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“How did you handle it?”
“I let it change me,” I said.
“Did it help? Did it make it hurt any less?”
“I thought it did, but fooling yourself has an expiration date.” The bell above the door chimed, and I left Cole to think that over while I mixed two vodka tonics for the ladies who had entered.
“Do you plan on coming back?” I asked, returning and refilling his water.
“Would that be weird?”
“No weirder than it already has been.” I pushed the business card Johnny had wasted on me toward him.
“Dr. Mulligan?” He read with a furrowed brow. “A therapist? Where did you get this from?”
“I keep a stack under the bar for crybabies like you.” We chuckled, and I had to admit, it felt good. “Don’t be like me, Cole. Get yourself some help.”
Cole came in every day after that, eventually drinking less, and in due time our conversations moved past the irreparable condition of his life.
Things unfolded naturally between us, and soon, our interactions went beyond Josephine’s doors. Later on, our topics of discussion didn’t include much mention of his father at all.
The guilt I carried for the secrets I had to keep never went away, but I over-compensated by being more of a friend to him than I’d ever allow him to be to me. I told myself the scales were evenly balanced that way, no matter how much my inability to accept anything from him annoyed him.
Slowly, parts of my old self returned. And because Cole avoided Franky as much as possible due to his own guilt behind Selene’s passing, it made it easy for me to avoid him too.
There were occasions where Cole would try to drag me to some fancy Nexcom function, now that he’d begun working for the company, but those were simple enough to get out of.
I indulged his obsession with attending boring medical conferences, and he supported my need to be in the sun, although he complained the whole time we had to do something outdoorsy.
I still fucked a lot, way more than what was psychologically healthy. But a man had to do what he had to do to sleep, because no matter how much progress I made, there were some things about me that couldn’t be fixed. Some things that could only be fixed by Franky.
Cole’s friendship ended up being the life raft I needed. Franky had gotten it wrong. I didn’t need just one friend. I specifically needed Cole.
Chapter 25
Franklin
Four Years Later
Three raps sounded at my home office door, and I locked away the dog-eared photo of Leland I’d been staring at all morning before calling for whoever waited to come in.
Cole entered, his long-legged gait eating up the carpet as he strode for the seat across from my desk. The sunlight streaming through the windows glinted off his cufflinks.
He poured himself into the seat, resting an ankle over his knee. “Thought I’d stop by to make sure you weren’t having second thoughts,” he said, getting straight to the reason for his visit.
“It’s a little too late for that now,” I said. “The staff is already getting things in order for the celebration tonight, and the florists will be arriving any minute.” I’d be announcing the changing-of-the-guard tonight. As of tomorrow morning, Nexcom would officially belong to Cole.
He’d worked hard for it, and I could no longer pretend to stomach my role in the company. A role I hadn’t played well in the last year or so. Behind the scenes, Cole had been responsible for Nexcom’s boost of success with his passion and fresh ideas. At this stage, I was nothing more than a figurehead.
“Until the papers are signed, it’s never too late. And sometimes, not even then. You taught me that,” he said. Cole was a far cry from the man who’d lost everything less than a handful of years ago. He reminded me of myself, but due to Selene and Jasper’s influence, he was softer in areas that my losing Gloria and her family had hardened in me.
“No second thoughts,” I promised, and he nodded once, the corners of his mouth relaxing now that he knew this conversation wouldn’t end in a war.
Cole cleared his throat. “Full disclosure. I intend to move our headquarters to New York. It’ll be my first order of business—in tandem with the acquisition of several competing tech companies.”
I gripped the pen I held tightly as I digested the bombshell he just unloaded on me. “That’s not what’s best for my company. Not now. I won’t sanction the move.”
“Nexcom will no longer be your company,” he reminded me gently, and I eased into my seatback, loosening my grip on the pen.
