I gulp the steaming coffee, not even wincing when it practically burns a hole in my throat on the way down. It’s bitter as hell, but I still order it every time I walk into this diner. The place holds memories of happier times, and I need those reminders right now. My fingers hover over the keyboard of my phone before typing a response. I know what the guys think. I’m overcompensating. I’m desperate. I’m out for revenge. I’m taking too many risks. I’m chasing something I’ll never catch.

Story of my goddamned life.

I can’t blame them. My never-ending quest to prove that I’m better than my father, that I’m more of a man than he was because I never accepted defeat, because I never sat on the sidelines and watched things fall apart the way he did. No, I took action, tried to change my circumstances, and ended up alienating the people most important to me in the process. Epic fails with my career and my relationships, all in the name of trying to be stronger, to do more, and to have it all. But I fucked up. I got sloppy and put too much blind faith in people who didn’t deserve it. Now, I have a new target. I’ve only missed once. It won’t happen again.

I just have to convince the rest of the guys that I know what the fuck I’m doing. Rand and Remo weren’t hard to convince, but Kensington is a different story. The stress knot at the base of my neck roars when I twist my head left and right. Sleep has been hard to come by for the past few years, and tossing and turning while plotting is how I spend my nights. Old habits die hard.

Meet me at the office. Three o’clock.

I show no sign of contention via text. No need, since there will be exactly zero confusion come three o’clock. The strategy just changed. Again.

“Are you ready to order yet?”

A raspy voice jolts me from my thoughts.

“Not quite, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Okay then.” The perky blonde waitress flashes a wide smile that basically tells me she’s one of the specials of the day, but I’m far from being in the mood. “I’ll be back.”

We’re closing in on Trey Conlon. The groundwork is laid, surveillance is now in place thanks to Ollie, and the bastard is going down. I rub the back of my neck. I’d never doubted myself. And I’d never gone into a situation where I didn’t think I could come out unscathed.

That was before.

Now I have doubts, and my ass has been singed one too many times.

But I can’t let on. There’s too much at stake. I have to make my team believe I have everything handled before we make the next move. And then I need to take a very big fucking hammer to our plans and crush every last detail to smithereens, making sure I escape without a trace.

Except I’m not going to be the savior this time. I was never meant to play that role. I tried and failed miserably, too many times to count. A fact my ex-wife never lets me forget.

Speaking of the devil herself…

A cloud of heavy perfume permeates the air, and I look up to find Kate a few feet away. High heels click on the shiny checkerboard tile floor as she walks toward the booth nestled in the back corner of the restaurant. She slows on the approach, a tight smile lifting her shiny pink lips. “Good morning, Jeff.”

I stand and lean forward, brushing my lips against her cheek. “How’ve you been?”

Her back is stiff when my hands grip her shoulders. She pulls back and slides around me into the booth. “No need to get cozy. Let’s just get this over with fast. I have an appointment.”

I sigh. I’m on everyone’s shit list these days, and fuck if I don’t deserve it. I let them all down and left them to pick up the pieces.

Kate’s eyes narrow, and I can tell she’s ready to unleash five years’ worth of shit on me. For a moment, I soften, in spite of the evil glare flashing in her eyes.

I told her I’d never become my father, that I’d never let our family fall apart and leave them on their own.

I lied.

It wasn’t my goal. I had much more honorable intentions for a career path with the FBI. It was my goal to put away assholes like the crooks who stole my dad’s livelihood, but after years of undercover work, someone at the Bureau sold me out. They got years of my life, time I’d given up with my family, and when they needed a fall guy, I was it. I’d been buried so deep and for so long, nobody had my back. I was accused of being a double-agent…for being too effective at my job, which then became no job. Screw me once, shame on you. I didn’t plan on ever uttering the next words of that cliché. So much for planning.

I sure as hell know I can’t correct all the wrongs in my past, but I can make things right with the people that matter most, namely my son, Damon.

“Do you have any idea how terrible it feels to be disregarded by your own father?” Kate sits back against the booth and folds her arms. “Oh right, you do. And all the bullshit you spewed about never wanting your own kid to feel that kind of rejection, especially after what he’s been through—“

“Kate, I just got back. I was planning to reach out to him. You know he’s better off without me around, especially after all that shit went down. I love him more than anything, and I’m just trying to protect him.” Truer words were never spoken, but my actions speak volumes to the contrary.

“Like you were trying to protect us both for those years when you were stealing God only knows what from people who castrate first, then ask questions? Did you give a shit about what you left behind while you were rotting in that cell for the past five years? Did you even care about what Damon and I went through afterward, being associated with the FBI agent who turned his back on the law and joined the dark side? That we needed to leave our family home and change our names to escape the scrutiny of the press?”

I let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry for putting you both through that.“

“And for lying about everything. Let’s not forget that.”

“I did what I had to do to take care of you both.”

“You could have done something else! Anything else! Worked the counter at McDonald’s, dammit!”

“I tried my best, Kate. We needed the money.”

“Bullshit! We were okay! You did it because you needed to prove yourself to everyone. But that wasn’t the way things turned out. You screwed up! When you were sent away, they seized everything! I know you had a rough pill to swallow when the Bureau turned its back on you, but everything you did afterward only proved their accusations were true. You ruined yourself, Jeff. You ruined us.”

My back stiffens. I’d signed her divorce papers. I didn’t blame her at all. But Damon, he had to go through so much, and I wasn’t there for him. I’d failed him so many times. I’ll never forgive myself for missing out on so much of his life, and I need the chance to make things right. I’ve already lost so much time.

But my problem remains. I can’t ever let go of the past. Needing to put away all of the fucking criminals who scammed companies and drained the bank accounts of innocent employees like my dad, needing to prove my innocence to the FBI, needing to get revenge on the bastard who took so much away from me…those toxic needs have plagued me for years.

“We’ve finally moved on with our lives, without you. I don’t really care what you do anymore, but Damon is getting married, and for some reason, he actually wants you to be involved.” She runs a hand through her long, auburn waves, nostrils flaring. “I don’t care to be dragged back into your riptide, but Damon feels differently, so don’t fuck this up again. Be there for him, the way you’d wished your own father was there for you. Don’t abandon him because you’re chasing demons that’ll never let themselves be caught.”

I tap my fingers on the Formica tabletop. “I did what I had to do to protect him. And you, too, in case you were wondering. Keeping my distance is best for everyone.”

She lets out a deep sigh and pulls out an envelope, dropping it on the table. “I know you always feel you have something to prove, but I’m begging you to leave the past exactly where it is and focus on making the most of the time you have with your son. Give him back the father he needs and deserves.”

With her normal dramatic flair, she slides out of the booth, twists on her spiky heel, and stalks out of the diner. I can’t even be pissed. She’s a hundred percent right. I’ve made choices, and as bad as some of them have been, I need to live with the consequences.

The waitress slinks back toward me with what I guess is supposed to be a seductive smile plastered across her face. “Too bad your girlfriend had to leave so soon.”

“Not my girlfriend.” I slide the menus across the table and pull out a twenty.

She twists a loose curl around her finger, eyeing me up and down without any degree of shame. “Hmm. I guess that’s a lucky break for someone else, huh?”

I toss the money on top of the menus, grab the envelope, and stand, almost two full heads taller than her. “I don’t believe in luck. Nothing ever comes that easy.”

* * *

“Ollie, I need to know what the hell is going on,” I hiss, grabbing my second cup of iced Youthberry tea from my desk. I’m convinced my skin is going to turn a disturbing shade of pinkish purple if I keep guzzling this crap, but stopping in there a few times a day centers me. Maybe it’s the soothing music, or the aromatic scent of the teas. The whole experience is calming, at least temporarily.

But it never fails. Once I leave that zen storefront, I always seem to get bitch-slapped with some reality, where calm is a non-existent commodity.

“What do you mean? Jeff’s got nothing right now. That thumb drive has a mess of data on it that won’t amount to shit. Tech has never been his strong suit, which is why I guess he came looking for me.” He adjusts his glasses and hands me a pile of paper. “Hey, where were you earlier?”

“I was at a dress fitting with my sister, after meeting with Scarlet, who is a fucking train wreck right now. Has anything come up in your searches? Did you figure out what your pal Jeff is after, and why it hasn’t come up on our radar?”

“Nothing yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as I find something.”

I rub my temples, trying to get my chi to settle the fuck down. “This whole thing doesn’t make sense. Scarlet said it was just her and Conlon, nobody else. Those pictures put her in front of a group, and on top of some guy’s face. You’d think Conlon would be keeping a low profile right now.”

“Ari,” Ollie sighs. “Are you really going to believe what Scarlet tells you? The girl has her head up her ass. Think about how many times you’ve already had to bail her out since she signed on as your client. She has a lot to lose by telling the truth to anyone, even her publicist. This is Hollywood. America is pretty damned unforgiving, and the country’s favorite sweetheart will morph into the evil incarnate with one negative headline. Scarlet doesn’t know much, but she damn well knows that.”

“You think she’s lying?”

“I think she knows she fucked up, and she’s trying to make sure nobody else finds out about her little indiscretion.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Just sit back and wait for this guy to come back with more dirt on her skanky ass? He’s got an angle, Ollie, and it’s very quickly getting in the way of our plans. I need this taken care of, and quickly.” The vein in my forehead is throbbing from overwork. Full-blown panic mode has set in, and I’m all out of Xanax. Here in L.A., you never know when a client might need one, and by the off chance they don’t have their own, we always have some on standby. Except today.

“I’m sure Scarlet will probably lay low for a while. I don’t think she’ll need too much babysitting; although, we can definitely arrange that. And as for this investigation…” He pauses, lips lifting into a knowing smile. “You know as well as I do that it’s all smoke and mirrors.”

“Yes, but what’s he after? What does he know? He thinks you’re on his side. Make him believe that until we figure everything out.”

“You’re borderline hysterical, Ari. Trust me, the security feeds confirm Scarlet was there, but nothing out of the ordinary was going on, at least by L.A. standards. They’re using her to bait you because they need me. And I’ve taken care of Jeff. He thinks he’s got me, and I’ll figure out what he’s up to soon enough.”

I bite my lower lip and grab my cup. “So you really think this is a whole lot of nothing?”

“Well, for Scarlet, it’s a little bit of something, but that part is easily controlled.”

“And those pictures?” A shudder moves through me as I recall the images. Christ, they were disgusting.

“Did you even see her face?” Ollie shakes his head. “You can’t even be sure that’s her. Without facial confirmation, she can’t be thrown under the bus.”

“But her hair, her profile…I can see it’s her, and with whatever facial recognition bullshit tools are out there, I’m sure they can finger her.” I roll my eyes. “No pun intended.”

“You could tell, but you’re not the vast majority. Trust me, those pictures won’t surface because they’re bullshit. He used them to get to me.” Ollie stands, tall and lean, but not what you’d call muscular, and walks toward me, his dark brown hair flopping over his eye. I can see the intensity in his gaze. After working together so closely and for so long, it’s as clear as day to me. But I don’t feel anything for him except friendship, and sometimes I think he wants to forget that part.

“She didn’t deny being there…and doing that…any distractions are going to compromise our whole plan…” My voice trails off as he approaches.

He stops in front of me, his height forcing me to look upward. “I promised you I’d take care of it.” His breath tickles my cheek. Is it horrible, making him jump every time I say so, because he hopes that my feelings will change?

I break away from his hungry gaze, staring at everything in my office to keep my eyes averted. The truth is, I care about Ollie a lot. He’s been with me since the beginning, but our relationship is strictly professional.

“Ari…” he breathes. “Look at me. And stop biting your lip.”

I return my focus to him, my heart thrumming. I know what’s coming, but this is the last thing I need to deal with right now. I feel beads of perspiration pop up along the back of my neck under the heat of his stare. His fingertips graze my arms, arousing absolutely zero sensation, but I recoil like they’re hot pokers searing my skin.

“Ollie, don’t.”

“Shit,” he mutters. His breath hitches, and he pulls his hand away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Our working relationship means everything to me. You’re one of my best friends, but I just can’t give you anything more.”

He clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Yeah, of course. I guess I just got caught up.”

“Ollie, please, too many people are counting on us to finally get this done. I can’t do it without you. Please tell me you understand.” I squeeze his hands.

The look of dejection on his face is clear as a freshly washed window. “It won’t.” He forces a laugh. “Maybe it’s the lack of sleep making me flake out. You’re right. There’s too much at stake.”

I reach for his arm as he turns away. “Hey, I’m so grateful to have you in my life. You’re an amazing guy, and we make a great team.”

He nods. “Yeah, we do. And I get it. We’re cool. Let’s just forget this happened, okay?”

“Well, I’m going to forget some of it. The other part about the photos being bullshit, that part I kind of need to hold onto, if that’s okay.” I wink at him. “Don’t yank away the single shred of sanity I have left.”

“Deal.” He turns to walk out of the office and hesitates when he reaches the door. “Oh, hey, have fun at the party this weekend. Don’t worry about any of this. I’ve got it.”

Fuck.

Eva and Damon are holding all of the pre-wedding festivities in the two weeks leading up to the wedding. Something about Damon’s dad being unavailable until right about now. I haven’t heard much about him, but I guess he’s reappeared on the scene from where the hell ever.

And this weekend is their Jack and Jill wedding shower cocktail party. It’s my mother’s brilliant plan to gather everyone together for a pre-wedding celebration. Of course, I’m sure that’s because she just recovered from her latest round of plastic surgery and wants to flaunt her upgrades in front of my father and his current flavor of the month.

It’s yet another opportunity for my parents to express their deepest concerns for my failure to commit. How ironic that they’re reasons one and two for my stunted emotional growth. And they have no idea how deep the scars actually run.