Ethan Justice: Origins (Ethan Justice #1) Read Free

as Carmen disappeared into the thick of the Friday night crowd.
    “No. I think she might be available, but she’s not my type. Too short for me.”
    John thought about that for a moment. Five feet two versus six feet four. He had never considered height as an issue between two potential mates, but as he unintentionally pictured Mark and Carmen in his mind, the likely problems became clearer. He grimaced.
    “It’s a sixty-nine thing, old boy,” added Mark, in case John hadn’t quite cottoned on.
    “I get it. Please don’t say another word. I already swallowed down some sick.”
    “Are you interested?” enquired Mark, eyebrows raised, mouth stretched into a smirk. “My treat. You’re worse with women than I am. Call it a celebratory gift to start your new life.”
    “No, you’re all right, thanks. I promised my hand that I wouldn’t cheat on it.”
    Mark laughed and snorted in that way that only came with old money.
    “Mark, pack that racket in, or you’ll get us into a fight. Some of us peasants don’t appreciate the Sloane Ranger snort.”
    Embarrassed, Mark stopped abruptly and pointed at John. “Listen here, Smith, I know for a fact that your father sold his firm for upwards of fifteen million.”
    “It’s got nothing to do with the money. My dad’s the first in his family to have any. Besides, I won’t get a penny unless I join the professional classes.”
    “So have you anything in mind?”
    “No. I’ve wasted a week trying to think of something that interested me. All I managed to do was feel sick, grow a beard and develop chronic B.O.”
    “Sounds like a civil service job might suit you.”
    “Very good.” John took his bottle of Corona from the outstretched hand of Carmen. She had beautiful brown eyes. “You should tell my dad that one. He hates civil servants.”
    “I think he told it to me.”
    Ice cold Corona ran from the corner of John’s mouth as he failed to laugh and keep his lips together at the same time. “You bastard,” John said, brushing the liquid from his blue polo shirt before it soaked through. “This is my best shirt.”
    “Now I know why they call this place ‘Dribbles’,” Mark said. “Anyway, what’s this about best shirt? I thought that was your only shirt.”
    “Like I said, ‘You bastard’.”
    John looked up from his beer-dampened shirt to see that Mark was whispering into Carmen’s ear. A moment later she was gone, but there was more of a purpose to her stride. What was he up to?
    John grabbed his friend by the suit lapels. “I hope you haven’t done anything stupid.”
    Mark raised both hands from the table, palms facing John. “Me? Never.” A look of triumph spread across his face, like he’d won one of his ludicrous bets. “I’ve got it.”
    Pulling his arms back, John shook his head. “Go on,” he said.
    “Do you remember when Spunk Eyes Spencer attacked me in the playground, when we were about sixteen?”
    “Yeah, wasn’t it because you called him Spunk Eyes?”
    Mark considered this for a moment. “Yes, I suppose it must have been. Anyway, you took him down like you were born to it.”
    “What’s your point?”
    “I’ll never forget the look in your eyes as you faced off. It was like you were on a roller coaster ride, caught up in excitement and exhilaration, not a flicker of fear to be seen.”
    John took a swig from his bottle and swallowed, enjoying the memory of pulling Anthony Spencer from on top of Mark as Spunk Eyes swung fist after fist into his best friend’s face. He had enjoyed seeing the fear in the bully’s eyes. “I’m a bit old to be a boxer.”
    “What about the police?”
    “Are you serious?”
    “I don’t mean the boys in blue. I’m talking about your secret service types. They earn six-figure salaries, and you could get that look back.”
    “And they don’t exist.”
    “Believe me, John, they exist all right. I can’t believe I never thought of it before. Leave it with me, and I’ll see if I can