Leo's Chance(20)

I chuckle. I guess that’s the truth. Knowing in your mind what the right thing is and doing it can be two completely different things. Realizing what is right is the first step, but the follow through can get hung up on so many personal variables. I sigh and turn to Alana, taking the last swig of my beer. As I turn, I realize that I’m a lot drunker than I thought I was only two minutes ago. I need to get home.

"Alana, message that man."

I throw enough money to cover my drinks plus tip on the bar and stand up.

She looks up at me smiling. "Jake, I think I will. And you… you do whatever you need to do so that you’re not drinking in a bar alone after your next date with that girl." She winks and I chuckle back.

"It was nice to meet you. You have a ride home, right?"

"Yeah, I’m taking a cab. I don’t live far." She tilts her head. "It was really nice to meet you, too. I really mean that."

I smile and turn and walk out of the bar.

I make my way back to my condo and collapse on my couch, kicking my shoes off. I lie there for a few minutes, letting the feel of the alcohol lull me into a semi-sleep. Visions of Evie smiling at me across the table at the "Chart House" keep coming back to me, keeping my mind restless and eventually, I sit up and pull my phone out of my pocket. I’ve made a mistake with the alcohol. I’m not an alcoholic, I’m pretty certain of that. I’ve never had a problem having a glass of wine or two and stopping there. I don’t think I really have an addictive personality, surprising, considering where I come from. But I’m smart enough to acknowledge that I’ve spent a lot of years using alcohol to self-medicate, and Dr. Fox was right when he said that numbing the pain had never worked. I’m always right back where I started in the morning, only with a f*cked up hangover and even more regret.

I dial Dr. Fox’s office number, even though it’s after ten and I don’t think he’ll answer. The machine picks up and I hear his voice saying, ‘You’ve reached the office of Dr. Edward Fox. I’m unable to take your call right now, but please leave your name and phone number, even if you think I have it, and I’ll call you back as soon as possible. If you are in crisis, please hang up and dial 619-555-4573. Thank you."

I hang up without leaving a message. Yeah, I’m in crisis. My whole f*cking life is one big crisis.

I sit on the couch, holding my phone in my hand, staring at the wall. Sometimes it feels like I’m a broken mess of pieces, always searching for a way to fit them all together.

Eventually, I make my way to my bedroom, find a bottle of aspirin in my medicine cabinet, and wash it down with water cupped in my hands from the tap. Then I strip and fall into bed in my boxers. In moments, I pass into blessed oblivion.





CHAPTER 12


Surprisingly, I wake up feeling pretty good, physically and mentally. I shouldn’t have drank last night to shut off my brain. I could have handled it better. But it’s still an improvement over how I’ve done in the past. I’m moving in the right direction? I have a really big motivating factor, Evie. On my drive in to work, I pull out my phone and text her as I wait at a stoplight.

I had a great time with you last night. What are you doing today?

As I’m pulling into my spot in the garage, I hear my phone ding twice.

I had a really good time too. :) Working both jobs. Won't be home until late.

btw, know anything about the lock repair on the front door of my building??

I grab my suit jacket and briefcase, and type back as I’m heading to the elevator.

I may have called and threatened your landlord with legal action if he didn't do door repair. Glad he stepped up. You should always feel safe.

My phone doesn’t ding again until I’m stepping out onto my floor. Does she not like me interfering with her landlord? Too bad. There’s no way I’m going to stand by now that I’m back and not make sure she’s safe.

Well, thanks. I appreciate it.

"Billy!" Christine greets. It’s her nickname for me. Once the rest of the board started calling me "The Kid," she told me she was going to put a badass spin on it and at least add "Billy" to it. "He was a cunning and deadly outlaw," she had whispered, making me laugh. "We’ll hear the tremor in their voices when they call you ‘The Kid’ and we’ll know why." Then she had whistled that Wild West Showdown tune and winked. Truthfully, I hadn’t really minded the nickname, though. "The Kid" is a helluva lot better than "Incompetent Idiot," plus I think it has more to do with age than leadership ability and so I live with it. They all show me respect in the boardroom and I know I’m gaining more of it by the day, even with Gwen’s father, Richard. I don’t want anything I don’t earn.

"Morning, Christine. How are you?" I ask, smiling.

"Great. The team is heading into the conference room right now. Coffee and bagels are already out. Your presentation is loaded on the laptop and the screen is down. Reports are at everyone’s places."

"Thanks, Christine. We’d all be worthless without you."

"Tell me something I don’t already know," she snorts and I grin at her.

I drop my stuff off in my office and shoot Evie a text in reply to her thanks.

Anything for you. Headed in to a meeting. Have a good day/night at work. Can I call you tomorrow?