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He’s going to the door, but I’m right there with him. “Are you unhappy with the way I handled it?”
He stops abruptly and turns, and I crash into his rock-hard chest. Strong hands grip my upper arms, steadying me and holding me back. My breath disappears, and that chemistry… that ever-present chemistry flares between us.
I know he feels it. The firm line of his jaw moves, and his eyes roam hot over my face before he releases me. “No.”
That’s all I get. He turns and leaves the conference room.
The door slowly closes, and I put my hand on the back of a chair, trying to catch my breath, trying to piece together what just happened.
Forget what I told Jerry yesterday. I’m going out with the staff tonight. I want to get to the bottom of this.
6
Patton
Taron paces the room, arms crossed over his chest, pinching the front of his lips. “What the fuck, Marley? You almost lost us Madagascar.”
I’m sitting behind my desk with my foot crossed over my knee watching him. If Marley’s high, it doesn’t matter what we say to him now. He won’t remember any of it.
“I drove you home last night… Did you go out again?” It’s an easy question, and it’ll at least help me locate him mentally.
He sits on my leather couch with his forearms propped on his knees, looking at the floor and not answering.
He doesn’t have to answer. I know he did.
Taron doesn’t sit. He paces across my office, picking up the framed photo of the four of us in Venezuela. “Do you need to go back to Oak Grove?”
That gets his attention. “Fuck off, Taron. I’m not going back to that place.”
Pressing against my knees, I stand and turn to the window. Forcing him into rehab doesn’t work. We’ve tried it, but I’m at the end of my ability to carry him. I can’t have him scaring off business—or insulting them… or getting mixed up in some scandal, which is a worse PR nightmare.
Turning back, I temper my tone. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.” His voice is low now, and when he looks up at me, his blue eyes are so tired, it feels like a punch in the gut. “It’s not getting better.”
Inhaling slowly, I nod. “You want to talk to someone?”
“I just want to live my life. What’s left of it.”
/> Taron puts the photo down and takes a halting step toward him. “That’s why you need to go back to treatment.”
Marley pushes away from him. He’ll fight with Taron, but he’ll listen to me. I guess it goes back to the days when we were in country. I was always our leader. “You haven’t slept since Tuesday. It gets worse when you don’t sleep. You know this. I don’t have to tell you.”
“I dream when I sleep.” He finally stands and walks over to my desk, opening the small wooden box and taking out a cigarette. I watch as he lights it up and takes a long pull. “Let’s go to AJ’s. It’s happy hour, and we could have a drink, talk about old times. It’ll be like it was.”
My eyes cut to Taron, and his expression is stony. We’re not making any progress here, but I’m willing to try anything that might get him through this. It’s cyclical. We know what to expect. He just needs a babysitter for a little while.
Pulling on my blazer, I loosen my tie and slip it over my head. “I think we could do that.” Rolling it slowly, I put it in my desk drawer. “Taron, can you call it a day?”
He studies my face a beat then nods, seeming to understand what I’m doing. “Yeah. I’m waiting on a call back from Dubai, but I booked a meet and greet with Abu Dhabi next week, after the holiday.”
Marley blinks up at him. “Holiday?”
Taron narrows his eyes. “If you bothered with regular hours, you’d know Monday is Labor Day.”
“Ah…” He waves us away. “Labor Day isn’t a holiday.”
Leading them out the door, I don’t bother arguing. “Sandra? I’m out for the day. I’m expecting contracts from Rickey’s firm. Text me if they don’t arrive by five.”
