Page 13 of Lost Trust

Jovie snorts into her drink as I fish my good hand into my pocket and toss a stack of bills on the bar.

“What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m just impressed.”

“With?”

“You turned down the hottest buckle bunny in the building.”

“Yeah, what was that? She practically gift-wrapped herself,” Axle says.

I shrug and wince.

He narrows his eyes and points at me. “Damn, you must have really hurt yourself.” He looks back at the bunny, who is now wrapped around Blaze, who looks more than happy to have her help him shower off the day. “She probably would have been an eager nurse.”

“Can’t a guy just want to celebrate with his big brother?”

He looks back at me, and for a second, the noise around us fades. It’s just the two of us. Two little boys who grew up chasing impossible dreams in the Wyoming dirt.

One of us reached the top tonight.

The other …

Well, I’m suddenly not so sure where my road goes from here. My shoulder throbs beneath my sleeve, and I have the fleeting thought that maybe this is the beginning of the end, but I quickly shove it aside.

It can wait.

Tonight belongs to dreams coming true, not ones possibly coming to an end.

Marina

I watch as the numbers above the brushed-steel elevator doors blink downward in quiet succession.

Thirty-one.

Thirty.

Twenty-nine.

Each chime feels like the world dropping out from beneath me.

I stare at my reflection in the polished doors. My mascara hasn’t run yet, but my eyes have that glassy look they get when I’m trying very hard not to cry.

My accountant was kind, which somehow made everything worse.

“You’ve done better than most athletes who are forced into retiring too soon. You’ve invested wisely and stretched your winnings further than anyone expected,” he said as he looked over the papers in his hand. Then his eyes lifted to me. “But, Marina … the well is dry.”

Dry.

A strange way to describe the end of a life.

The folder tucked beneath my arm suddenly feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. Inside are account balances, spreadsheets, and a list of things I already knew.

Time to sell the luxury condo. Get out from under the pricey HOA. Turn in my leased Mercedes and get an affordable used car. Cut every unnecessary expense. And most importantly, find employment.

Quickly.

I almost laugh.