Dexter Senior looks older, but isn’t exactly a grandfatherly type and certainly hasn’t lost his edge. His eyes are sharp and calculating, and he’s still strong and solid. Apparently, he’s turned his health issues around.
He’s must be a true regular at the clubhouse because it takes him a good fifteen minutes to cross the dining room. Everyone wants a word or to shake his hand, and he preens under the attention.
“Hello.” He’s finally made his way over and I stand to shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” I reply.
“Ah, forgo the formalities. You can call me Dexter.”
“Will do.”
Dexter Senior is used to a captive audience, and I’m happy to give him one. My mind has wandered back to Mia now that it’s been confirmed this is a friendly meeting instead of a hostile one. Maybe there aren’t teams, and we’re all just working together to close a good deal.
He tells us about his life in Palm Beach with Myrna, and I immediately wonder just how much younger she is than him. He tells me everything except why he wanted me here to begin with, and when I try to redirect the conversation, he gives me a sly smile.
“I admire the empire you’ve built for yourself, and Seneca is a good buy. Isn’t that enough?” he asks.
I nod realizing that Dex was right and a pat answer is all I’m going to get. “It’s enough for me. And I still have an endless supply of ideas to make the company even stronger while I’m transitioning it over to Dex.”
“Does your mind ever stop?” Dex asks.
I shrug. “I’m happiest when I’m working.”
Dex shares a look with his dad, and it’s heavier with more meaning than I’m able to analyze. Growing up, my dad was home from his job as a city plumber by six every night like clockwork. We had dinner as a family, and we weren’t allowed to mentally check out.
No, dinner with the McCormicks meant everyone shared how their day went – and no canned answers of “fine” would be acceptable to the lovingly tough matriarch.
There hasn’t been a day in my life when I’ve had to wonder if my parents love me, are proud of me, or truly care about me. I know without question because they not only tell me, but they show me.
Somehow my wiring got crossed, and I couldn’t give a shit about building the same family unit I had. It would only slow me down and I meant what I said – working and solving problems that translate into multi-million dollar deals is when I’m happiest. It’s an adrenaline rush that I haven’t been able to find anywhere else, and I’ve never felt the need to slow down.
Until Mia.
Jesus.
I don’t know her well enough to be as hung up on her as I am, but she’s slowly changing my perspective on relationships. If I let my guard down, especially late at night when I’m feeling – no, not lonely, I refuse to believe that I’m capable of such weakness –melancholy, I imagine what it would be like to head to a warm bed with her waiting in it.
Maybe she’d be doing work of her own, or maybe she’d be reading a book. Since she’s my girl, more than likely she’d be naked and ready for me to make her scream. Getting inside that addictive pussy every night and hearing more of those sweet confessions about how she’s falling for me – and the real me, not just the money – would be…
“Wouldn’t you say that’s true, Dean?”
“Absolutely,” I assert, even though I have no clue what the actual fuck Dex is talking about. Whatever it is, I’m sure he’s right about it and I’m willing to risk it.
“Tell me how you became the man behind all these companies,” Dexter Senior encourages. “And not the dossier version. I’ve read that one, and I’m looking for the behind-the-scenes, uncut edition.”
And so over delicious steak and aged whiskey with the waves crashing in the background, I do. I tell them more personal details than I’ve ever told business associates because this feels – different.
I don’t know exactly how or why, but I’m comfortable in their presence. It’s safe to be friendly because we’re mutually invested in the success of this deal so that we all keep making money.
And that symbiotic energy is a good feeling.
It’s after 2 in the morning before I return to the hotel. I’m loose after a night of camaraderie and laughter, but no closer to understanding why I’m here. But tonight it doesn’t matter. It’s where I’m supposed to be.
My phone buzzes as soon as I get to bed and I smile, hoping it’s Mia.
Dex: Are you calling her now?
Dean: Fuck off.