“You should have heard him. He thought he could scare me.”
“The Andrades are very close with Dominic Corisi.”
“Dominic is barely in the game anymore. He went the way of Buffet and retired. Plus, this isn’t personal. It’s business.”
“It sounds personal, otherwise you’d walk away.”
Shit, Clay knew him too well. “No one threatens me and wins.”
“There has to be more to this. Who cares what he said?”
Dax downed his own shot. He didn’t care about what Max thought. This was about how the threat made Dax feel. He’d vowed that no one would ever push him down or threaten him again. He couldn’t explain it to Clay without sharing things he’d spent a lifetime keeping to himself.
Clay continued to dole out advice. “Move on. There’s no profit in this, but there could be a whole lot of professional suicide involved.”
“You sound like you’re genuinely worried for me. Since when are you scared of a little confrontation?”
“I’m not afraid of snakes, but I’d have a healthy respect for one I see coiling back to bite my ankle.”
“They won’t be coming for you, so don’t worry. I appreciate your help with the resort, but this is my area of expertise. Takeovers are never pretty.”
Clay shook his head slowly. “I want to believe you, but I’ve seen you head down this road before, and it doesn’t end well.”
Dax flexed his shoulders in memory of the fight Clay was referring to. A decade had passed since then, but Clay brought it up from time to time as if it were a cautionary tale Dax could learn from. He didn’t understand that some urges couldn’t be reasoned away; they could only be contained. “That was my fight, too. Your mistake was staying.”
“My mistake was thinking it was only three guys. No, you pissed off half the bar.”
“I didn’t like the way they were talking to the waitress.”
“I didn’t say you were wrong to stand up for her, you just don’t know when to cut and run.”
“We gave as good as we got that night.”
“But at what cost? Your face took a pounding, and I still have scars from that bottle-wielding biker.”
Dax smiled without humor. “But we won.”
Clay sighed. “Barely. Is that really the kind of fight you’re looking for again, but with your career? I’ve got your back, but you know you could end this now.”
Dax rubbed his hands over his face. Clay was a good friend, and he was making sense. Dax wanted to say he’d walk away from Poly-Shyn. He didn’t, though. He was wrestling with an old demon, one he normally kept in check, and this time it was winning. “I’ll think about it.”
Clay clasped his fingers on the arms of his chair. “So, have you been up to anything else I should know about?”
Dax looked back at his desk then at Clay. He strode over, opened a drawer, pulled out the cologne, then placed it on the table beside Clay. “Kenzi Barrington sent me this. You have sisters. What does it mean?”
Clay waved a hand in the air. “No. No. No. You are not going to battle with the Barringtons and date their little sister at the same time. If you’re looking to end up on the bottom of the Charles River, you are choosing the fastest way to get yourself there.”
“I’m not dating her. I sent her some music to make her feel better, and this is what she sent back. What does it mean?”
Clay stood and poured himself a second shot. “It means you’ve fucking lost your mind. You need to stay away from her.”
“I have.”
Clay downed the shot. “No, this is not staying away. This is the opposite of staying away. This is the romantic shit that is going to bring you real trouble. You want my advice?”
Dax picked up the cologne bottle and tossed it back into a drawer of his desk. Normally Dax did. Clay was the one person who had consistently looked out for Dax’s best interests. That carried weight in most situations, but not in this one. When Dax asked himself why, he realized it was for no other reason than he didn’t want Clay to be right. Not this time. “No.”
“Walk away from all of it. Her. The takeover. Everything.”
“Or?”
“Take up a religion. Any fucking religion, because you’re going to need more help than I can bring.”
“Isn’t your motto ‘It doesn’t matter as long as it doesn’t bore me’?”
“Ten years ago it was. I’d like to think I’ve evolved beyond that.”
“And done what?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Exactly.”
Chapter Four
Kenzi was wrapping a towel around her hair when her cell phone rang. Still damp from the shower, she walked into her bedroom to get it. She was taking calls from her family again so she no longer had to avoid her phone.
It wasn’t a number she recognized, but she answered anyway. “Hello?”
“Kenzi, it’s Dax Marshall.”
Kenzi sank onto the edge of her bed and let out a shaky breath. “Hi.” That’s me, a brilliant conversationalist. “Did you get my gift?”
“I did.”
Kenzi cleared her throat. “Was it the right brand?”
“It was.”
He didn’t say anything else, and Kenzi’s hands went cold with nerves. What if he thought it wasn’t an appropriate gift? Had his gift been one sent out of pity and her response too personal? Kenzi’s stomach twisted and her mouth went dry.
She wanted to extricate herself from the conversation but they weren’t actually talking, which made it that much more awkward. The longer the silence continued the less Kenzi knew what to say. She held her breath and waited.
“I’ll be in Boston tomorrow,” he said gruffly.
“That’s great. The weather is really warming up here.” Shut up, Kenzi. He didn’t call you for a weather forecast. God, it’s a good thing I didn’t get the reality show if this is the best I can do.
“Come to dinner with me.”
“Dinner?” Kenzi repeated. She didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to start to hope if this wasn’t what she thought it was. “Like a date?”
When he didn’t answer, Kenzi groaned and flopped back on the bed, covering her face with one arm. He probably wanted to see her in person to let her down gently. Kenzi spent the next unbearably long moment wondering how to turn back the clock and unask her question.
“Yes. I want to see you again.” The admission sounded like it was wrung out of him.
If Kenzi hadn’t already been lying down, she would have fallen to the floor. She gasped at the pleasure his words sent rushing through her. “I didn’t think our first meeting had left you with a very good impression of me.”
“I’ll pick you up at six. Wear something I’ll spend all night thinking about tearing off you.” He hung up without waiting for her response.
Holy shit.
Kenzi sat straight up and called Lexi. When she needed cheering up, Willa always knew what to say. This time, however, she needed someone who knew how to handle a man like Dax.
Lexi crowed with delight when Kenzi told her why she’d called. “It’s Kenzi,” she exclaimed, “and she wants advice about a man.”
“Put her on speakerphone,” Willa demanded in the background.
“She called me, so obviously she’s found herself a real man and not one of those pretty boys the two of you normally discuss.”
