“Okay, okay.” I laughed, tossing the empty containers into the trash and carrying the wine into my bedroom. “Text me the second you know something.”
“It won’t be until the morning. Robert is working tonight, and I want to wait for him.”
“Hopefully, the Wi-Fi won’t be spotty on the plane because that’s most likely where I’ll be when you find out.”
“You won’t need a signal; you’ll hear me scream all the way in the sky.”
I smiled as I climbed into bed. “I feel bad for the world when you go into labor.”
“Very funny.” She chewed again, groaning as she swallowed. “Thanks for the candy, asshole.”
“Love you,” I said and hung up.
That was our friendship. Like a spicy tuna roll—simple with a kick.
TWO
JARED
I CARRIED my briefcase and wheeled a small carry-on through the lobby of my building, nodding at the doorman before I went outside.
My driver had parked the SUV along the curb and was standing next to the backseat, opening the door for me. “Good morning, Mr. Morgan.”
I gave him both handles, freeing my hands. “Morning, Tony.”
I climbed into the back, taking the New York Times off the other seat and placing it in my lap. It was crisp and unopened—the way I liked my paper every morning, how Tony always brought it.
“Your assistant sent your flight information,” he said as he got in the driver’s seat. “I just want to confirm you’re taking a commercial flight out of JFK?”
I glanced up from above the fold, catching his stare in the rearview.
He’d been driving me for a long time. Ten years at least.
If he hadn’t asked, he wouldn’t be doing his job.
“That’s correct,” I said.
I turned off the small reading light and looked out my window just as Tony was merging onto the road. Manhattan looked like a cave at this time of the day. Buildings blocked out the moonlight, and the sun hadn’t yet risen in the fall sky.
It was too early to be awake.
But if I wasn’t on my way to the airport, I probably wouldn’t be asleep anyway.
As we turned onto the Belt Parkway, my cell vibrated from the inside pocket of my suit. I reached for it, smiling as I held the phone to my ear.
“Marcus.” It was still the middle of the night on the West Coast, but I wasn’t surprised my longtime friend wasn’t sleeping.
“On your way to JFK?”
I checked the window to my left as Tony switched lanes. “That’s right.”
“Jared, I feel awful about this, but I’m not going to be able to pick you up at the airport. I’m going to send one of my guys. He’ll be right outside baggage claim. I’ll text you his car and plate—”
“Don’t worry; my assistant took care of all that.”
“I feel terrible,” he said. “I’m the whole reason you’re coming out here, and none of this would even be happening if it wasn’t for you.”
Over the years, I’d watched the different stages of Marcus’s career as he worked his way through the industry, gaining more knowledge and responsibility.
Now, he was the boss I had known he would be.
“Nonsense,” I said, meaning it. “Go get some rest. I need you alive for the next few days.”
He laughed. “See you soon, buddy.”
I hung up and grabbed the coffee Tony had gotten for me, taking a drink of it while he drove us deeper into Brooklyn. Most mornings, the bitter black brew would have been the perfect addition to the paper as I finished both in the backseat before I boarded my company’s private jet.
This morning wasn’t like most.
And what I wished were in this cup was a liquor so smoky and dominant, it would force me to relax, so I wouldn’t think about the real reason I was getting on this plane. The one that had nothing to do with seeing Marcus.
Nothing in this world was strong enough to take those thoughts away.
Not even whiskey.
“Is there anything I can get you, Mr. Morgan?”
I glanced at the darkened sky, my hand tightening around the hot cup. “You can turn on the radio.”
“The news channel you usually listen to?”