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One
Zane Patterson’s heart was hammering. His T-shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to his shoulders. “I need to get out of this town. That’s all there is to it.” He dribbled the basketball with his right hand.Thump. Thump. Thump.Switching to his left, Zane waited for his opening—his chance to drive past his best friend, Scott Randall. Their weekly game of one-on-one was tied. One more point and victory was Zane’s. So very close. He did not like to lose. He hated it.
“Dude. You’ve been saying that since high school. It’s been fifteen years.” Laser-focused on Zane’s every move, Scott shuffled from side to side, hands high, low and anywhere Zane dared to even think about looking. Scott didn’t allow himself to get distracted by the perspiration raining down from the top of his shiny bald head. He only cared about not giving up the final point. “You either need to leave or get over it.”
The reason for leaving—Joshua Lowell—popped into Zane’s head. Zane despised him. He had the smuggest smile, like he was perfectly comfortable with the silver spoon firmly lodged in his mouth at birth. The entirety of Falling Brook, New Jersey, put that jerk on a pedestal, even when his father had destroyed lives and families, including Zane’s. Deep down, Zane loved his hometown, but being here was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.Get over it? No way.
Thump.He palmed the ball.Thump.Left.Thump.Right.Thump.Back left. He dropped his shoulder, slipped around Scott and beelined for the basket. With Scott in hot pursuit but several strides behind him, Zane finger-rolled the ball for a layup. It circled the rim. And popped back out. Scott grabbed the rebound, spun away from Zane and hoisted up a perfect jumper. Nothing but net.
Dammit.
“Yes!” Scott darted under the basket and snatched the ball. “Rematch? Best two out of three?”
Zane bent over, clutching the hem of his basketball shorts and planting the heels of his hands on his knees. “No.” The competitive part of him wanted the win. Needed it. Playing basketball was one of the only activities that had ever made him happy. He’d been at it since he could walk, precisely the reason he had an indoor court installed when his company, Patterson Marketing, took off and they built their own state-of-the-art office building. But he was too exhausted to compete. Or fight. Mentally, more than anything. “I’m done.”
“This Joshua Lowell thing is really getting to you, isn’t it?” Scott rested the ball on his hip, letting the weight of his forearm hold it in place.
“I can’t get away from it. The anniversary article was supposed to remind everyone what crooks the Lowells are, how they destroyed lives, how they can never be trusted. Instead, Josh’s engagement to Sophie Armstrong is all anyone is talking about. It’s everywhere. Facebook. Twitter. The Java Hut. My own freaking staff meeting.”
“It’s a big deal. He’s stepping away from BC. Nobody saw that coming.”
BC.The initials for Black Crescent were enough to make Zane cringe. The hedge fund, founded by Joshua Lowell’s father, Vernon, had been an ultraexclusive avenue of investment for the superrich. Zane’s family had once breathed the rarefied air of those on the limited client list, and for a time, the world was sunshine and roses. There was no shortage of money, and Zane’s life was golden—king of the school at Falling Brook Prep, captain of the basketball team, parents happily married. Then Vernon disappeared with millions, Zane’s family was left penniless and his parents’ marriage was destroyed.
Losing their family fortune meant that Zane had been moved from Prep to the public high school at the age of sixteen. It was another brutal adjustment, especially since the kids at Falling Brook High treated Zane like the rich kid who needed to be taken down a notch or two. They had no idea Zane was already at rock bottom. The only consolation was that he’d met Scott there, and they’d been best friends ever since.
Scott saved Zane, mostly from himself. Scott didn’t give a damn about the money; he only wanted to help, and he only wanted to be friends. They were solid from day one. When Zane’s mom and dad fought, which was often, Scott’s parents allowed Zane to seek refuge at their house. It was an oasis of calm—the one place happiness seemed possible. One of the best parts of those stays was spending time with Scott’s younger sister, Allison. She was the coolest, smartest and most creative person Zane had ever met. She was supercute, too, but Zane had always looked past that. She was Scott’s sister, and Zane would never, ever go there. Never.
“Did you see Josh’s press conference? Did you hear what he said? ‘She brought me out of the dark with her love’? ‘Because she loves me, I am worthy’? What a load of crap.” Zane didn’t enjoy being so bitter, but the fifteen years since Vernon Lowell disappeared had done nothing to assuage his pain over his entire life crumbling to dust. As far as Zane was concerned, all Lowells—Vernon; his wife, Eve; and his kids, Joshua, Jake and Oliver—were pure poison. He didn’t want to see any of them happy.
“You know what they say. Love makes everything better.”
Zane shot Scott a look. Romantic love was a farce. It rarely, if ever, lasted. Zane’s parents were a classic example. Yes, they’d been tested when Vernon Lowell stole every penny they had, but wasn’t love supposed to conquer all? Not from where Zane was sitting. “Said like a very married man.”
“Don’t get salty because I’m happy. Last time I checked, there wasn’t a law against it.”
Zane grumbled under his breath. He didn’t want to continue this part of their conversation.
The two men wandered over to the corner of the gym to grab the six-pack of microbrew Scott had stashed in the fully stocked beverage fridge. Zane was more of a tequila or mescal guy, but after a game, there was nothing better than knocking back a cold beer. They took it outside to the patio, where employees often enjoyed their lunch or an afternoon meeting if the weather was nice. A warm June night, the air was sweet and a bit heavy with humidity, but there was a pleasant breeze. Zane and Scott sat at a table, and Scott popped open the first two bottles. They clinked them to toast.
Zane took in a deep breath, washing down his resentment with that first sip of beer, trying to remind himself that he really did love it here. “I never should have gone to Joshua Lowell at the bar and told him I knew about the DNA report because I was the one who gave it to Sophie for the article about Black Crescent. I should have let him wonder who her sources were. I should have let him stew in his own juices. That’s what he deserves.” He took another long draw of his drink. That had been a difficult confrontation. Just seeing Joshua Lowell face-to-face was enough to make him physically ill. “I wanted him to know that he wasn’t as high and mighty as everyone thought. That I knew who he really was.”
Zane remembered the odd jolt that went through his body when he received the DNA report in the mail, saying that Josh had a daughter and was refusing to take responsibility. It hadn’t occurred to Zane just how peculiar it was for someone to have sent that to him. He hadn’t even thought too hard about why the anonymous sender would pick him as the recipient. He’d only known that it was ammunition to take down a Lowell, and that had been more than enough. “The whole point of talking to Sophie was to finally tell the world that Josh Lowell is not the savior everyone thinks he is. I even gave her personal photos to use, to show her I was a legit source. Somehow that all backfired. The DNA bombshell never made it into the anniversary article, because I picked a reporter with scruples. Now everyone seems to adore him even more than before. Just in time for him to fall in love with a beautiful woman, decide to get married and conveniently step away from Black Crescent, which is the main reason to hate him. He’s getting off without a scratch, just like his dad.”
Scott shook his head, the corner of his mouth turned up in a pitying smirk. “Maybe you do need a break. Get away.”
“Or move.”
Scott set his elbow on the table, pointing at Zane with his beer bottle. “You cannot move. I need you.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Half a beer in? I don’t think so. It’s the truth. You’re like a brother to me. And honestly, I think you need me. Who else is going to listen to you bitch about this?”
Scott wasn’t wrong. He grounded Zane and helped him stay away from his inevitable downward spiral. “Okay. So where do I go? I need a beach, preferably with lots of women.”
“It does not surprise me that you would say that.”
Zane let a quiet laugh leave his lips. Yes, he had been with a lot of women over the years. That was his escape. No strings attached, no messy feelings getting in the way. In high school, it had been to numb the effects of his fall from grace. The poor former rich kid proved an easy target for other guys, but the girls didn’t see it that way. His money and status might have been gone, but the body he’d spent hours working on in the gym and his face were still enough to turn a few heads. So he’d taken what he could get.
