Page 70 of Mister Cowboy
His cell rang again, and he sighed loudly into the empty apartment.
“What’s up, Martin?” Brecken answered into the phone.
“Good, you’re alive. Now open the front door.”
He stared at the door of his apartment for a beat before he heard Martin’s voice from the other side. “Open the damn door, Brecken.”
Crossing the room, he flipped the lock and let the door swing open as he returned to the couch.
Martin tossed a folded newspaper in his lap and took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. “You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit,” Brecken said, eyeing theWall Street Journalin front of him.
“Tina’s worried.”
“The business is fine. Hell, I’ve worked more in the last few days than I have over the past month.
“She isn’t worried about the company. She’s worried about you. Anyway, I’ll save you the lectures. That’s only partly why I’m here.” He pointed to the newspaper. “Get your head out of your ass and turn to page two.”
Shooting him an annoyed glare, Brecken flipped through the pages. The crinkling of the paper grated on his nerves, and his pulse pounded against his temples. No more drinking.
“An old friend of mine has stepped down from his job at a large agricultural company. He’s looking for something new. Something fresh.”
Brecken scanned the article as his heart rate accelerated and the adrenaline pumped through his veins like it had when he was starting out and landing deals.
“This looks too good to be true.”
“It would be if I hadn’t called him and sang your praises. He’s coming into town next week. I got you a meeting—don’t screw it up.”
Brecken nodded. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. You’re great at what you do. He’d be crazy not to make a deal.” Martin stood and Brecken followed suit, walking him to the door. He shoved his hands in his pockets and hung his head.
“Either way. I appreciate it. It’s the best news I’ve had all week.”
Martin studied him carefully for a moment and then laid a hand on his shoulder. “Take a shower, clean yourself up, and go see her.”
“I don’t think I’m going to be welcome.”
“So, let her yell at you a bit, throw you out, and then slam the door. Then, you need to go back the next day and try again. Women love putting us in our place.” With a friendly pat, he was gone.
Running a hand over the scruff that had taken residence on his face, Brecken looked at the state of his apartment and groaned. His laptop and papers were strewn on the coffee table, empty beer bottles and takeout boxes littered the counter of his kitchen.
He’d accepted his fate, but he hadn’t been brave enough to face it yet. He couldn’t go to the office and see Nadia. Seeing her would remind him of what he lost, and that wasn’t fair to her.
He picked up a few empty food containers and tossed them in the trash. God, he missed January. Martin said to go see her, but what could he possibly say?
He showered, shaved, and dressed to see her even while telling himself he couldn’t. That he wouldn’t be welcome. That he was doing exactly what his father had done. That he’d made up his mind to do the responsible thing, which was to let January go.
But he had to see her one last time.
39
January
“That’sthe last of it,” she said as Timothy carried the last box to the back of his truck and closed the tailgate.
Edward pulled up, and Timothy gave her a bear hug, picking her up off the ground. “We’re going to miss you around here.”
