My alarm went off at 5:30.
I groaned and reached for it, swiping across the screen to turn off the sound.
Natalie kicked the sheets slightly then rolled over the other way.
I opened my phone and looked through the emails that had piled up in the middle of the night. There was also a text message from my brother.
Told you it was that easy. He’d texted me sometime after I’d left the bar, but I’d been too occupied to pay attention to anything besides the woman I took to my home. I got out of bed and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, walking into my closet to pull on my workout attire. Once I was dressed, I moved to the other side of my condo, where my private gym was located. With my headphones over my ears, I got on the treadmill and did my warm-up, the city still dark because the sun hadn’t crested the horizon just yet.
I did this every morning, worked out hard for an hour and a half to fulfill my cardiovascular needs, to keep my muscles strong, to keep my blood moving since I’d spend the rest of my day sitting or standing still.
Once I was finished with the workout, I returned to my bedroom, where she was still sleeping, and hopped in the shower. When I stepped out, I got dressed in jeans and a shirt because I intended to be in my lab for the day instead of in my office. By the time I had my coffee at the dining table with my laptop, Natalie woke up.
She came into the room, wearing the outfit she’d had on the night before. She grabbed the pot of coffee and helped herself to the extra mug I’d put out for her. She took a sip as she stood there.
I focused on my laptop.
“Morning.”
I usually ignored people when I was working, but I’d learned that was rude, so I tried to stop. “Morning.”
She took a seat. “What are you working on?”
I really didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to have a long conversation when there was only one thing on my mind. My evening had been focused on her, but now she wasn’t the priority anymore. “I have a lot of work to do today, Natalie. I can have my driver take you home.” I’d told her about my job, and that seemed to impress her, not just because of my net worth.
“Alright, I get it.” She pushed the mug aside.
I detected her annoyance, so I turned to her. “What’s wrong?” I had the worst time reading people. I spoke plainly because it was more efficient, but that wasn’t how other people communicated. They communicated when they didn’t communicate at all. It was the dumbest thing humans did. It was another reason I would never remarry, let alone have a relationship.
“I just hoped for more…”
I raised an eyebrow, not having a clue what that meant.
“Like breakfast?”
“I don’t eat breakfast.”
“Affection?”
“You want to have sex?” I asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “Like a kiss goodbye. A hug. Something like that.”
I stared at her blankly. “I meant everything I said last night. I just got divorced. I only wanted to get laid.”
She chuckled slightly. “Well, at least you’re honest about it.”
I’d thought that was clear. Was that not clear? Ugh, I hated this. If jerking off was better, I would just stick to that. But the sex last night had been great. It was so much better to touch another person, to share the passion, the kisses, and the movements of our bodies. “I’m not very good at this, Natalie. I’m not a people person.”
Her wrath started to subside. “I guess I’m disappointed because I actually like you. A one-night stand is fine, but you’re really sexy, good in bed, interesting… I guess I’m sad I won’t get to see you again.”
I wished my brother were here. “We can see each other again. I just don’t want a relationship.” I spoke my mind, and so far, she seemed to understand without being overly offended.
“Like a booty call?”
I wasn’t entirely familiar with the concept. “Sure.”
“Alright. I’ll settle for that.” She pulled out her phone and pushed it toward me. “Give me your number.”
I’d just told her I only wanted sex, and she was fine with it. My brother was right. It wasn’t that hard to get laid. Being married had made me forget what it was like to be single, to pick up a girl for one purpose. I entered my number.
She smiled as she took it back. Then she texted me.
I glanced at my phone, seeing a happy face emoji.
She got to her feet then moved her hand to my shoulder, her fingers digging into my shirt and muscles. “Call me.” She leaned down and kissed me on the mouth.
I kissed her back, only partially invested because I had more important things on my mind right now.
Then she pulled away, giving me a wink.
I watched her go.
Six
Deacon
I want to check out your place. Tucker’s message popped up on my phone.
I was in the back seat of the car, reading through my work on the commute home. I texted him back. I just hit the tunnel. My driver can pick you up on the way.
Ooh…your driver. Keep saying shit like that, and you’re gonna keep getting laid.
We pulled up to the curb outside the Four Seasons, and my driver opened the back door for him.
Tucker moved onto the seat beside me, my satchel between us.
I returned my papers to the folder and put everything away.
It was a short drive to my building, but it took fifteen minutes because of traffic.
Tucker got comfortable, stretching out his legs and resting his arm on the door. “So…you going to give me the details or what?”
I pulled my satchel close to me, never letting it leave my sight. “Dr. Gallagher and I decided to make a few changes to our—”
“No, not that,” he said quickly. “With Natalie.”
She’d slept over. Once it was over, I didn’t really think about it much. “Fine.”
“Fine?” he asked. “Was the sex good?”
“Yeah.”
“What position?”
I was not good at guy talk. “The sex was good. Do those details matter?”
“Didn’t take you as the gentleman type.”
“Gentleman?” I asked in confusion.
He was patient with me, but he sighed nonetheless. “When a guy fucks a girl and doesn’t dish about it, he’s considered to be a gentleman. You’re protecting her reputation.”
“She’s not married, so what reputation do I need to protect?”
Tucker dropped it. “Come on, tell me.”
I shrugged. “Missionary.”
He nodded. “Nice.”
“And then doggy.”
Now his eyes narrowed.
“And then she was on top.” I answered his questions, so maybe the conversation would stop now.
“You fucked her three times?” he asked incredulously.
I nodded. That was why I’d been so tired today. I didn’t usually need a lot of sleep, but a couple hours just wasn’t enough for me to really focus, to not get snappy with everyone around me.
He grinned and gripped my shoulder. “Welcome back, man.”
Being with another woman besides Valerie wasn’t difficult at all. I was indifferent to her, just as indifferent as I’d been when we were married, and the sex was much better.
“Told you it would be easy.”
“Yes, it was easy.”
“Because you’re hot, man. When you’re hot, you can get away with anything.”
I had to admit I wasn’t exactly delightful, but she wanted me anyway, like my personality didn’t matter at all.
“You can get laid anywhere, anytime.”
In college, I hadn’t been that interested in women, but I hooked up on the weekends. When I graduated, I did the same thing, but it wasn’t long before I met Valerie…and everything went to shit. It was a relief to have my bachelorhood back.
But I’d rather have my son.
We pulled up to the building, moved past the door
man, and then took the elevator to my floor.
“Wow, this place is already pretty nice,” Tucker said. “I haven’t even seen your condo yet.”
“How did your interview go?”
“Good. Wasn’t really much of an interview. Just a formality.”
The doors opened and revealed a spacious hallway with hardwood floors, a long rug down the center, and tables that held fresh flowers even though no one stuck around long enough to enjoy them.
I reached my door and unlocked it.
We stepped into the expansive living room. I was used to the view, had never really been impressed by it because inanimate objects were of little importance. I carried my satchel to the dining table and pulled out the laptop.
Tucker whistled loudly. “Jesus, this place is unbelievable.”
I’d been rich a long time. Wasn’t sure why it continued to surprise him.
He took a look around, examining the paintings, the fireplace, the eighty-inch TV, the sculptures, and everything else someone picked out. “Glad to see you still had some money left over after Valerie took her cut.”
I didn’t really care about that. She could have it all if she gave me Derek.
Footsteps sounded from the hallway, heels echoing against the hardwood floor. Only one person was ever in my residence when I wasn’t there, so I already knew it was Cleo, the woman who had become my personal assistant and home manager.
She had a feminine voice that always had the subtle ring of authority. “Deacon, I’m sorry about the late delivery. There was a mix-up at the dry cleaners, and the groceries took longer than usual.”
I didn’t care about any of that.
She came into the dining room and looked at me, waiting for a response.
I lifted my gaze and stared at her, unsure what to say. She always looked at me like that, as if she’d asked me a question I didn’t hear.
She was in a tight pencil skirt, dark blue, with a white collared dress shirt on top. She had a petite frame, a very slim waistline, and her long brown hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, showing her slender neck and her sharp cheekbones. She was young to be handling clients like me and the other residents in the building, but she made up for her youth with her confidence. She held her own with me, was direct, so it was easy for me to understand what she wanted.
I pulled out the rest of my papers and set them on the table.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked, continuing to stand there, her hourglass frame highlighted in the tightness of her clothing. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup, just a little bit of mascara and some lipstick.
I had some mail that needed to be delivered. “Yes.” I glanced down the hallway. “There’re some packages on my desk that need to be sent out.”
“Got it.” She walked down the hallway to gather everything.
Tucker walked close to me. “You going to introduce me or what?”
“Why?” I asked bluntly.
His eyes narrowed.
Cleo returned with a couple envelopes that were already addressed. “These three, right?”
I looked at her arms. “Yes.”
Tucker stepped into her path. “I’m Deacon’s brother, Tucker.” He extended his hand.
“Oh, it’s lovely to meet you.” She set down the envelopes then walked up to my brother, giving him a firm handshake. “I’m Cleo. I’m your brother’s assistant and concierge.”
“Pleasure to meet you. And in case you haven’t noticed, that’s just how he is. Don’t take it personally.”
She smiled as she dropped her hand. “I know Deacon is just a brilliant man who operates on a different wavelength that no one understands. And that’s not a problem for me.”
I turned to her, my eyebrow slightly raised when I heard what she said, how she realized I was different without someone needing to explain that to her. I’d always been misunderstood, but she seemed to understand me.
Tucker slid his hands into his pockets. “You’re one of the few.”
Cleo grabbed the envelopes off the table and carried them to the door. “Text me if you need anything. Have a good day.”
“Bye, Cleo.” My brother waved.
I watched her go before I took a seat at the table.
When the door shut, Tucker moved into the kitchen and helped himself to a beer before he returned, placing one in front of me. “Damn, she’s hot.” He pulled out a chair and took a seat, his back to the window.
I twisted off the cap and took a drink.
“What’s her story?”
I stared at him.
“Is she married? Got a boyfriend?”
“Why would I know that?”
“You never ask her anything personal?”
I didn’t ask her anything at all.
“She’s so fine. She had the perfect body, the perfect face…”
I drank from my beer again.
“You don’t think she’s hot?”
“She works for me.” There were basic rules, not to shit where you eat. I never got involved with any women who worked for me at the lab, and I knew the same rules applied here.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes…she’s beautiful.” I’d noticed it the first time I met her, when she greeted me in the entryway and escorted me to my residence. But I forgot about it the second after I noticed. I noticed it again when she witnessed my breakdown. Before I knew what I was saying, I’d poured my heart out to her, let her see my angry tears, and I realized she was the first person I’d told about my struggles.
“Set me up.”
“What?” I asked, surprised by the request.
“Come on. Put in a good word for me.”
“I’m not setting you up with Cleo.”
“Why? You got a thing for her?”
“No. But she works for me.”
“Yeah, you,” he said. “Not me.”
I drank from my beer.
“Dude.”
“You don’t even know her.”
“And I’d like to get to know her—”
“You’re just going to fuck her and never call her again.”
His eyes narrowed. “And what’s the problem with that?”
“Just drop it, alright?” My temper started to flare. “I don’t want it to be weird between you two.”
“She’s a professional. And maybe I will like her. She seems cool.”
“You said two words to her.”
He pivoted his body toward me farther, his eyes narrowed. “You sure you don’t have a thing for her? Because it’s totally fine if you do—”
“I don’t. This is where I live. Don’t want any bullshit where I live.”
My brother finally let it go. “Alright. You want to give me a tour? Or is it just these rooms and a bedroom?”
“It’s 6,000 square feet.”
He almost spat out the drink he’d just taken. “Damn, Deacon. What do you need all that space for?”
I shrugged.
“Can I crash with you until I get situated?”
I didn’t want to share my space with anybody. I was finally on my own again, living in solitude, the way I preferred. But I wouldn’t reject my brother’s request. “Yes. But only for a few weeks.”
“A deadline? Really?”
“I’m afraid if I don’t give you one, you’ll never leave.”
He chuckled. “That’s a good point…”
Seven
Deacon
It seemed futile, but I had to keep trying.
I stood at the window and pressed the phone to my ear. It was almost six, so it was still early in California, and I listened to the phone ring.
Valerie picked up. “What?” Her voice was so hostile, as if I’d run her over with a car and left her for dead.
I was already so bad at talking to people, and now I had to deal with this combative woman who was impossible to decipher. “Hello.” I tried using my brother’s advice, keeping it simple.
But she was still difficult. “What, Deacon?”
I already felt my temper flaring, the migraine forming behind my temple. “Valerie, it’s been a few months now. I was hoping we could move forward.” I did my best to be cooperative, to do whatever the hell she wanted to make this work, but all she wanted was to make my life difficult—as if I was the one who’d cheated.
“If you wanted to move forward, you should have stayed.”
I closed my eyes, furious. “It’s done, Valerie. Paperwork is filed. We can’t go backward. Let’s move forward.”
“Alright. Then let’s not speak—”
“Please put my son on the phone.” My fingertips pinched the bridge of my nose, a poor attempt to bridle my rage. “What kind of mother are you to keep a son away from his father? I was good to both of you. I gave you half my assets. I pay child support when you don’t need it. All I ask is—”
“If you wanted to be a father, you could have stayed.”
Now I started to yell. “If you wanted me to stay, then you shouldn’t have fucked some other guy!”
She seethed through the phone. “Don’t blame this on me—”
“I just want my son, Valerie. I don’t care about anything else.”
She ignored what I said. “You never really tried, Deacon. I wanted a husband. I wanted a relationship. You never gave me the time of day—”
“I can’t force myself to be in love with you.” My voice grew louder. “What you asked for is impossible—”
“But you didn’t try. Not once in five years.”
Because I’d never been in love at all with my wife, and my mind wasn’t capable of it. My brain was wired differently. I didn’t have the right combination of chemicals to feel the high everyone did. I was over thirty and never even came close to it. “I just can’t, Valerie. I’m different from other people.”
“Whatever,” she said. “You didn’t try to be a husband. So, I’m not going to try to help you.”
My hand tightened into a fist so hard my knuckles turned white. “Not the same fucking thing at all—”
“Goodbye, Deacon.”
“Don’t you fucking hang up on me—”
The Man Who Has No Soul Page 6