Desperately Seeking Epic(81)

“When Marcus walked in on you two and Clara left . . . that was a bad night,” Ashley notes.

“It was,” I agree.

“What happened?”



After Clara stormed out, Marcus cocked his head and pursed his lips in thought. “Okay. So maybe she wasn’t his lover.”

I clenched my eyes closed. Was he f*cking serious? It took her losing her shit like that to convince him?

“So . . . how long has that been going on?” He pointed at the desk where Clara had been bent over for my pleasure just minutes before.

“Not long,” I grumbled as I shoved the office chair under the desk. I was f*cking pissed. Pissed at Marcus for walking in and making a scene. I was pissed at Clara for calling me spineless. I was pissed at myself for being gutless. I should have stood up for her. I wanted to. But I didn’t know what to say. Marcus was family. Also, I didn’t want to imply she and I were casual . . . maybe we were, but I didn’t know. I didn’t want to make it seem like we were an item either. I wasn’t sure what we were, and in that moment, I felt like I’d piss her off no matter what I said. So I said nothing. I’d disappointed two people at the same damn time. Not my best hour.

“You . . . with her?”

“I don’t f*cking know, Marcus, okay?” I spat out.

“Why are you pissed at me?” he asked angrily.

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Um, let’s see,” I began with a haughty laugh. “Why can’t you cut her some slack? I mean, seriously.”

He blinked at me, his expression unreadable.

“Our business is better than ever. She stays out of your way, for the most part. She could fire you for acting like such an * and if she did, I couldn’t blame her.” I knew I was treading on thin ice.

“You’d let her fire me?”

“I’ve tried staying out of it. I’ve tried letting you guys work it out on your own. I love you, man, but you won’t quit, Marcus. She’s not going anywhere. You’re not going to bully her out of here and frankly, I don’t want her to go.”

His brows shot up. “You love her, don’t you?”

I turned from him and dropped my head. That’s what it sounded like I’d just said. Is that what I meant? Shit. I was confused. Maybe not confused, but definitely in denial. “It has to stop, Marcus. You have to stop goading her.”

When I spun around and saw him again, he was frowning. “I just . . . I don’t get why he left it to her and not me.” I felt bad for him, I really did. I let out a long sigh. That was what it all boiled down to. He was hurt. In a way, I was like Dennis’ first son. He helped raise me. With my career and skills, I thought he felt he had to leave me half the business. He knew I could run the jumps. But with Clara, it made no sense. She was working in orthodontics. She’d mentioned it once. What did orthodontics have to do with skydiving? It was a puzzle piece that just wouldn’t fit no matter how hard we tried to jam it in place. Plus, Marcus had always taken care of the office.

“Maybe if you try being nicer to her . . . she’ll tell you eventually. Dennis loved you. I’m sure there’s a good reason why he did what he did.” I wanted to know just as badly as Marcus, if not more.

He bobbed his head a few times. “I gotta go.”

“Marcus,” I called after him as he left the office. But he didn’t turn back. I paced in the office for a few minutes, trying to get my wits about me. This night sure went in the shitter fast. Marcus wasn’t pleased with me. But I knew better than to mess with him right now. He needed some time to decompress. Clara was pissed at me, as well, and rightfully so. With a deep breath, I steeled myself. It was time to try and fix this.



She wouldn’t answer her door when I knocked. After knocking for the fourth time, I tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. I marched in, determined. I would fix this. Somehow. I made my way to the kitchen and found her sitting at the table, a cup of coffee beside her and a folded piece of paper in front of her.

“Guess you didn’t hear me knocking,” I jested. She didn’t find it amusing. Pulling out a chair, I took a seat beside her as she sipped her coffee.

“I’m terrible at apologies,” I began.

“I don’t need your apology,” she quipped. “I need nothing from you.”

Ouch. That didn’t feel good. Her armor was on now and I hated it. I’d gotten to see the softness that laid beneath the hard exterior and now she was hiding it from me.

“I’m sorry,” I continued. Maybe she didn’t want my apology, but she’d get it anyway. “I was thrown.”

She huffed with annoyance. “I’m going to tell you why he left me the business. Then I want you to leave.”

My brows furrowed. She wanted me to leave. Shit. This was bad.

She slid the piece of paper in front of her toward me. “Read that. It explains everything.”

I unfolded it, having absolutely no idea what this paper would reveal. It was my uncle’s handwriting. I recognized it immediately.



Dear Clara,

My name is Dennis Falco. I’m sure you’ve heard my name. I’m sure in your mind, I’m a monster; an evil person.

When I was twenty-two, I was living in Florida. I worked as a mechanic, changing oil at some dinky shop. I was wasting time. And life. I was my father’s greatest disappointment.