CHAPTER SIX Cole

Igrabbed the picture from my new employee and sat it back down on the table. He was visibly moved by the image, but I was never in the mood to reminisce about Jack, so I turned my back to him to hide my pain, hoping he would exit the room. I lifted my luggage onto the bed and began unpacking the small amount of clothes I'd traveled with. The majority of my clothes were already put away by Marla's team.

Marla was the only friend who had remained by my side after Alan left me. She couldn't forgive him for cheating, despite the fact Alan was the life of every party and everyone absolutely loved his personality. I'd depended on his likable disposition because, for some reason, I always felt like the stick-in-the-mud in that relationship.

Marla had a wildly successful interior design company and had insisted on handling my move and decorating my new home. She wasn't happy about me relocating, despite me saying I needed a fresh start.

"You can move to Mars, Cole, but you're still going to be miserable until you speak to someone about the hurt,"she'd advised.

Maybe she was right, but I couldn't handle the loneliness I'd felt in a city that was so big that it would seem a person couldn't possibly feel alone there. I'd miss her, my last close friend, but I stuck to my guns and here I was in my new home in Virginia Beach, about three hundred or so miles south of The Big Apple. I'd gone from a population of nine million in New York City to a city of less than half a million. Perhaps Marla was correct about me moving. I still felt lonely.

I kept my back to Chad while responding, not wanting him to see the pain in my eyes. "Yes, I knew him. Like I said, he was my best friend," I stated. "But he's been dead for more than two years, and I still I don't like to speak about him."

"He wishes you would," he said from behind me.

I dropped the pile of jeans back into the luggage and turned to face him, my arms crossed. "What did you just say?"

"Jack likes being remembered," he said, acting like we were discussing a buddy we both knew. "I'm sure he wishes you would talk about him again."

"And who the fuck are you?" I asked, boiling blood rushing to my face. "What would you know about Jack?"

"We communicate."

"You what?" I asked, thinking I must have misunderstood the musings of an idiot. "You knew Jack?"

"Not personally, but I know of him through Perry Jackson."

I sat on the edge of the bed and gazed at him like I'd just realized he was an alien being. "You know Perry, but you never met Jack, yet you communicate with him? And you think all that sounds normal?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure it doesn't sound normal," he admitted. "But Jack isn't normal."

"And exactly who are you to make that statement?" I asked. "You know he's dead, right?"

"Yes. Yes, I do," he stuttered, most likely realizing his attempt at first impressions with his new employer was suffering mightily. "Dead here," he added. "Maybe not dead, well, you know, in the other place he might be."

"The other place he might be?" I half choked out, wondering why I'd hired someone without checking references. "Forgive me if I disagree with you, young man. There is no other place."

"I'd have to disagree as well, sir," he defended. "I happen to think there is and Jack is there and he cares about you."

I stood up, mouth open, gawking at an incredibly beautiful boy who apparently had lost his mind. Whatever mumbo-jumbo he was selling had no value to me.

"I'm sorry, Chad, but I'm going to need you to leave. In fact, I won't be needing your assistance after all."

"Should I go back to washing the cars, sir?" he asked.

"No. You should go home, actually. I don't think you're a good fit for the sort of assistance I need here. Of course, I'll pay you for the day."

He appeared surprised at my reaction and stared directly at me. He might have been a bit odd, but he wasn't intimidated by me, that was for sure. "Because I know Jack?"

"Because what you're talking about is crazy town. I don't need that energy at this point in my life."

"You don't need love?"

I pointed to the bedroom door. "Please leave."

He stood there for a moment, studying me carefully, like he knew something I didn't. After just a few moments, he left the room. The downstairs door closed, so I moved to the French doors facing the beach and saw him walking down the sandy trail toward the water. His smooth skin glistened in the sun as the bright rays set his blond mane on fire with reflections of white and gold. He was a breathtaking vision of youth.

I walked to the table and picked the frame up, staring at me and Jack. He was laughing his spectacular laugh. The laugh I'd first heard when we'd modeled together, best friends immediately because neither of us wanted to fuck the other.

"He's just like you, Jack," I whispered.