Page 38 of Fool’s Gold

“Valid. Notice how the troopers didn’t press charges. Clearly, they understood. My point stands though. You lurked around that hospital for three days,for free, when you didn’t have to. Either you sustained a concussion in that car wreck and we need to get you evaluated, or you got attached.”

Jack gripped the inside of his pockets. Why were his hands sweaty? Could Levi tell? And why did his feet suddenly feel like lead. “It won’t happen again.”

“It’s normal and natural, Jack.”

“I don’t like it.”

Levi held his gaze for a long time. “That’s not what the grandmother said. And from what Irvine and Kingston said, her faculties are all intact.”

“You mean Norah? When did you talk to Norah?” Jack couldn’t help but feel like this whole situation had gotten away from him. He was supposed to be better than that.

“Last night. She somehow got my number—I suspect Spencer Wilde—and gave me a stern talking to. She seems to think I’m mistreating you or something, that I’m not ‘allowing’ you to have a life outside of work. Is that the case?”

“What? No!” Jack rubbed at his face. “I never said anything like that. Not to her, not to anyone else. I’m just not the settling-down type.”

“That’s what I told her. I phrased it a little differently, of course. She just looked at me like I’d farted at a funeral and said, ‘Well clearly you didn’t see how he was looking at my boy Matthew. There’s no reason he can’t do his job and have a life of his own.’ If that’s something you want, Jack, you can have it. No one’s stopping you. Hell, you wouldn’t even be the only operative based in Atlanta.”

Jack’s insides were doing something weird. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but it couldn’t be good. He needed to get out of that office before it got ugly. “Sir, I’m afraid it’s all moot. Norah didn’t consult her grandson on the subject. We agreed to end it with the contract and neither suggested any changes to the agreement. We’re both better off as we are. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather work.”

Levi nodded once. “All right. Well, I’ll let you know when the next contract comes through. Should only be a couple of days. Research materials should be in your inbox within the hour.”

Jack thanked him and headed out as quickly as he could. It was close enough to the truth, and it was better this way. Cleaner.

Jack was all about clean.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

They letMatt out of the hospital a week after Jack left. He hated that this was how he counted time now. He had Before Jack, and After Jack, and a few short weeks in between. He couldn’t even really call them pleasant because he and Jack hadn’t hit it off at first, and oh yeah, someone had been trying to kill him.

He had to call a car service to come and pick him up because he didn’t have anyone to get him. Any friends he’d still had in Atlanta had ghosted him when the whole Besse thing hit, not that he blamed them. Norah couldn’t exactly hop in the car and drive, and the farther away from him she was, the better. Morales said the danger was past now, but Matt didn’t buy it. Besse hadn’t exactly publicized his departure, and while the rogue board members had been purged, they hadn’t been the only ones who wanted him dead.

The others, the families of the dead and hurt, had much better reason to want him harmed.

The nurses exchanged glances as he wheeled himself to the door and navigated to the car on his crutches, but they didn’t say anything. They knew more than the average person, but he was still connected to Besse. He was still a pariah.

Norah was still staying with Spencer Wilde and his grandmother, so Matt had the apartment to himself. If he wanted to, he could go down to any of the bars in downtown Atlanta and pick someone up. His face was somewhat recognizable, but he didn’t have to go in a suit and tie. He had casual clothing. He just didn’t have the opportunity to wear it very often.

He had to laugh at himself. He wasn’t going downtown. He hadn’t done that often before Jack; he wasn’t going to do it now. Somehow, the thought of a random hookup seemed exceptionally repulsive now, after everything, even though it had been a reasonable if rare solution before.

Because of course a random hookup was a possibility with a cast on his leg, scabby cuts on his face and arms, and stitches on his abdomen.

He allowed himself to wallow in self-pity for two days. Then he got up, shaved, and started putting his resume back together.

His job hunt wasn’t going to be easy. What he needed were connections, especially at this stage of the game. The reason he’d fought so hard for that golden parachute—doubled by the remaining board members, which he supposed was technically decent of them—was that after being associated with a place like Besse connections would be hard to find. Now that he’d been fired amid a scandal, they’d be even harder.

The first recruiter he spoke with was honest about it, at least. She tried to be gentle. “I understand it’s not your fault. And I’ll work hard to get you in the door. I have to be honest though. At your level, people need to see results. It’s great that you implemented those programs, but they’re not going to get you jobs unless you can show that they’re working. That’s going to take time, and of course that presumes that the company keeps those systems in place. Maybe you should consider taking some time to yourself, spend some time with your family. Write a book, if it doesn’t violate your NDAs. That would show you were doing something with your time, but give your initiatives time to work.”

Matt smiled and bullshitted his way through the rest of the discussion, but his heart sank. Sure, everyone’s ambition was to retire by forty. Not necessarily before thirty-five. What the hell was he supposed to do with himself?

He’d never been one to be idle, so he started by signing up on some freelance accounting sites. It wasn’t about the money. He’d do clerical work if it kept him busy. As long as he had something to do, to keep his mind off everything else going on. He could teach, although he’d understand if a university didn’t want his name associated with them right now. He had experience. Youngest pharma CEO. Only pharma CEO to be publicly put on a hit list by the people who hired him. He was a great example of what not to do.

Huh. Maybe he should look into therapy before exposing young minds to whatever he had going on upstairs.

He thought about reaching out to Jack, just to hear his voice. He never actually did it. What would be the point? Jack had changed Matt’s life, and he’d changed it for the better, but Matt had never been more than a job to him. Once the board terminated the contract, he’d ghosted. Hell, when they got rammed, and Matt had begged him to take care of Norah, Jack had pointed out he wasn’t being paid for that.

He didn’t get out of bed for two days after that. He’d like to have said he left his phone in the other room, but it would have been a lie. It just didn’t ring.

Finally, he peeled himself out of bed and made himself shower. His own stink annoyed him. He called Norah, just to check in. He applied for a couple of adjunct faculty jobs because he knew sitting around the house wasn’t going to do him any favors. He downloaded a huge number of books onto his e-reader. He had time for that now.

---