Chapter 4
4
LINCOLN
T he first sip of beer goes down cold and effortlessly. It’s like instant relief that floods my veins and soothes the dull ache in my soul. Today has been a shit day, and I’m not much in the mood for company, but my buddies sent out a text to meet them for drinks.
They’re the only family I’ve got, aside from the real ones I was cursed with, so I try to make time for them whenever I can. Although Sawyer and Dean couldn’t make it tonight, so it’s just the four of us.
“What’s with the sour look?” Roman asks as he puts down his beer.
Roman owns a string of successful hotels around the world and is often out of town. I met him freshman year at Columbia University, as well as the rest of the gang.
I look over at Colton and Walker until I realize he’s talking to me.
“I have a sour look?” I question.
“More so than usual,” he replies. “What gives?”
I straighten my back and move my head to the left and then the right in an effort to relieve some of the mounting tension. “It’s work shit.”
“Gee, thanks for all the details,” Walker quips. “How about you elaborate?”
Walker is an attorney for a large firm in the city. He represents some powerful people nobody would want to mess with, me included.
“Why do you guys care so much? Work is always a pain in the ass,” I bite back.
“It’s called conversation,” Colton intervenes. “It’s literally the entire purpose of us meeting for drinks.”
Colton, out of the six of us, is the one I’m closest to. He is a doctor in oncology, and I admire his dedication to such an intensely vulnerable career.
Leave it to him to get me to talk.
“Fine, I’ll talk. But only to get you guys to leave me the fuck alone,” I say. “It’s just my assistant.”
Roman rolls his eyes. “Did she try to hit on you again?”
My muscles tense at his words. “My morning assistant did, but I fired her. I’m talking about my new assistant now.”
“You got a new assistant the same day you fired another one?” Walker asks in shock. “It’s like you go through them so quickly that they have them on reserve now.”
Colton and Roman laugh while I give him the death stare. They know it’s a sensitive subject for me. I care about my image and don’t want to be perceived as some creep who takes advantage of his employees. All it takes is one butthurt woman to decide to ruin my reputation after I reject her and send her packing.
“Aw, lighten up, man. We’re just messin’ with you.” Colton gives my arm a punch. “What’s bothering you about this new one? Is she already giving googly eyes on day one?”
“No, she’s been timid and shy. Totally opposite of my usual assistants, but just as annoying. There’s also something different about her. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Oh, and she made me late to my meeting today. When she got me, it was already a couple of minutes past the start time.”
Everybody winces. They know how much I loathe being late.
“I’m surprised you didn’t fire her on the spot for that.” Roman laughs.
“I probably would have if it wasn’t for Roy and Carson being in the meeting. They acted like it was no big deal since it was her first day.”
“Well, it was her first day,” Colton replies emphatically. “I would never fire someone for not having it all together on day one. There’s a learning curve with every job.”
“You’re such a perfectionist. You have to learn that everything doesn’t have to be just so in life. People are human, and we all make mistakes,” Walker adds.
Easy for him to say. He didn’t grow up with parents like mine. Perfection was mandatory. I learned firsthand what happened when you weren’t perfect. It was something that was so deeply ingrained in me that I don’t know how to escape it.
“Enough about my life. I came here to ease the tension, not add to it,” I reply sharply. “Let’s talk about something else. Like how Roman missed what would have been the game-winning basket the other night.”
I smile over my beer as I watch his eyes turn dark.
“Fuck you, man. I told you I had caught a glimpse of somebody I knew at the last second. It distracted me.”
“What the heck were you doing in the first place, looking away from the basket right before a shot?” Colton asks.
“I’m not talking about this anymore. Next time one of you guys fucks up, I’ll be sure to do the same to you,” he quips.
Some may think we have an odd relationship with each other. There’s a lot of teasing and jokes, but at the end of the day, we’d do anything for one another. Nobody messes with these guys and gets away with it, and I know they feel the same about me.
They are the only people I let see the real me. I don’t trust easily. The reasons are not something I like to talk about. Even these guys don’t know the full extent of what my upbringing was like—I’ll likely take that to the grave.
After a couple of hours, I call it quits and text my driver to take me home. The black car is parked and waiting for me the moment I walk out onto the busy New York street.
“Hello, Mr. Monroe,” my driver, George, greets me with a smile while holding open my door.
“George.” I nod my head at him and duck inside the vehicle.
I rest my head against the seat the moment the door shuts and close my eyes. Sleep has been elusive in the last couple of months. I feel jittery and restless when I lie down at night. It’s beginning to take its toll on me.
Right now, all I want is my bed, but I know as soon as I lay my head down on my pillow, sleep will not come easily.