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Damon stares at me. “You and Iarevery different, Ava. I am always trying to achieve perfection.”
I shake my head. “Honestly, it doesn’t exist.”
“Every day I wake up,” Damon says, “I look to do the best in my business. I am always looking to be the best in what I do. Everysingleday. That’s what has made me get to where I am today.”
I look at the man. I can see the conviction in him. He’s clearly not lying, and he’s certainly no longer joking around. He is a man who would search to the ends of the earth for perfection.
“Maybe life is about more than being the best,” I reply.
Damon blinks at that. A momentary flicker of confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe life is about relationships and connections,” I say. “Maybe it’s about doing the best for your family. Givingyour all to the people you love. There may not be a perfection in that, but there is something...greater.”
Damon scoffs. “Sounds like some trash you’d find on a fortune cookie.”
I shrug. “It’s a shame you don’t believe me.”
“Relationships and connections are for people who don’t have ambition,” Damon replies.
“You seriously don’t think that, do you?” I ask him.
“Why waste your time on something you can’t perfect?”
“Yeah,” I reply slowly. “We aresovery different.”
The man smiles. “Let’s go outside,” he says. “Let’s enjoy the view before we fight.”
And he leads me through the doors and onto his balcony.
He is right about the view. We can look out over all of Crystal River from here. The stars twinkle in the night sky above us. I can see the lights of the university – the biggest building by far in the small town – and the dorms where I used to live with Olivia.
As I stand here on Damon’s balcony, I feel something nudge my leg from behind. It’s Damon’s dog showing me some love. I give him a good scratch behind the ears.
“I love this town,” I say.
“I do too,” Damon replies, his voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s something we can agree on,” I say.
“Yep. It certainly is.”
We take a seat at the balcony table, and I quickly devour the rest of the omelet.
“So, tell me about yourself,” I say to the man sitting opposite me.
“You want to figure me out?” he asks me, his eyes dark. “Suss out my inner secrets?”
“Isimply want to find out more about you,” I explain. “Your...history.”
“I don’t like talking about it,” Damon replies.
He’s curt and blunt. Very characteristic of the man.
“Oh. Okay.”
“You might think of me as some petty criminal, Ava,” Damon continues. “But I have also built a billion-dollar company. I am more than my reputation.”
“Ah. The wholeperfectionthing you were talking about.”
