Page 65 of The Compass Series

I called Damian the grave digger. He had an ability I’d never seen before in a person—the ability to dig up dirt on anyone.

He’d been able to unlock secrets people thought were buried deep.

The only secrets he was unable to uncover were probably the ones he craved the most—the story behind his biological parents.

No matter how hard he tried, he’d never been able to track them down. I knew it ate at him every single day.

When he and I met, I made him promise not to dig up dirt on people I knew before he came into my life. I didn’t need to know the skeletons of my business partners. Rich people did a lot of weird shit.

Damian was dressed in black from head to toe, as always. Black suit, black tie, black shoes. Every day, he showed up wearing all black and had ever since I met him. He said it was his favorite color and matched his soul.

I couldn’t help but smirk at his emo tendencies.

At the same time, he was built like a linebacker.

He stood at over six feet four with muscle on muscle.

I wasn’t too close-minded to state he was a good-looking guy.

Women would’ve been all over him if he wasn’t grimacing all the time.

If it wasn’t for his cold personality, he’d have women throwing themselves at him on the regular.

“Anyway, got bad news,” he said, brushing his thumb against his nose.

“First, I didn’t get to tell you the joke of the day.”

He gave me a blank stare. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’ve told you a joke every day for the past two years. Of course I’m serious.”

“You won’t be in a joking mood after I tell you the bad news.”

I stood from my desk and slid my hands into my pockets. “Which is exactly why I should tell you the joke now.”

He sighed and shrugged. “Okay, whatever. Go.”

“Did you hear about the new restaurant called Karma? There’s no menu—you get what you deserve.” I snickered, smacking the side of my leg. “Get it? Karma? You get what you?—”

“I get it. It’s just far from funny.”

“I’ll get you laughing one of these times. Mark my words.”

“Don’t hold your breath. Now, can I tell you the shit news?”

I nodded.

His brow furrowed, and I could tell whatever he was about to say was going to be bad. Whenever Damian’s brows got closer during our meetings, nothing good was coming from him.

“The Brooklyn property fell through.”

I moved toward the edge of my desk, feeling as if I’d been sucker punched. Every inch of mirth evaporated from my body. “What do you mean it fell through? We had that in our grip. It was all but a done deal. Besides, no one even knew about it except us.”

“I know. Don’t know how it happened, but they decided to sell the building to another buyer.”

“Who?”

“They wouldn’t say.”

Dammit. Damian was right. After that news, I was far from in a good mood.

“I’m going to find out, though,” Damian said, resolute and sure.

“Yeah, thanks.”

He grimaced, of course, and stood from his chair. His gray eyes locked with mine as he shrugged again. “Your joke was kind of funny,” he dryly stated, trying to make me feel better.

“You don’t gotta lie, Damian.”

“All right. It wasn’t funny at all.”

I rubbed my hands over my face and sighed. “When you find out who bought the property, let me know.” I moved back around to my desk and plopped down. “You coming to the dinner party on Friday night?”

“Am I coming to a dinner party for an asshole I hate to the depths of my core to celebrate him getting a job he doesn’t deserve?

I think I’ll pass. I don’t even know why you hired someone as incompetent as that douche to run the West Coast division.

I could do a better job than he ever could. He’s a joke.”

Was he wrong about my new business partner Jason?

No. He was the only person I truly couldn’t stand in my life.

Everything about the spoiled jerk rubbed me the wrong way.

But was I giving Jason the opportunity because his father offered to partner with me on my dream of building luxury low-income properties if I hired his son? Yes.

Jason would be taking over Roe Real Estate West Coast in the coming weeks, and my anxiety about it all was through the roof.

That Friday night, we were having a celebration dinner for Jason where I’d do some kind of passing of the keys to him.

It was a photo opportunity to paint Jason in a good light and probably his parents’ idea, seeing how most of the time, Jason was in the press for being a trust fund idiot.

Over the past two years or so, he’d seemed to tame his party-animal ways, but that didn’t mean I put any trust in him running a part of my business. Still, I respected his dad enough to give it a shot.

Walter Rollsfield was one of the richest men in the world, and he was the first person who ever invested in me at a young age.

Since then, he’d been like a father figure to me.

His son, on the other hand? A hot damn mess who left a disaster everywhere he went.

I had my fears about hiring Jason, but my hope was that he would get bored with the job over time—just like he got bored with everything else—and I’d be able to hire a real leader for the position.

Plus, I’d have both Walter’s and my wallet to build my dream properties.

It was a risk to take Jason on, but the bigger risk was losing Walter’s backing for my next business endeavor—which reminded me how perturbed I was that I’d lost the property that afternoon.

If only I knew who’d gotten in the way of my Brooklyn dream.

The moment I found out, I was going to raise some hell.

What a shitastic day.

I was in a mood. I’d been in a mood since Damian informed me about the lost property. A mood bad enough that I doubted any of my favorite things would’ve been able to pull me from my grump-fest. Whenever I was in a mood, I needed two things: Mom and Cheetos.

After stuffing my face with Cheetos Puffs, I picked up my cell phone and called the only woman willing to have heart-to-hearts with me when I was cranky. My number one spot on speed dial.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s it going?” Mom asked when she answered my call.

I sat back in my chair and groaned.

She knew exactly what that groan meant, too.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to fly out to New York to make you some chicken and dumplings? You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

I almost took her up on the offer. What could I say? I was a mama’s boy and talking to her always made the failures seem less harsh.

“I’m good, Mom. Just wanted to feel a piece of home tonight.”

“How about you come home for a quick visit?” she urged. “Kentucky is missing you.”

I’d been in NYC since I was eighteen years old, and just last month, I turned twenty-eight. With each day that passed, New York felt more like home base. The only thing missing was Mom’s love and cooking.

“I’ll be down there in a few weeks for a visit. Until then, I have a lot of work to do.”

It was her turn to groan, and I knew exactly what that groan meant, too.

“Work, work, work,” she complained. “Don’t you ever make time for play?”

“Play doesn’t bring you income,” I said.

“But it brings you the important things. Don’t you think it’s time you settled down with someone?

Maybe give me a few grandbabies. Or, heck, I’ll take a grand fur baby at this point.

You can’t stay cooped up in your house and office all the time, Connor.

You have to put yourself out there to experience real life. ”

You know how I said Mom was almost always in my number one spot? She only slipped a little when she’d scold me for not having a life outside of work.

I wasn’t built to be the family man. I decided that a long time ago when I chose to give myself to my work.

I was only twenty-eight years old, but I had the income of an eighty-year-old man who’d worked his life to death.

I’d spent the past decade of my life hustling hard to build my empire.

With that gift, I had to let go of some other things, like relationships and family.

I didn’t have the time for it. It would be selfish for me to bring a woman into my life and not give her my all.

At least that was the bullshit reason I gave people.

The truth of the matter was relationships terrified me.

Giving someone your all to only have it taken away someday? No, thank you. Not interested.

“I hear you, Mom.” I lied to get her to pull back on the topic.

“Don’t say that to get me to shut up, Connor Ethan. I mean it. Make time for the important stuff. After beating cancer twice, I know how much that important stuff means. Money isn’t everything.”

“But it’s enough,” I joked. “Really, Mom. I hear you. I’ll work on putting myself out there.”

“Liar.”

What could I say? She knew me well.

“Listen to your mother, Connor. What’s the point of having an empire if you have no one to pass it down to once your time comes to an end?”

“I already have charities lined up to give everything to, so we’re all set there.” She sighed, and I felt bad.

“Connor Ethan, don’t upset your mother. Promise me you’ll do at least one thing that isn’t work-related. You’ll find a hobby over the next few weeks.”

“Mom—”

“Promise me! On my life!”

I hated when she did that. I hated when she made me promise on her life because I knew I could never break that promise.

After you’d watched your mother battle cancer twice, after you’d shaved your head multiple times with her in a small bathroom with a cheap electric razor, you realized how important said mom’s life was.

I’d never make a promise on her life if I had no drive to keep that word. The desperation in her voice was almost too painful to bear. She worried about me being lonely.

I worried about that sometimes, too. To combat my loneliness, I stayed later at work some nights, spent hours in the gym, or played Call of Duty with people from around the world.

You hadn’t lived a worthy life until a fifteen-year-old in Canada called you a fucking cock-sucking little prick bitch after midnight.

I hoped they didn’t kiss their mothers with those filthy mouths.

“I promise,” I swore. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have called you.”

“Language, Connor,” she scolded.

I downed my whiskey. “Sorry, Mom.”

“I have to go, sweetie. Danny is picking me up for a late date.”

I sat up straighter in my chair. “Wait. Danny? Who’s Danny?!”

“Oh honey, I can’t talk now. I love you. We’ll talk soon! I’ll call you tomorrow. Kisses!” And with that, she hung up.

Who the hell was Danny?

Within seconds, I was shooting off a text to Jax down in Kentucky. Even though I’d moved to New York, he was one of my closest friends in the whole world. I knew he’d be able to help me figure out what was going on.

Connor: Who the hell is Danny?

Jax: Good to hear from you, too.

Connor: Sorry. Hi, Jax. How’s Kennedy? How are the kids? How’s the weather? Who the fuck is Danny?!

Jax: Language, Connor.

Connor: Yeah, yeah, yeah. My mom said she has a date with Danny. Who is this guy?

Jax: Unlike every other person in this small town, I stay out of other people’s business.

Connor: My mom can’t be out there dating jerks.

Jax: Danny isn’t a jerk.

Connor: So you do know him! Tell me everything. I’m gonna call you.

Jax: Don’t call me, Connor. I hate talking on the phone.

Connor: Even with your bestie?

Jax: You’re not my bestie.

Connor: Your sense of humor doesn’t come off as well as it should via text.

Jax: …Right.

Connor: Tell me one detail about this Danny guy, and I’ll leave you alone.

Jax: Swear?

Connor: On my mother.

Jax: Fine. He’s a hardworking employee.

Connor: What?! This guy works for you?! What in the land of betrayal is that?!

Jax: Listen, it’s not my fault he met your mom when she brought some of her baked goods to me at a landscaping job. It just so happened Danny was there with me, and he liked her baked goods.

Connor: I hope to God you’re talking about her lemon bars and not her personal baked goods.

Jax: Definitely talking about her personal baked goods. It seems Danny’s really into her cinnabuns.

Connor: You think this is funny, but it’s not. Now you have to think about my sweet innocent mother having 21sexual relations with some random guy named Danny!

Jax: You want me to think about your mom having sex?

Connor: What? No. Stop. Don’t do that.

Jax: It’s too late. The images are already in my head.

Connor: I hope Kennedy divorces you.

Jax: Do you think sweet Rebecca is a top or bottom?

Connor: This conversation is over.

Jax: I wonder if she’s into role-playing.

Connor: Shut up.

Jax: It’s like those bad knock-knock jokes you’ve always told. Rebecca’s like knock-knock, and Danny asks who’s there, and bam! It’s her sitting on his face.

Connor: I hope you burn in hell.

Jax: I could use the tan. Night, kid.

After a conversation with Jax that only gave me more stress than I had before, I was left wondering how my sweet mother ended up getting tangled up with some dude named Danny.