“New York. Where else can you live without a car? And he owns a bar there. But he’s a former SEAL and former consultant for us.”
“Will I be able to help him?”
“As soon as you pass the psych eval, maybe. You’ll have to wait for him anyway, wherever he goes and whatever he does. Sometimes it might just be to drive him to the office, other times maybe something more exciting.”
Mark is dangling a carrot in front of me, and I can’t resist. He knows it. I know it. And I let him win.
“Okay… When does this start?” I mumble still reluctantly for the sport of it. I won’t show Mark how excited I am to finally be considered for a job at Cole Security Forces for something other than answering the phone. Not an office job but something where I still have my freedom and make more money to pursue my hobbies. That’s a good deal.
“Come tomorrow first thing in the morning, and we’ll fill in some papers and speak with the psychologist. If he clears you, you can start the next day. I’m going to get Oliver settled and catch up with him on his first day. Haven’t seen him in five years.”
“Oh, Mark is missing his friend… That’s cute, Dixon.”
“Shut up, Murdock, or I’ll fire you even before you’re hired.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Better. I’ll see you tomorrow, Tessa.”
“Mark?”
“Yes?”
“Thank Ashton for talking to you, and thank you for the opportunity.”
“No problem, Murdock. Whatever others think, you’re family, and we always take care of family.”
Hearing Mark say that almost brings tears into my eyes. Quickly, I ward off my tears and cough not to have my voice crack when I say goodbye.
Once home, I try to find any information about the guy Mark wants me to drive around.
More out of boredom than curiosity.
Or maybe I’m a little curious.
We all know each other pretty well around here, but I’ve never heard of someone losing his fiancée to a car accident. Checking the local newspaper, I find a small article—not much more than ten lines—on a car accident on the interstate, but no names were revealed.
I try my luck with the bar in New York.
I don’t know much.
Oliver. NYC bar owner. Former SEAL.
Nothing. Google sucks sometimes.
After three pages of searches not giving me what I’m looking for, I close the window and go back to videos of cars racing.
But I don’t know why the guy doesn’t leave my mind.
Maybe it’s the dead fiancé we have in common or the fact he doesn’t drive after a car accident, but something draws me to him. In a way, I can’t wait to meet him.
I feel something is in the air.
Not like hope, more like an inevitable instance born to happen, and excitement I feel from head to toes, as if he could give me the last shot of adrenaline I need to subsist.
And that hasn’t happened in a very long time.
Chapter Three
OLIVER
As usual, I don’t acknowledge the fact that I’m packing for the third time and verifying, once again, that I have everything I need for my upcoming trip.
I pretend I’m not doing it.
The same way I pretend I’m not locking the door a few times every time I need to or checking the stoves are off a half-dozen times after I use it.
I don’t derive any sense of pleasure from performing these behaviors when I feel I don’t have any control in my life, so I try to ignore them.
Everyone checks on things to find peace when their anxiety is high. I’m just another statistic, and in such short notice, it’s normal I validate that my suitcase has all I need. Better safe than sorry. I can’t harm anyone else I love.
Being prepared is the only way to avoid death.
No one else can die on my watch.
If death would come knocking on my door tomorrow, I’ll be better equipped to fight it than last time.
I won’t let it win.
I’ll have everything ready and checked to survive, for my loved ones to survive. I close my eyes to chase the dark thoughts away. Thinking about people dying is not a way to live. I promised myself I’d stop once Aito was born. And I did. Mostly. I sigh and walk to the kitchen to go over the list I put up on the fridge.
Give Peter all the access codes to the bar and go over the list of what has to be done. Check.
He’s my main guy on the floor and has helped a lot since Aito’s birth. He should be able to manage the bar without me around. I cross this point off the list, but underneath I write to call him daily to check on things.
Turn off the water and all necessities and unplug any electronics. Check.
Several times. No issue there.
Pack. Check.
Three times. Maybe a fourth one if Jackson is late. I’ve packed light as if I was going on a mission. I know I can buy anything I need there. But I can’t replace the few things I never leave behind. An old picture of Elaine I never look at. The keychain Anna got me when I became a dad, but I never put it on my set of keys in case I lose them. The watch Naomi got me as a token of appreciation for giving her a son. Those three things are secure in my jacket, close to my heart.
I continue the perusal of my checklist.
Give Naomi everything she would need for Aito. Check.
Even if we have two or sometimes more of everything. I made sure he had his favorite stuffy and pajamas. He always sleeps through the night when he wears this one, it has little cars on it. I bought them at The Gap, I believe. I had to buy two. I go into his bedroom to be sure I haven’t forgotten the damned pajamas in his drawer. Never mind, I dropped
