Page 47

And when the truth came out, because it always fucking did, she’d hate me.And I wouldn’t blame her.
I took another swig of whiskey, wanting to relish in the burn, but it wasn’t as sharp anymore.It was just dull, like everything else.
Sherry had been light in a world I always thought was dark.I stupidly dragged her into the shadows with me.The dark cloud that had followed me would soon engulf her, and I wasn’t sure there was anything I could do about it.
At some point, I fell asleep on the couch.I woke up hugging the bottle of whiskey like I was a child with my teddy bear.I unraveled my arms and placed the bottle on the coffee table.Pain shot through my brain like a sledgehammer.
“Fuck me,” I mumbled as I ran a hand over my face and tried to get my bearings.My gaze darted to the almost empty whiskey bottle, and I moaned.Now I was miserableandhungover.Fucking wonderful.
I dragged myself upright, the pain amplifying in my head, every muscle in my body protesting.The skin of my lips ripped as I parted them, my tongue practically glued to the roof of my mouth.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, questioning every life decision I’d made up to this moment.No wonder I was a complete fucking wreck.I didn’t know how to make good decisions.
The sound of my phone ringing echoed through the room, shooting a piercing pain through my brain.I fished for it in the couch cushions.My hand hit the hard plastic case, and I yanked it free from the cushions.Sherry’s name flashed on my screen.My heart practically leaped out of my chest and landed on the coffee table.Even after I rejected her, she was still calling me.Maybe there was a way I could fix this.I had no idea how, but I had to take the first step.
“Sher, hi,” I said.
“Where are you?”she demanded.
“Huh?”
“You told me you would have the chairs out of the warehouse and set up for the Garden Club’s Annual Brunch by this morning, so again, I have to ask… Where are you?They will be arriving in two hours, and I can’t set a damn thing up until the table and chairs are here.”
I ran a hand over my face, trying to will this damn hangover away.“I’m sorry.I completely forgot.”
She paused for a moment, then dropped into her distant, professional tone.“Well, we’re behind now.And in two hours, the garden ladies will be rolling in with their sun hats and opinions, so if there is any part of you that gives a damn about this job, I suggest you get here fast.”
“Sher—” I said, but she already hung up.
I did care about the job.More than I should.More than I ever planned to.But more than that… I cared about her.Guilt twisted in my gut as I stared at the phone.Not only was I screwing things up on a personal level, I was now blowing my chance at actually being useful to her.
I shoved off the couch and hurried to the bathroom.My reflection caught in the mirror, but I couldn’t even bring myself to look.I was pathetic—a lying jerk with one too many secrets.I threw some water on my face, brushed my teeth and headed out.
The throb in my head grew, but I ignored it.Sherry needed me to get one goddamn thing right, and I wasn’t going to let her down.
Breaking every traffic law imaginable, I was making good time until I hit the road the vineyard was on and got stuck behind a line of cars with Albert and his fucking tractor puttering down the road.I didn’t have time for this.
I white-knuckled the steering wheel, jaw tightening.Of all the days for Albert to take a scenic crawl with his antique death trap…
A row of SUVs sat in front of me; a flower decal with the words, “Honk if You Love Petunias,” mocked me.They better not be going to the vineyard.The event didn’t start for another hour and a half.I slammed my hand against the horn.It did nothing.
Albert’s baseball capped head bobbed in the distance like he didn’t have a care in the goddamn world.He lived for this shit.I learned it the hard way in October when he did this every morning to piss off all the tourists.He got some sick joy out of it.But I didn’t have time, and I wasn’t a tourist anymore.I was a part of this town.I knew Albert, and I knew if I didn’t take matters into my own hands, I’d be snail crawling until the daffodils were in bloom next spring.
I glanced at the narrow shoulder that was barely a shoulder, cut the wheel, and hit the gas.Dirt and gravel kicked up from my tires, and I’m pretty sure the garden lady in front flipped me off.As I passed Albert, I rolled the window down and leaned out.
“Some of us are in a rush.”
“You should plan better, Benjamin.”He saluted me and turned back in his seat, and with a shake of my head, I cut around him.
I gunned it down the final stretch of road, then whipped into the parking lot, bringing the car to a reasonable speed.My head still ached, mouth still dry, but I didn’t care.
I was late, but I made it.
Jumping out of the car, I hurried to the warehouse, determined to turn this day around.
Chapter 16
Sherry