. It also gives me time to call my girl. Unfortunately, it goes to voicemail. “I love you.” That message feels like it sums up everything I wante d to say nicely.
“We got hot dogs like we used to when I was little,” Beckett tells his dad. “And Uncle Baylor said we can meet my friends at the park tomorrow. But he didn’t get the ice cream. He said he forgot.”
I chuckle. “Is it that bad, Beck?”
He puts Tagger on speakerphone. “Can’t believe you forgot the ice cream.” I can hear him laughing.
“I’m ordering it now.” There are a few things I want to discuss with Tagger regarding the bet and how it played out, but I think it’s best to do so in person when I fly back with his son on Thursday. “How’s my car doing?”
“Sitting on rotting rubber in the garage where we left her. You aren’t expecting me to work on it, were you? That’s all you, man.”
“Like the fort,” Beck adds, calling me out.
I look up from my phone after ordering his favorite New York ice cream to be delivered. “I see you talk crap like your father.”
Beck laughs. “He always says I get it from you.”
Figures, the fucker. “I’m sure he does.” I laugh as I sit on the couch to watch the game even though it’s on mute.
I used to sit here and watch with my best friend.
Now I have my buddy here to keep me company.
It’s only a few days, but the timing was good, so it worked out to fly him here.
I’ve broken a few promises. I don’t want to break my word again, or I’ll have nothing left to give.
They wrap up their conversation, leading Beck to join me in the living room. I ask, “Do you watch much baseball at home?”
“No. More football in the fall seas on.”
“How’s tackle going?”
“Rough.”
He doesn’t laugh, but I do. “Yeah, it’s like that until you build a tolerance to being hit. You know what I was taught growing up?”
Slumping in the leather chair, he glides his eyes to mine. “What?”
“If you’re the fastest one on the field, you don’t have to worry about getting tackled.” His grin reminds me of Tagger’s—devil in the detailed corners, genuine when it expands.
“That’s good advice, right?”
“Yeah. I’m getting faster, but not fast enough not to get tackled.” The tips of his toes reach for the edge of the coffee table. He’s always been a part of our adult lives, so sometimes I forget how young he really is.
“Practice. That’s always the key to being the best.”
“That’s what Grandpa Grange says.”
Memories come back of us boys out at Tagger’s or the ranch racing each other. Competition is in our nature, but we’ve taken it too far more recently. It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. Hurting Shortcake is now something I have to live with and make sure I never do again.
Beck’s asleep in the chair before the ice cream arrives. I put it in the freezer before I tuck him into bed in the extra bedroom where I have my home office. I pause at the door for one last look back at him.
The only time I ever thought about kids was when I was trying to prevent it from happening.
Would it be so bad to have a few of my own?
Before I get ahead of myself, I’m reminded that Beck has always been an easy kid to be around.
Never fussy, though the sass is coming out as he gets closer to those teen years .
I’m pretty sure any offspring of mine will come with a big dose of hellion inside. Maybe Lauralee’s genes can balance them out. I close the door and walk down the hall to the living room, scratching the back of my neck. I’m starting to not recognize myself.
I jumped feet first right into marriage, and now I’m thinking about kids . . . as in having them? All it took was the right woman to come along. Now that she’s in my life, I’ll give her the universe.
A text is waiting on my phone when I return to the couch. Three black-and-white photos from our wedding day accompany the message: A preview of the big day.
My lungs scream for air, making me realize I hadn’t been breathing. I never considered myself a sentimental man, but seeing these photos of Lauralee looking at me like I can do no wrong reaffirms my commitment to love this woman with all that I am.
The flash flares in her eyes, highlighting the glistening tears when we exchanged our vows.
Her entire body is filled with too much happiness to hide on the courthouse stairs as we run down them together.
The smile that holds no limits to joy, the way it reaches her eyes, and the swing of her arm. She’s carefree, how it should be.
I look damn good in my suit. It’s always been a favorite, but I only wear it on special occasions. On short notice, it worked out great.
But it’s the last image that stole my breath when I first saw it, just like she did the night we spent together in her apartment in May.
So much has changed since then, but I’m beginning to believe most of it’s been inside me.
She’s rocked my world and flipped it upside down.
The view isn’t so bad from this new angle. I actually quite like it .
Most people would gravitate to the other photos full of laughter and movement.
Not me. This is my favorite. Simple. Classic.
Two people in love. No showy grins or knowing exchanges.
We stood on the steps with her head resting on me, holding hands, and the flowers lowered on her other side.
It feels real, subtle, and intimate, a photo only taken for us to enjoy.