“On the record, Jerry accepted a position at Braden Investment Group.”
“Off the record?” Sandra gives me a pointed look I don’t particularly like, considering she’s my secretary.
“Off the record is nothing you need to worry about.”
“You’ve told me not to worry before. I think it’s time you started letting me in on some of this stuff. I can keep an eye on the job boards and keep you posted on the scuttlebutt.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s talking about social media gossip. The stuff you think is so unimportant.” Marley’s moved to lying on his back on the sofa, sorting through résumés. “I think I found another guy.”
Sandra’s still waiting, and I glance up at her. “Off the record, Jerry tried to extort money from us. He objected to Raquel being promoted over him, and when I wouldn’t change my mind, he threatened me then quit.”
“Oh my God!” Sandra gasps.
Marley only mutters, “Told you I hated that guy.”
“Yeah.” I study the stack of papers in front of me. Remembering how that all went down. Remembering the shattered look in Rocky’s eyes.
I want a drink. Or a fucking cigarette.
Slipping my hand into the pocket of my blazer, I pop another white square out of the blister packet and put it in my mouth.
Sandra’s eyebrow cocks. “In all the years we’ve worked together I have never seen you chew gum.”
“Few things are less professional. It’s that nicotine shit.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Really… Is it working?”
“No.” I toss the résumés aside. “See what you can find out about this toxic office whatever—”
“Toxic work environment,” she supplies.
“See if you can find out what that’s about and let me know. Also, see if this Ryan Daniels can come in for an interview tomorrow.” My eyes go to Marley. “Can you drink? I need a whiskey.”
“I’m on a cleanse, but I’ll be happy to sit beside you while you destroy your liver.” That’s just perfect. Standing, I grab my phone. “Whatever—just don’t join a cult.”
“I have been looking into Buddhism…”
Waving my hand, I nod. “Buddhism is fine. No cults.”
Friday night at AJ’s gets more crowded as the evening wears on. A live band plays a mix of country covers and what I assume are originals. We are in Music City, after all. Marley and I are sitting at a high top table on the patio overlooking the skyline.
“So Jerry tried to extort us.” He’s sip
ping an O’Doul’s Amber. “Sounds like there’s more to the story. What did you not tell Sandra?”
I’m on my third whiskey, so it’s less painful to talk about it. “He dragged up that business with Renée. Really stuck it to me… right in front of Rocky.”
“Rocky?”
“Raquel, sorry.” My eyes are fixed on my glass, but I’m seeing her eyes fill with tears. The things she said… Broken and cruel. Two whiskeys, and it still hurts.
“Rocky?”
“It’s a family nickname.” She used to wrestle with her dad… I’ve got to stop this now.
He’s strangely quiet, and I glance up at him.