“So?” I feign nonchalance, but what is he getting at?
Josh takes a sip of his coffee. “I know the girl you’re looking for is scarred. On her back, to be specific.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“It’s been over twenty years. You’ve been careful, but nothing stays hidden for that long, especially when you searched for her so desperately.”
Suddenly, I realize Greg hasn’t sent a report about Queen, and I haven’t been thinking about her over the last few weeks. Sudden guilt pierces my heart like broken glass.Am I forgetting her? Abandoning her like The Fogeys would like me to?
At the same time, the voice that sounds awfully like Grandmother says,It’s time to let go. Sometimes things are simply not meant to be. Pursue a happiness that’s close to you rather than one far away. Queen wouldn’t want you to spend so much energy and effort searching for her if the cost is living a good life. She didn’t rescue you for that.
Queen was too young to think that far ahead—but she might be disappointed now if she knew the amount of time and money I’ve spent on looking for her over the last twenty-two years. I learned a long time ago that there are certain things I can’t do anything about. However, it’s bittersweet to consider the possibility that she and I may never cross paths again.
“If you never find her again…” Josh sighs. “I don’t know exactly why you’re looking for her. You can’t possibly think you’re going to fall in love with her and marry her, or something far-fetched like that. But if you’re hoping to pay her back,just pay it forward instead. If she’s the kind of woman worth searching for over twenty years, she would love that.”
I nod slowly. “Yes. She would.” The realization comes with pain and disappointment. It isn’t easy to let go of something I’ve been obsessing over for so long.
He clasps my shoulder. “Anyway, I gotta go wrap up some motions. You coming to poker tonight?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”
Contrary to what I told my wife this afternoon, I don’t have to work past seven thirty today. Actually, tonight is the monthly poker night with my brothers, with Bryce hosting it at his place. Although we see one another regularly, it’s mostly at work, and all of us are usually too busy to spend more than a minute or two saying hello.
Besides, it’s a tradition we’ve kept since the kidnapping because the therapist said we needed a way to cope with our emotions—me dealing with the trauma of the near-death experience, and the twins struggling with the guilt that they left me behind when they fled with my help. I told them after my return that I was glad they weren’t stuck in the cabin with me. I was older and bigger, and it was my job to keep my baby brothers safe. But they still couldn’t let go.
The therapist suggested a game night, saying spending time together without talking about the kidnapping or its aftermath might be useful. Just once a week, and we weren’t allowed to dwell on the past event anymore. Behave how we would’ve without the kidnapping—without guilt or pain or loathing or self-recrimination.
We tried a few different board games, but eventually settled on poker. We were all about equally good at it, the game could go on as long as we wanted to play, and we liked to test our luck.
But deciding on a game wasn’t the hard part. It was learning to let go, which took years. Then we gradually started to talkabout things that most boys would—cars, sports, anime, manga and girls. Well, the last was never on my list, but it was on my brothers’. We even continued our poker nights at Harvard once the twins started college, then later in law school.
I head to Bryce’s place after taking care of a couple of emails from anxious clients. He lives not too far away in a mansion that’s more of a fortress than a home. Stone walls and turrets and windows that are probably bulletproof. His garden is full of succulents. He says he likes his landscape low maintenance and pretty.
On the round table in the dining room, the various cheeses, sliced roast beef, pork and crackers that Bryce had catered sit on a lazy Susan. There’s also a humidor full of Padrón Cigars 1926 Serie Maduro, two bottles of Pétrus 2020 and a Hanyu 2000, which goes to show just how much Bryce loves us; the distillery shut down in 2004, and there isn’t any more lying around to buy even if you have the cash. But he’s never letting us touch his Hanyu Ichiro Malt card series. His love only extends so far.
“You look like shit,” Bryce observes lightly as he checks his hand.
“He always looks like shit.” Josh puffs on his cigar while glaring at the cards he’s been dealt. I’d assume that he got a shitty hand if it were anybody else, but not Josh. He’ll bluff and lie like a heartless dog to win.
“Don’t like what I have.” I look at mine again. A pair of fours. If one of the community cards is a four, I’ll have three of a kind. Not bad.
If only I had a bit of the luck that I have with poker with my wife—
The acid I’ve become familiar with after marrying Lareina burns in my gut. I seethed with jealousy at seeing her being so chummy with Ethan Beckman, and she couldn’t have been calmer when she talked about Soledad. Not a ripple of interestwhen she casually mentioned my ex’s “pregnancy,” which is a damn lie. Barnyard animals will stageThe Nutcrackerbefore Soledad gets pregnant with my baby.
“By the way, what were you so smug about this afternoon?” Josh says to Bryce.
“Me? Smug?”
“You looked like a cat after a successful hunt,” Josh says.
“There was some kind of commotion,” I say, trying not to dwell on my situation with Lareina. The whole office buzzed about it, whispers rising from every desk.
“Well.” A corner of Bryce’s mouth lifts. “An uninvited guest interrupted my day, and my assistant did her best to keep her out, but…” He shrugs, then deals the community cards.
The four of clubs. Great. I toss another chip onto the pile. Each chip is worth a hundred to make the math easy. Bryce and Josh toss in a couple to call.
“Who managed to get past Amélie?” I can’t think of anybody who would barrel into his office like that, especially with his assistant in the way. Amélie might look like a delicate flower, but she can be a battle-ax when she needs to be.
