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Hayden’s younger brother, Law is scooting a lilac-haired hottie off his lap, and joins us at the bar. Hayden explains to her that Law’s moved on.

Old-school Hayden would already have had lilac hair upstairs long before his little brother would have had a crack at her. The dude always worked fast, but he’s locked up his libido for anyone other than the love of his life, Lizzie. They live in Paris, and sometimes it’s hard to talk to Lizzie because it reminds me of the one thing in my life I never got to keep.

Lawerence splashes his drink as he gestures, and the droplets fly about, then slams a shot of something clear and dangerous.

I toast him, “To the greatest pitcher Arizona will ever know.”

Law slams his hand on the bar and yells, “Fuck yeah!”

I adjust my turquoise shirt and sip my beer.

Law leans back on the bar, propping himself up on his elbows, and surveys the room. “Why the hell aren’t we at some fancy bullshit your wife planned. The kind where I’d have to think twice before I adjust my crotch in public?”

He winks as a group of women walk by. I’m not sure I can stop him from getting every venereal disease there is tonight. We can all pull, but not like him.

Ignoring all the women recognizing him, the oldest of us, Robbie, skulks up. He’s recently retired from the NHL but has no need for puck bunnies. He’s been locked down since he met Claire in middle school. Robbie’s the protector, Hayden’s the artistic one, and Law, the cocky one. Scratch that. They’re all cocky as fuck.

Hayden slaps me on the back and says, “Feels like you’re denying Laura media coverage for her pretty dress. The king of Ladd Media is turning thirty.” I wish they’d fucking let this go. I’m not ready to admit shit to them.

Dax, my actual brother, chimes in. “He’s getting a divorce, so we’re doing this instead.” I hang my head. It’s fresh, but now I know she’s contacted our family attorney. Which means my fucking parents know as well. I was going to tell them, but I went to Vegas instead. I actually asked Laura if she wanted to come here and get a quickie divorce; she smiled wickedly and said no.

Fortunately, there’s a prenup, but after two years, she’s got a pretty nice payout coming if she doesn’t fight for more. My last divorce was messy as hell. The one before that was easy, cut and dry. But the marriage lasted only three months. Basically, when we sobered up, we realized it was a mistake. But she got a lovely half million as a parting gift. She was the bargain bride. I still talk to that one occasionally.

Robbie’s voice booms from the barstool three down. “Holy hell. Again?”

Hayden puts his hand on my shoulder. “So, you fucked up again?”

I jerk his hand away, and Colton arrives just in time for the story.

“Tony, fuck up, nah. That’s impossible,” Colt says as he pulls me into a hug, then makes the rounds backslapping the others.

Of course, I’m the screw-up again. I know I’d say the same thing to them, but fuck them if I don’t feel every jab like it’s a fresh wound after the last couple of days. I lost a deal on a new social media platform which turned out to be a colossal mess and made everyone remember my billion-dollar disaster from a couple of years ago.

I’m going to flip this script so I can have a good time tonight instead of wallowing. I want to be with my friends and that’s it. I don’t want to be Tony Ladd, Media Mogul, tonight, just Tony.

I stand on a barstool and look down upon these men.

“Gentlemen, despite my lack of maiden, or marriage I can make work, I would choose to be with you assholes every fucking time.” I reach down, grab a bottle of Dom, and proceed to spray them down. Dax wipes his face with a cocktail napkin and puts down the family black card.

Hayden grins. “We’re not going to remember a thing in the morning, are we?”

Law says, “Not if we do this right. Colt, you in?” He hesitates for a moment then stares straight at me.

“Happy thirtieth, asshole.” Colt takes the bottle from me and swigs while we all cheer.

I thrust my hand up in the air as I jump down. “Let’s ride, gentlemen. To adventure!” I head off into the night, so I don’t think about having another failed marriage.

There’s a haze of cigar smoke over our heads like a halo of sin. Law has just returned to us from banging our waitress. His grin says all the things polite company wouldn’t want to discuss. He grabs a Scotch from our private bar and lights a cigar as well.

“Can we discuss this divorce of yours?” Colt changes the subject, and they all lean in a bit from their leather-backed chairs this club has provided. We dined on steak and sipped Scotch, doing all the manly things. We’ll go clubbing in a moment, but for a second, I wanted it to be us.

Dax nods at me.

“Laura used to be fun, warm, sweet, but she changed. Usually I can pinpoint some dickish behavior on my part, but there wasn’t any. I thought our friendship was enough for a marriage. Until we fought so much that one day I bought her a condo, hired a crew to pack her shit then handed her a card and a key to her her new address.”

“You kicked her out?” Law asks.

“Ok, maybe I was a little dickish at the end. But she left willingly in a chauffeured Bentley. She’s fine. No one told me I shouldn’t have married her.”