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Gavin groans. “You have no idea,” he says and casually swings off his cap with a practiced flick. “Had a new client today, and they just kept going on and on about their last marketing specialist. ‘He did this; he did that; he made me do this.’ Well, good for him—but I’m not him. Clearly, he wasn’t that good if you decided to leave his ass and get a different one. Give it a rest, and fucking do what I say. But you know, customer service and all that shit. Just gotta smile and nod.”
“I’m telling you,” I raise my beer, clinking it with his, “you should open your own place.”
“Yeah, but then I’m also financially responsible for it. ’Cause, you know, all that takes is money.”
I shrug. “Small price to pay.”
“Says the billionaire.”
Gavin acts like I’m some pampered trust fund kid. Sure, I have amassed wealth, but it’s from savvy investments and grinding it out. My folks are regular middle-class Americans, no silver spoons here. “You’ve got money in the bank. Don’t act like you’re scrimping and saving to make ends meet.”
“I live comfortably,” Gavin insists. “If I bought my own office, then I wouldn’t be able to afford this place.”
“Wouldn’t be a bad trade-off.”
“You’re just saying that because you secretly want the whole floor to yourself.”
“Maybe a little.” I grin before taking a swig of my beer.
“Besides, starting a new agency from scratch is fucking ridiculous. There’s so much you have to do. First thing’s first, you have to find the right place. Just like every business, location is everything…”
I start to tune him out. It isn’t that I don’t care about my friend’s problems, it’s that I’ve heard them all before. Gavin is a great guy, but he errs on the side of caution. I’ve lost track of the number of times we’ve had this exact conversation.
Gavin seems to notice my lack of attention, because he waves his hand in front of my face. “Hello? Earth to D. You there, bud?”
“Whatever you want to do, man,” I say. “It’s your life.”
“No, no, don’t try to act like you were paying attention.” Gavin calls me out. “I saw the glazed-over look in your eyes. Are my problems too boring for you?”
“No, I’ve just heard them all before.” I shrug and take a long pull of my beer. “Gavin, if you want your own office with your own clients, just go for it. I would.”
Gavin studies me with narrowed eyes. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”
His question comes so far out of left field that it takes me a second to register what he means. “Who?”
“Don’t ‘who’ me. The chick you fucked last night. You gave up that argument way too fast. I know you, bro. You never waste an opportunity to tell me exactly what I should be doing with my life.”
“Big deal if I’m right. When life offers you a chance, you take it. Don’t label me the asshole.”
“You’re not,” Gavin assures me, his tone lightening. “I mean, not all the time.” He shoots me a smartass grin and when I keep quiet, he adds, “I wish I had half as much determination and ambition as you do. You said earlier that you weren’t sure if you were going to see this girl again, and I don’t think that’s sitting as well with you as it usually does.”
With a sigh, I put down my beer and lean against the counter. “I haven’t decided what I feel about the whole situation,” I say. “And that pisses me off.”
“Damn, how good was the sex that you’re still thinking about it? I’ve known you to have one-night stands before, and they never distracted you like this.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know those women as well as I know Lizzie. Or at least, knew her. It’s been a long time.”
“When did you guys meet?”
“Back in high school.”
Understanding seems to wash over Gavin, and he gives a long, “Ohhhhhh.”
“What? Ohhh fucking what?”
“High school crushes. Those are brutal, D. I still remember my biggest high school crush.” He sighs dramatically, as if reliving a battle scar from teenage love. “Rebecca Sparks. Man, I wonder what she’s doing now. Glorious tits. Glorious everything.”
“I’m sure that’s part of it,” I tell him. “We did have some unresolved tension between us, the good kind—that’s definitely resolved now.”
