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Prologue
OLIVER
Ayear ago, my life was perfect. I was the guy every guy wanted to be, and the man every woman wanted to fuck. I had the face, the body, the position, and the kind of self-assured confidence that came from knowing exactly where I fit in the world.
Let me be clear: I wasn’t an asshole. Right now I probably sound like an asshole, and maybe now I am. But a year ago? I was entitled, that’s all. I didn’t have to think about much. Life was good. It was fucking amazing, actually, and I was just riding the wave.
I’d had every privilege. I grew up with the ideal family, raised by a self-made man and a hardworking woman. I’d gone to a prestigious college, been star of the swim team and kicked ass in my classes. Believe it or not, I chose to go to school near home. That’s how close I was to the people who raised me. I actually liked them and wanted to see them.Often. I took that for granted. I took a lot of things for granted.
While I was still in high school, I told my genius dad about an idea I had. We found a way to apply technology to sports, to deliver statistics to the people who made bets and built pro teams. We made them rich, basically, and it made us rich. Dad ran the company until I got out of college. Then I was CEO, and Dad chaired the board. Mom tended roses and took the time she’d never had before to enjoy what she’d missed while working and raising me.
I even had the perfect girl. I was on the brink of marrying her.
Everything was fucking perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
It turns out that when you have everything you need in life, it’s still possible to wake up and realize you have no clue what youwant.
I left the company, left my girlfriend, left everything behind.
I was surfing in South Africa when Dad’s lawyer called. Everything I’d taken for granted was shattered in a single moment. The news and the paperwork that came with it obliterated all traces of the guy I’d once thought I was, the guy I’d spent years trying to be, and the guy I’d been trying to become.
That phone call was six weeks ago. Before that I might have been confused about who I wanted to be, but I still wasn’t an asshole.
Today? Yeah. Today I probably am an asshole.
CHAPTER 1
Oliver
Maybe coming back to the company had been part of my plan all along. When I’d left, it felt like there was no plan, like for the first time in my life I was doing something spontaneous, something that surprised even me. As I had prostrated myself to the triple deities of sun, surf, and utter irresponsibility, I’d envisioned coming to some definitive understanding of myself. It would be like a bright light, a certainty about who I was meant to be, what I was really meant to do.
I imagined I’d be standing on my surfboard, riding that razor-thin edge between exhilaration and disaster—the water about to crash over my head, my board always milliseconds from toppling off the crest. It would be at that impossible moment, hanging between ecstasy and utter destruction, when something would come to me. I believed that my subconscious mind had been busy, even while I propelledmyself through clubs and bars, drinking and dancing, surfing during the day and flirting as the sun fell and came up again. I honestly thought my psyche would assemble every past experience, every inkling of who I’d ever been, into a logical map to show me where I needed to go. Where Iwantedto go. Because up until then, I’d never wanted anything I’d been aware of. My life had been perfect. So perfect I’d had to rip it away in order to step back and evaluate it.
“You’re doing what?” my dad had asked, incredulous as I’d handed him my letter of resignation. “Oliver, the CEO doesn’t just resign.”
“Most CEOs aren’t born into their positions, Dad. I need to know I have the option.”
“Okay, you have the option. But right now? We need you here, son.” Dad had looked confused, distraught.
“I’m not sure you do.” Dad had made me CEO, with the board’s approval, as soon as I’d graduated from college. I’d known that was the plan since I’d graduated from high school. I’d never had the option, and since I’d been CEO of Cody Technology, I wasn’t sure I’d actually done a damned thing. I hadn’t done anything myself, anyway. Dad was always there to help, to steer, to guide.
I’d walked away because I’d needed time to float. Time to be lost.
Celia had been even less pleased than my father. “Ollie, wait. What?” Her perfect face had formed into a mask of utter shock, and the tears had been immediate, almost theatric. “But . . . the wedding?”
We’d been engaged less than a month. Maybe that had been the catalyst that had launched me toward this journey. How could I get married if I didn’t even know who I was? Celia had been a setup, the daughter of a board member, one of my dad’s best friends. She was gorgeous, had all the right credentials, and was perfect in every way. But maybe not perfect for me.
“I’ll be back,” I told her. But I didn’t tell her where I was going or ask her to keep in touch. And I hadn’t spoken to her in the six months I’d spent crossing the beaches of the world.
A shadow had fallen across my face as I’d lain dozing in the sand, my board plunged into the white grit next to me and the waves crashing ceaselessly at my feet. A masculine voice pulled me back to consciousness, the now-familiar South African slang for “bro” directed at me. “Ag, boet. Phone call.”
I’d squinted my eyes open to find Bergie from the resort standing above me with a cellphone. I hadn’t brought my own phone overseas. Only my mom knew where I was, and she’d promised to give me time and space. My dad might have known, but since he wasn’t speaking to me, I didn’t need to worry about him calling. I was twenty-six years old, but I still felt obligated to let Mom know I was safe. I owed my parents that much at least.
“Thanks,” I said, sitting up and reaching a hand out as I steeled myself to speak to my mother, Sonja. She had called only once so far. I smiled as I lifted the phone to my ear, shaking my head. I still felt lucky, and that feelingflooded me as I thought of my parents that day. Even if I felt an inkling of itchy annoyance that Mom needed to check in from halfway around the world, I was lucky she cared enough to do it.
I’d been smiling as I’d said hello, staring out at the vast open ocean and wishing in some strange way that Mom were actually here. Maybe just for a couple days. Maybe I’d suggest they come visit. The time away from everything hadn’t gotten me closer to figuring out what it was I was supposed to be doing with my life, but it had made me realize what a rare gift I had in my relationship with my parents, and I regretted the way I’d left things with my father.
