"I'm at the back table," Jack texted as I walked into the restaurant. It was one of those cheesy restaurants decorated with colorful pots and fake plants. The furniture in the dining room was mismatched and the glasses were plastic, but they served excellent food. It had been a month since the funeral, a month since Shay had walked out of my life.

Jack already had three empty beers in front of him, and it seemed he'd plowed through a basket of tortilla chips. "I thought I'd been stood up. I just asked for some more chips."

I sat down and motioned to the server for a beer. "I was on a phone conference with Maxine and Sheryl. They've got the prototype lab set up and ready to go. So keep those slick, ass hugging bike shorts on hand. We might be taking that ride down the Alta Dena trail soon."

"Sounds good to me. I need a break. Been working too hard these days. Speaking of Alta Dena—have you heard from her?"

It was strange having a her in a conversation, a woman who he didn't even need to call by name. Jack and I had been friends a long time, and there had never been a her. "No word."

"I should have guessed by those droopy jowls of yours."

The server brought my beer and the chips. I picked up the bottle and poured it in the glass. "You don't look much better," I noted.

"Yeah, Rylie and I ended it. We weren't right for each other. She likes order and predictability and responsibility. I'm none of those things."

I held up my beer. "Well, here's to being none of those things."

"Have you met with your mom yet?" Jack sat up and grabbed a chip.

"Not yet. We talked briefly while she was at the airport waiting for a flight to New York. She has a sister over there. We'll meet when she gets back."

The server walked over to take my order. "The taco plate and add avocado."

Jack leaned over to watch her walk away. "Nice legs. Are you looking forward to meeting with your mom?"

"Not sure. I don't think she'll be too impressed to realize that I'm just a younger version of my dad."

Jack coughed on some beer and grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth. "You're not anything like your dad." He tilted his head side to side. "Well, you are richer than most of the people on earth and you have the same name but that's where the similarity ends. Trust me, buddy, I wouldn't be sitting here eating stale chips with David Archer senior. We would have never been friends. And after I saw you with Shay—"

He stopped when I flashed him an angry glare. "You're right. Sore subject. Not another word. Although, that's too bad because it would be the best example to show you just how different you are from your old man."

"Really?" I looked at him in disbelief. "I wrote up a fucking contract to have her walking around my house teasing me with her seductive charms just so I could knock myself out of a sex addiction."

"It was a little creepy, I'll admit. But it worked. How many women have you slept with since you scared her off for good?"

"Again, how the hell did I talk myself into keeping you around?"

"Fine, I could have phrased that better. But you haven't answered my question."

"It's only been a month."

"Yep, and the old Nash would have slept with a dozen women in that time."

I leaned back with my beer. "Not in the mood. I'm still in mourning."

His loud laugh caught the attention of the two women next to us having dinner. Jack lifted his beer and winked at them. They smiled back. "My weeks out of practice haven't left me scarred. I've still got it," he bragged. "Which is more than I can say for you. You look scarred and then some."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he put up his hand.

"It's all right, Nash. I understand. I don't think I could have let a woman like Shay walk away and come out of it unscathed. And you two—" He sipped some beer. "Something just worked between you. She added that little magic I always kid you about, that magic you need to become a real boy. Like Pinocchio."

I rolled my eyes. "You are very repetitive, do you know that? And she's gone. I fucked up in many ways. I plan never to let myself become a real boy again. Hurts too much, the whole human emotion thing."

"If you say so, DNA." Jack scooped up a lump of salsa on a chip. "It's just kind of sad to see her working at that crummy strip joint again. She looked kind of right in your beach house."

I stared at him, trying to decide what the hell he was talking about. "What are you rambling about? Shay quit her job at Fantasm. She hated working there."

"Yes, but I'll bet it pays well. Especially with all those nice tips. She must have raked in five hundred bucks last night."

I sat forward so fast, the chair scraped the floor. "Shay was at Fantasm? Last night?"

"Sure was." He shoved the chip in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. "But since you prefer to stay a puppet."

I was out of the chair before he could finish.

"Avoid Rocky, he doesn't like you," Jack called as I raced out of the restaurant.