Page 35 of Look Don't Touch


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Shay hugged it in her arms again. "Thanks. I'm actually becoming quite attached to it." She stretched her legs out and stared down at her bare feet. "I remember the beach was deserted and most of the lights along the path were broken. We took off our shoes. I'd only ever experienced hot sand, and I was giggling at how cold it felt between my toes. My mom laughed with me for a second, and I was relieved. I was sure the beach was going to help her mood. We walked down to the water and sat in the moist sand. The waves looked scary and black and I kept imagining ugly tentacle-limbed creatures lurking on the sandy bottom."

Shay stopped and took a slow breath. Her expression said it all. I knew what was coming next. My throat tightened. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt a lump in my throat.

"My mom stood up and brushed the sand off her pants. She leaned over and kissed the top of my head and told me I was the only star that ever twinkled in her dark sky. I was trying to figure out what was happening." Shay's voice wavered. "It all happened so fast. She ran into the water, and I assured myself she'd turn around soon. But she didn't. She just kept swimming. I jumped up and ran in knee deep. But I couldn't swim. I screamed for her so loud and so long, I couldn't talk for days afterward. And there was no one around, no one to hear me. I just remember her long hair disappearing beneath the surface. She never came up for air. They found her body two days later a mile down the coast on some rocks."

"Holy shit, Shay."

She sucked in a long shuddering breath. "Don't get me wrong, up until that major parenting misstep, my mom had been great. We never had much and we always struggled. She did have her low moments, but we were good friends. I guess that made losing her that much harder. And I did go through a period where I was mad as hell at her for killing herself right in front of me. But the more I read about depression, the more I realized she just wasn't in a place to make normal decisions, the more I learned to forgive her. Yes, I grew up with love but happiness was sporadic, and there was nothing normal about my childhood. Afterward, I went to live with my grandmother, who wanted me about as much as she wanted the painful arthritis in her gnarled fingers." She relaxed back, still clutching the pillow.

I badly wanted to hold her, and for once, the thought of touching her had nothing to do with sex.

16

Shay's eyes had nearly popped from her head when I showed her the exercise room. She had spent most of the morning in there working out and dancing. I could have and probably should have sat in the room and watched her. I was, after all, in a self-imposed sex rehab. But I had a few calls to make, and I found myself not wanting to intrude on her workout. Somehow it seemed creepy, which was saying a lot considering the terms of our agreement.

I pulled up Rob Nixon, a guy who had made his first million in the stock market by the ripe age of twenty-one. Other than Jack, I kept most of my acquaintances at an arm's length. If I didn't need them for business, I didn't need them at all. But Rob was my age, and we had enough in common that we had formed a casual friendship. Rob was into outdoor extreme sports. I was sure he could lead me to some up and coming entrepreneurs in need of serious investors.

"Archer, is that you?" Rob asked as he answered the phone.

"It's me, Rob. How are you doing?"

"Not bad. Made a good chunk of change off some medicinal marijuana stocks. A little company that's on the cutting edge of new stuff. What about you?" he asked and quickly added. "I heard you and Grant parted ways. What are you up to now?"

"Starting my own business, DNA Investments. I'm thinking of narrowing my focus to outdoor adventure."

"Smart move. Outdoor adventure is blowing up. Those guys with the fold-up kayak just passed the hundred million mark. I take it you're going to the big party tonight. Every big equity firm will be there to make small talk and find big deals. In fact, there are a few new entrepreneurs attending that I think you'll want to meet. One group is three women from Harvard who have come up with some lightweight but seemingly indestructible metal frames for bicycles. I'll look for you and introduce you."

I hesitated, feeling like an ass for not even knowing about the party. "I've been sort of off the grid, Rob. Whose party is it?"

"Shit, you have been off the grid. Everyone's been talking about this stupid shindig for weeks. Peyton and Sons, the investment bankers, are throwing it at their Beverly Hills estate, where they have their annual summer party. Naturally, it's invitation only. Didn't you get the invite?" I didn't answer. "Hey, let me text Everett Peyton and let him know to email you an invite. You probably just missed seeing it." He paused our conversation to send the text.

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