“So, what were those papers you were trying to show me?” I say, bringing the beer quickly to my face, gulping.
He says nothing.
We sip and watch the dogs roam around the yard in chilling silence. When Holden leaves to go get a second beer, I can hear the chant starting up again.
“A luz sabe.”
“A luz sabe.”
“A luz sabe.”
The sconces flicker on and off rapidly, daring me to do something. The sliding glass door opens up slowly and Holden pops through it. The simple act of him walking back out stops the lights from malfunctioning.
Chapter seven
The Fall
“One carefully crafted island,” I blurt out, pulling my hand to my mouth as soon as it slips out. The urge to say every thought in my head has become an undesirable reflex. Why did I just say that?
“It’s almost like you can’t stop yourself from being honest…”
Her booming voice jumps into our conversation. Merely seconds later, her shadow appears on the side of the concrete wall, behind Holden. The same figure I saw reflecting off the dumpster an hour earlier.
It feels like her presence is mocking me. That me, struggling to make something out of myself, is just another day of amusement for the shadow hanging outside of my mind.
I divert my eyes away from the wall and back to him, his focus on the dogs running frantically in the yard. Zooming back and forth like a dance you can’t look away from.
From the clips I found online last night and this morning, Holden always seemed like the kind of man who can carry any room. Someone everyone leans in just to hear what they have to say next.
Aidan used to be that way.
I guess that kind of charisma fades with time. Aidan, the guy who I once paced the Malibu Pier with for hours talking about our hopes, dreams and shaping our lives to exactly what we want it to be ends up getting swallowed by the weight of it. Distant from that version of himself.
Sitting next to Holden, it feels eerily similar.
Holden spreads his legs wide open, leaning forward a bit to extend an arm out—tossing another ball to Charlie and Jack. We both sit in silence. Each moment that passes is excruciating, like a splinter that is wedged under my skin, begging to be ripped out.
I settle in my lounge chair as Holden proceeds to toss the ball a few more times. A green-and-blue vein pops out as he extends his arm even further to get the ball to go to the very end of the yard.
“Stop acting like an assistant and do something…” the voice echoes again. She seems increasingly aggravated. I watch her move her fingers in the air, anticipating her next move. Shutting my eyes tightly at the fear of what she might do.
Holden takes another swig of his beer, setting the other empty bottle on the ground next to him.
“What’s your favorite movie?” I blurt out in a panic.
He turns his head from the dogs to me with his voice elevated. “What?”
“What’s your favorite movie?” I mumble again.
“I guess if I were to pick a movie, it would beTwo-Skilled.”
I bite my lip and sink into my chair further.
“What’s yours?”
Mm-hmm, I didn’t expect him to Uno Reverse the question back at me. It would be too cheesy to repeat the same answer back to him, right? So I deflect with, “I like any movie you’re in.”
I smirk, trying to avoid his eyes, remembering our annual summit at BP where Albert, our founder, always reinforces that all our clients deserve to be on a pedestal.
