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“Dating.” I study the remains of the prime rib on my plate. The Yorkshire pudding was good, but the beef was too well-done for my liking. “What’s that again?”
He clicks his tongue. “How long has it been? Because you need to get back in the game. For practice, if nothing else.” There’s pity in his gaze and I hate being pitied, even if it’s by my best friend.
“I haven’t—I’m back in the game,” I protest. “I met a woman the other night.”
The other night was almost a month ago, but Marcus doesn’t need to know that.
“How long’s it been since you hooked up?” he demands. The waiter, just about to pass over the POS terminal, pauses with a wide-eyed expression.
I pull back like I’m offended, which I’m not because it’s Marcus. Still—he can take care of the bill after that.
He likes details, giving and receiving. He likes to give advice. He likes to think he’s the best lover in the world.
And what do I know? Maybe he is. “That’s a very personal question,” I chide, stalling as I try to do the math in my head. That blonde with the legs was last year, but there had to be someone since then. There was the tiny thing I met on the trip to Japan, but we did nothing but go for cheesecake. Helena, but she was last year as well. Wasn’t she?
Has it been that long?
“You know all my personal questions.” Marcus grins.
“Unfortunately, because you don’t know the meaning of too much information. I’m good with how things are. I’m meeting lots of women.”
“But you’re not a lots of women type of guy, Max. You like one woman at a time and for a long time. You’re in it for the relationships, dude.”
“I was,” I correct in a tight voice. “Things have changed.”
“Don’t let Caroline mess you up.”
I wince at the name. How can I not let the woman who left me for my father mess me up? I am messed up. I will always be messed up.
But I’m not about to tell Marcus that.
“I’m cool with it all.” I even sound like I am. Cool. Casual. Okay with it all. “Ancient history,” I add. “It was years ago.”
It wasn’t years. It was one year, ten months, and thirteen days since I found out my girlfriend had also been fucking my father.
Despite my casual words, my molars get a good grind. I don’t know what pisses me off—that I was completely clueless about the whole thing, or the fact I have to keep working for my father.
Marcus appraises me. “I don’t believe you. But,” —he rubs his hands together— “—it doesn’t matter. Tonight is the perfect night to start up again. I’ve found Callie so I’ve got the luck thing going for me. I’ll rub it off on you.”
“Dude, there’ll be no rubbing off on me at all tonight, or any night.”
His laughter booms out. “Let’s go and get you laid. Maybe you’ll fall in love.”
I doubt either of those things will happen, but I don’t tell Marcus that.
5
Cady
Noam’s arm hangs heavy over my waist, his hand resting on the bed, trapping me in place.
The room is dark, save for the crease of light under the bathroom door, and smells like Noam.
It’s a good smell; not the usual old-man smell. I bought him the bottle of Guerlain Tobacco and Honey cologne years ago as a last-minute Christmas gift, and he still swears by it.
Noam lost his third wife six years ago and still misses someone to hold at night.
I can’t say no.
