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Chapter One

Liam

"You're like a son to me"

Shit

Bad news

No one follows you're like a son toto be off the chain Let’s celebrate with the fine scotch I’ve been saving

Not that I want the scotch

I know, I know I'ner suits, sars, sip scotch

I've got the suit down, but the rest?

Cigars are nasty

Scotch is bitter

I'll take a , the better I love the look I get when I sip a cosmo or an appletini

Men roll their eyes

Wo arms

Easy peasy

"Sit," Preston continues "Have a drink with me" He motions to the leather armchair across from hilasses

"Let lasses Sit in the burgundy armchair across from Preston

The same way I have a hundred times

Preston took over as ot into trouble (it happened a lot), he sat me down, told me how much he appreciated me Then…

This

I'ain

A helpless kid, waiting for news about his father's surgery Desperate to hear anything other than I'm sorry, Liam, but he didn't make it

It's the office The stupid shelf full of economic theory

The oak walls

The hardwood floors

The leather chairs

It's too familiar

"You're supposed to pour two ounces" He waits for me to settle "But you've always marched to the beat of your own drum, Liam" He stares into the middle distance with a soft smile One of those I'm lost in a memory smiles

I appreciate the look on a forht in Paris, up against the wall? I've never come that many times before

This?

I can't fucking do this

"Give it a chance" Preston raises his glass "Cheers"

"Cheers" I raise Force a smile S a mouthful

A little sweet, fruity, the distinct taste of expensive alcohol

Notconversation?

I down half lass

Preston sets his on the side table "How is it?"

"Fucking fantastic" I finish the rest Refill Settle into my seat

Preston holds his gaze The parental one I know OnlyI can't place