“Of course.” I followed her to the door, waiting while she locked up.
“Wolfe,” she said as I walked her to her car. “Can I give you some advice?”
“Sure.”
“I know you’re killing it. Rocking the commercial real estate scene. And you’ve done incredible for yourself. But there’s more to life than work.”
I barked out a laugh. “What do you thinkthisis?” I gestured toward the house.
“An expensive hobby? An outlet?”
I nodded. “Exactly. Flipping houses isn’t work. It’s fun.”
“I get that.” She grinned, but then her expression softened. “I do, but have you ever stopped to wonder when it will all be enough? When the money, the accolades, thestuffwill be enough?”
I lifted a shoulder, unnerved by how eerily accurate her observations were. But I wasn’t ready to admit it, wasn’t prepared to show a crack in my façade. I had everything. I had every reason to be happy.
But you’re not.
I’d achieved everything I’d set out to accomplish and more, and yet it felt hollow. I no longer felt the same kind of thrill I used to from closing a deal or scoring a new client.
My parents had worked their asses off to give me opportunities they’d never had. Opportunities they could’ve never dreamed of. And here I was, whining about my privileged life. If anything, my guilt spurred me to work harder. To seek happiness in my so-called perfect life.
So, instead of facing the truth, I buried it deeper. Because that’s what was expected of me. Always strive for more, reach higher. Push. Push. Push. It was in my DNA.
“Is it ever enough?” I asked.
“That.” She pointed at me. “That’s exactly the kind of attitude I’m talking about. Be careful, Wolfe.”
I shook away her concern, wishing I could rid myself of the feelings that accompanied it. “It’s fine.I’mfine,” I ground out.
She held my gaze a moment before finally opening the door to her car and sliding behind the wheel. I got the feeling she didn’t believe me, and I couldn’t say I blamed her.
* * *
There wasa knock at my office door, and I glanced up from my computer to find Ian standing in the doorway.
“You ready?” He had a basketball tucked beneath his arm, bag slung over his shoulder.
“Oh shit. I totally forgot. Is it Thursday already?”
“Yep. And it’s on your schedule, as always. Can’t believe I have to schedule an appointment with my best friend,” he grumbled, though I knew he was joking. He loved to give me shit for my insane schedule.
I pulled up my calendar, where it was indeed listed. Despite how busy I was, I always made time for my oldest, and best, friend. I hit “Send” on my email and closed my laptop before shoving it in my bag. “All right, then. Let’s go.”
I waved to my assistant as we passed his desk. “See you tomorrow, Cody.”
“Have a good night, Wolfe.”
“Thanks. You too.”
Ian and I headed for the elevator bank, riding it up to the rooftop gym. Weekly basketball games were a tradition we’d started in high school and one we continued to this day. All these years—decades—later.
“You ready to have your ass handed to you?” he teased.
“Are you, old man?” I followed him into the locker room to change.
“Maybe you should take a look in the mirror.” He smirked, but then his expression turned serious. “Seriously, though. Are you feeling okay? You look like shit.”
