15. Cole
Chapter 15
Cole
T wo weeks had passed in the blink of an eye with how much work I’d been doing on the new range of products. With a preliminary launch date in the spring and a ramp-up and push at the start of summer, we had a lot of shit to get done in the coming months.
And that meant less time for other things.
The revelation about Dana having a son had been in the back of my mind but I’d decided it wasn’t worth dwelling on or overthinking the weird feeling in my gut questioning the timing of it all. Yes, the diapers said up to four months, and the math added up to the approximate time of the incident between Dana and me. But I also knew that we weren’t anywhere close to exclusive and Lottie had said she wasn’t exactly shy when it came to sex. Lingering on possibilities wasn’t good for me, and besides, it was too far-fetched that it didn’t matter.
Instead of thinking about things that wouldn’t help me in the long run, I’d spent my time working and going to the gym, attended two more AA meetings, and cashed in on opportunities with Dana when they presented themselves. I would have preferred to take her out properly, but stolen glances as we passed each other at work and the occasional makeout session in my office were enough to keep me hooked on her.
In truth, I wasn’t sure anything would unhook me from her.
Every time I touched her I wanted more. But we’d held off, and although she’d been receptive to every move I made with her since our talk, a part of me wondered if our schedules not aligning was more on her than it was on me. But again, I couldn’t focus on that. I’d take what I could get for now and deal with the stress of everything else going on. That’s what Emily, my sponsor, had suggested, and I wanted to take as much of her advice as I reasonably could.
Everything except not pursuing things with Dana. That was one I wouldn’t budge on.
My nerves started to get to me as I stepped into the open space in the center of the brew house. I still wasn’t accustomed to handling these types of talks with my staff without a drink, and every single time I had to, I’d found myself more and more tempted. It was the location—anywhere else not surrounded by massive vats of alcohol and I would have been fine.
“Thank you all for coming,” I said, my voice booming over the group. Waitresses and cooks from the restaurant stood to my left, the brewing gang in the center, and to the right, the tour guides and bar staff. Behind them were the office workers, the ones making everything run behind the scenes. Somewhere smushed between the tour guides and the office staff, Dana’s head of deep brown hair poked out, her hazel eyes fixed on me. “I appreciate that many of you who weren’t scheduled for today still took time out of your lives to come in.”
Grumbles and stares were the only reply.
“In celebration of all of the work you’ve done toward our new range and ahead of the upcoming chaos of the summer, including spending six months under different management and adjusting incredibly, I have a gift for you all.”
The grumbles and whispers stopped. Only stares remained.
“Three weeks from today, we’ll be shutting down all operations for ten days apart from the absolute necessities, for which I’ve hired in. All of you will continue to be paid your normal salary for those ten days we’ll be shut down,” I explained. I clicked a button on the tiny remote I’d been given by IT and directed the group’s attention to the projector behind me. “Those of you who wish to spend those days doing what I have planned are welcome to join me in Costa Rica.”
And just like that, all hell broke loose.
Questions and murmurs poured at me from every angle, stunned looks on every face. “A company retreat?” someone asked, and I nodded.
“Paid for?” another questioned. I nodded again.
“Flights and everything?”
Another nod.
“Anyone who wishes to join will be paid for and accommodated,” I explained. The stares were beginning to bore into my skin, making me feel like instead of being covered in gazes, I was covered in spiders. Resisting the temptation to scratch at the nonexistent arachnids, I cleared my throat instead. “I can’t help you if you don’t have a passport, though. You’ll need to sort that out yourselves.”
“What about meals?”
“We’ll be staying at an all-inclusive resort,” I replied, plastering a smile on my face that I hoped would sell my excitement. In truth, I was happy to be doing this for them—they’d worked incredibly hard and it was barely a dent to my bank account to cover it. But I was also overworked and overstressed, so it was something I greatly looked forward to as well.
I found myself searching for Dana’s face in the crowd only to come up empty.
————
“You’re coming, right?”
Dana’s lips pressed together as she pulled the previously cake-covered spoon from her mouth, her lipstick not even budging. I’d finally gotten her out for dinner but still hadn’t received confirmation from her on whether or not she was coming to Costa Rica.
She sighed. “I want to,” she admitted. “But I haven’t quite worked out the details.”
“Baby. We leave in a week.”
She winced whenever I called her that. I’d noticed it a handful of times now, maybe I should stop. “That, right there, is the problem.”
“What?”
“The baby. Drew. I can’t just leave him with my sister for ten days, Cole. And I don’t think I’d trust the nanny to watch him for that long, either. I mean, what if something happens?” she babbled, her words nearly running into each other as she tried to emphasize them by waving the spoon around. I tried not to crack a grin, tried not to laugh at what she was saying. “I’d be an almost nine-hour flight away, and that’s if I can get on the first one out without any layovers. Drew’s never been away from me for that long?—”
“Dana,” I interrupted, wrapping my fingers around her wrist to keep her from flinging her spoon more. My lips twitched up as her brows knitted, a hint of irritation playing on that beautiful fucking face. “Drew’s invited. I never said he couldn’t come.”
“What?”
“Do you think for one second that I didn’t consider how that would work for you?” I continued. I plucked the spoon from her hand and buried it into her slice of cake before holding out the bite for her. Suspicious, she opened her mouth, letting me feed her. “I assumed Drew would be coming.”
“But everyone else isn’t bringing their kids,” she said around the mouthful of cake.
“You’re not everyone else.”
Her cheeks heated. “Because we’ve had sex?”
“Because I care about you.”
————
The plush rug beneath my feet did absolutely nothing to calm my racing mind. I didn’t know exactly when I’d gotten out of bed; one minute, I couldn’t sleep, the next, I was pacing. The moon hung low in the sky outside of my window, the metal surfaces on my balcony shining brightly in its reflection. Beyond that were the peaks, the stars, the tops of the trees, and the babbling brooks that would soon freeze over when the temperatures dropped. I swallowed.
I wanted a drink.
I was so close to eight months. So fucking close. I needed to remember that and I knew in my bones that I couldn’t jeopardize it. I’d removed every bit of alcohol from this place weeks ago. The kitchen alone hadn’t been enough. The wine cellar, full to the brim with aged fine wines, had been auctioned off locally with every cent of the proceeds going to recovery groups. I’d hired a team to sweep the house of any bottles I might have stashed in my drunken stupors. I’d removed temptation as much as I could.
And still, despite that, I craved.
Pressing my forehead to the glass doors of the balcony, I tried to concentrate on my breathing. More than anything, I needed someone to talk to, but it was nearing ten in the evening and I felt awful bothering anyone at this time.
Bobby should be awake, though .
It was like I blinked and then I was in front of his door, a deafening silence bleeding out from beneath it.
I tried not to panic at the loss of time. It was something I’d experienced a lot while I was drinking and more so when I’d first started to get sober. I’d go through the halls of rehab and end up in places I didn’t remember getting to. But it had been months since the last time it had happened.
I knocked on Bobby’s door and got nothing in reply. Hesitantly, I pushed it open and switched on the light.
The room was a fucking mess. Diet Coke cans littered the floor along with boxes of takeout and half-eaten bags of chips. Clothes were everywhere . And the bed, unmade and dirty, was empty.
I was happy he had a social life. But my god he needed to clean this up before he gave my house a rat problem.
I blinked again and I was in the kitchen, my phone ringing against my ear. I jumped at the realization that time had slipped again, and when I glanced down, my hands were shaking.
“Hello?”
Oh, thank fuck, I called my sponsor. “Em,” I said, the single syllable of her name cracking.
“Craving?”
“Yes,” I breathed. I wrapped my fingers around the handle of a drawer to steady them, my knuckles immediately turning white. “I’ve had water. I’ve tried sleeping, walking, watching TV. It won’t go away.”
“That’s okay, Cole. It happens,” Emily sighed. “Have you done the grounding techniques you’ve learned?”
“Yeah. And deep breathing. And changing my environment.” Instinctually, I pulled open the drawer, barely paying attention to the keys I clasped in my hand. “I think a drive might help.”
“Maybe try a walk outside instead?” Emily offered, her voice suddenly a bit more alert.
“There’s bears out here near me.”
“Do you not have a fence?”
“I do but you know damn well they can climb,” I chuckled, the tension in my body slowly starting to calm. “Honestly, just talking to someone is already making me feel better.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
“Do you get calls like this often?” I asked, and suddenly I was moving without realizing it.
I was at my front door before I knew it, slippers on and a light jacket around my shoulders. Emily was babbling on about some TV show she’d watched recently that she thought might be enough to distract me.
I blinked, and I was in my car, my phone in my pocket, the call ended, halfway down my driveway.
I blinked, and I was in the liquor store.
I blinked, and a bottle of Lagavulin was in my left hand as I stood three people back in line for the checkout.
I blinked, and it was bagged up.
My heart thundered in my chest as I stepped out the chiming door of the store. Little droplets of rain hit my forehead, just a drizzle. I stared at the brown bag in my hand, knowing that the freedom from what ached in my throat was just inside.
What the fuck had I done? How had I taken such a drastic turn from how solid I was hours ago at dinner with Dana?
Teeth chattering and hands beginning to shake violently, I fished my phone from my pocket, pulling up my contacts as quickly as I could. I didn’t know who to call; I’d already exhausted my opportunity with Em, Bobby was out doing god knows what, and Grayson had his daughter tonight. Lottie and Hunter were out at an event and outside of those options, there was only one decent one left.
My thumb hesitated over Dana’s name. If I called her, if I asked her for help, the facade would break. She’d know. Not to mention she had a four-month-old at home and was likely strapped for sleep to begin with.
But I was almost eight months sober. I was so close. And I… I was fucking proud of that. But I wasn’t strong enough on my own to deal with it and I was slipping, my mind was fogging, and I knew there was a chance I’d lose time again and wouldn’t come to until the morning, hungover, broken, and damaged.
I tapped on her name.
It only rang once.
“Cole?”
“I need help,” I said, the words breaking as my fingers spasmed, the bag slipping from my grip. The glass shattered as it slammed against the concrete, little shards of glass spraying out the top and the scent of slaved-over whiskey filling the air. “Please. I’m sorry.”
I heard shuffling over the phone before she spoke again. “Where are you?” Keys jingled, and a few words were spoken to someone else, something that sounded like, watch Drew, I need to go. I breathed in shakily as I realized that she was coming. “Cole?”
“Flagstaff Spirits,” I trembled. I wasn’t far from her home. I could just go to her?—
“I’m on my way.”