Page 66 of Power Play Rivals

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Page 66 of Power Play Rivals

If looks could kill, then this Boeuf Bourguignon would have been my last meal.

I watch her expression morph from hurt to outright enraged before she makes the decision to get up from her seat, coaxing me to stand up, too.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Roxanne. That… was uncalled for,” I apologize profusely since I know that was a fucking low blow. Even for me. Fuck! “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. Please, Roxanne, sit down. Finish your meal at least.”

She pauses for a bit but ultimately sits back down in front of me.

“You really are a heartless asshole when you want to be, Trent Nichols. You know that?”

“So I’ve been told. Again, I am sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Yes, it was. Don’t… don’t… ever say his name again.”

I nod because what else can I say after shooting off my mouth and hurting her right where it would do the most damage?

I’m a heartless asshole, alright.

“Un… like… Rex,” she commences on a stammer, her trembling voice making me feel even more like a piece of shit. “I don’t have the means to pick up my things and just leave Boston,” she adds once she regains full control of her voice. “Believe me, if I could, I would have by now. But my family and friends are here. My clients, my job, even my pain-in-the-ass employer are all here. All Rex has is a club that no longer brings him any joy. Not when all the memories of it are tied with Martha. So yes, Rex shouldn’t be made to stay in a place where only pain resides. And this is not only my professional opinion but my personal one, too.”

“You once told me that our problems follow us everywhere we go,” I point out. “That we shouldn’t run from them but face them head-on.”

“It’s not our problems that we need escaping from. It’s the memories that consume our sanity.”

I slouch back in my seat and think about that for a moment.

I mean, really think about what she’s trying to explain.

“Rex needs a reprieve from his misery, Trent,” she adds when she sees that I’m really trying to understand where both of them are coming from. “Most men in his position would try just about anything for one moment’s peace. Most would find that numbness at the end of a bottle or whoring their way around town just to feel anything other than the mind-numbing pain of losing the person they loved most. Rex isn’t doing that. His way of coping with the loss is to move to a place that holds some of his most cherished memories. Memories that aren’t tainted by Martha’s absence.”

“Back at the ranch, you mean?”

“Yes. It’s true that he’ll never forget Martha and will always feel her presence, but at the ranch, he can at least wake up without the boulder on his chest suffocating him all the time.”

“And he can’t do that here?”

“Not when everything reminds him of her.” She lets out a sad sigh. “I need to know something.”

“What?”

“Is your job security more important than your friend’s happiness and mental well-being?

“Who’s punching below the belt now?” I wisecrack at the insult.

“There you go again. Constantly evading the question. For once in your life, let yourself be vulnerable and just admit that the real reason why you’re opposed to selling the club isn’t just out of fear of losing your job but because you don’t want to see Rex leave, either.”

“You’re right,” I admit, forlorn. “I don’t.”

“Have you told him?”

“No.”

“And why do you think that is?” She frowns when I refuse to reply. “Vulnerability isn’t a sign of weakness, Trent. Telling someone that you love them and will miss them doesn’t make you any less of a man. But in this instance, not being there for your friend—a man you once confided that you cared about more than your own father—would make you less than. A man who doesn’t stand by the ones he loves is no man at all in my book.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it on me. Tell me how you really feel,” I grumble sarcastically.

“I just did.” She grins victoriously. “Do the right thing, Trent. Deep down, you want to do it anyway.”

“And the club? My team?”




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