Chapter 12

Chapter 12

“I’m glad you agreed to come back today so we could pick up where we left off when we ran out of time yesterday. How was your evening?” Dr. Halpern asked.

“I didn’t drink anything or do anything stupid, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m guessing you have to include that in your weekly report to my grandfather?”

Actually, I suppose stupidity was in the eye of the beholder. Some people might think sleeping with the enemy was stupid, but I happened to think what was going on between Sophia and me was pretty damn phenomenal.

“The reports I send your grandfather each week focus on your progress and the stability of your mental health. I know you signed a waiver of confidentiality, but that waiver is very limiting. You should know that I cannot legally, and I do not, provide any details of what we talk about. I simply report whether you’re continuing to make progress, and whether I believe your emotional state puts you at risk for relapse.”

I actually hadn’t known that. I’d signed whatever legal mumbo jumbo my grandfather had put in front of me without reading it the day he’d agreed to give me another chance. For all I knew, he was entitled to keep my firstborn. I’d spent more time deliberating over whether I was willing to take weekly piss tests than whether I was willing to see a shrink. When I’d agreed to my grandfather’s conditions to get my job back, I’d thought this would be the easy part. Go tell some quack a load of bullshit each week, meet regularly with my sponsor, and hit up some AA meetings. I’d be back in grandfather’s good graces in no time. I didn’t count on having the urge to actually talk to this woman.

“How has it been seeing Sophia every day at work? Last time we talked about her, I thought she might be a reminder of some difficult times in your life.”

If Sophia had reminded me of Caroline initially, that definitely wasn’t what I thought about when I saw her these days. In fact, it was nearly impossible to think of anything other than the sight of Sophia down on her knees in front of me last night. This morning, I’d nearly thrown myself into a diabetic coma with the amount of sugar I’d dumped into my coffee. Normally I put two sugar packets in, but this morning while I stalked her getting her coffee, I couldn’t stop remembering the sound she’d made with my cock down her throat. It was a cross between a hum and a moan, and every time I thought about it, my balls tightened. Even now, I had to discreetly adjust my slacks.

“Working with Sophia has proven to be…interesting.”

“Oh? How so?”

I looked over at the doc. “You really can’t repeat anything we discuss in these sessions to my grandfather?”

Dr. Halpern shook her head. “Nothing. I only relay your overall mental stability.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Well, Sophia and I…we’ve found a productive way to put the energy we create disliking each other to good use.”

Dr. Halpern jotted something in her notebook. I wondered if it might be fucking the enemy. When she was done, she folded her hands on her lap. “So you and Sophia have entered into a personal relationship?”

“Something like that.”

“Have you made her aware of your history?”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific there, Doc. What history are we talking about? Me sleeping with half the showgirls in Vegas? The abuse of alcohol? That my family is pretty much done with me unless I clean up my act? Or do you mean that I have babysitters who report back to my grandfather each week?”

I liked that Dr. Halpern rarely reacted—not even to my sarcastic questions. Instead, she just responded with no judgment.

“I was referring to your struggle with alcohol.”

I shook my head. “No, that hasn’t come up.”

“Are you concerned it might be an issue for her, and that’s why you haven’t mentioned it?”

“It’s just not the type of relationship we have.”

“Well, many relationships start out as one thing and grow into something else. Sometimes when people wait too long to share something, there are hard feelings when it finally comes out. The person who was in the dark can feel an element of distrust.”

“Trust me, our relationship isn’t growing into anything more than it is.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s a nice girl—the kind who dates struggling playwrights, not recovering alcoholics who let down their family and can’t remember the names of half the women who’ve been in their bed.”

“When you say you let your family down, do you mean in a business sense, because your drinking interfered with your job? Or are you referring to Caroline?”

“All of it.”

Dr. Halpern picked up her trusty pad and jotted a few notes again.

“What if I wanted to see those?”

“My notes?”

I nodded. “You’re always writing, and it makes me curious.”

Dr. Halpern smiled. Again, she folded her hands on her lap. “You’re welcome to see my notes if it’s causing you stress to not know what I’m writing. But I’m not sure reading them will make it clear why I thought whatever I’ve written down was important. How about, if you’re curious, just ask me, and I’ll tell you what I wrote and explain why I wrote it.”

“Okay… What did you write down when I said I felt I’d let my family down?”

She looked down at her pad and then back up at me. “I wrote misplaced guilt over Caroline’s death. And the reason I wrote that is because what seems to be at the center of your mental health issues is your sister.”

I shook my head. “You’re wrong.”

“Meaning you don’t think some of your struggles deal with the death of your sister, Caroline?”

“Oh no. I didn’t mean that. Most definitely I struggle with my sister’s death. What I meant was you were wrong in writing down misplaced guilt. My guilt is exactly where it belongs.”

***

The hall lights in the executive office corridor were on a timer. After seven, sensors at various points would activate them only when motion was detected. Since I’d had a mostly unproductive afternoon, I decided to call it a night and go get something to eat at seven thirty. Closing up my office, I noticed the hall didn’t illuminate right away, and it was easy to see that all the office doors were either closed or the lights were off. So as I walked down toward the elevator, I assumed Sophia wasn’t in her office. But as I passed, I caught something in my peripheral vision that caused me to back up to her doorway.

“You’re still here?”

The lights in Sophia’s office flickered on. She must’ve been sitting so still that the motion sensors couldn’t detect her.

“Were you sleeping or something?”

Sophia’s eyes seemed to focus. “No, I guess I was lost in thought and didn’t even realize the lights had turned off.”

Yeah, I know the feeling.

I nodded. “I made some calls today and asked around about your contractor. Let’s just go with the Boltons.”

“Oh, great. I was going to ask you about that. Travis called me today to follow up.”

Hearing that the asshole had called her made me want to change my mind. “What time did he call?”

“I don’t know, maybe about eleven. Why?”

“Then why didn’t you ask me?”

Sophia’s lips puckered, while mine twitched to a grin. “Avoiding me again?”

“Just busy, Weston. Just once, can you not make something about you?”

“Sure, when I don’t think it actually is.”

Sophia rolled her eyes. “Is it difficult to carry around an ego that size? It must get heavy.”

I laughed. Tilting my head toward the elevator panel, I said, “I was going to go downstairs to get something to eat. Did you have dinner yet?”

Sophia shook her head.

“Want to join me?”

She nibbled on that pouty bottom lip. “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, Fifi. Two people who work together can share a meal. If it makes you feel any better, we can discuss business while we eat. I spoke to the union again today and can fill you in.”

She hesitated, but eventually sighed. “Okay.”

I shook my head. “Such a sacrifice. You’ll probably get into heaven with how good you are to me.”

Sophia tried to hide her smirk, but failed. “I need to run to the ladies’ room first. I’ll meet you down there.”

“Alright. If you want to avoid being alone with me in the elevator, I can understand that.” I winked. “I’ll get us a table downstairs at Prime.”

***

“So do you miss London?” I asked, picking up my water. The waiter had dropped off the wine menu, and Sophia was busy perusing it.

She looked up and sighed. “I do, in a lot of ways. But in ways I didn’t expect, I also don’t miss it. How about you? Do you miss Vegas?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. Me and Vegas didn’t mix well.”

Sophia laughed. “Not even the nonstop parties? I know New York is the city that never sleeps, but it’s different than Las Vegas. Maybe it’s because I’ve only ever spent time in the touristy areas, but everyone in Vegas seems to be on vacation and having a great time. Whereas here, people walk around in suits to go to work.”

I ran my finger along the condensation of my glass. “Especially the parties.”

Sophia looked down at the wine list again and offered it to me. “Do you want to share a bottle?”

I hesitated, but our eyes caught, and somehow the truth tumbled out of my mouth. “I’m an alcoholic, and I’m in recovery.”

Sophia’s eyebrows jumped. “Oh! Wow. I’m so sorry for asking. I had no idea.”

“It’s fine. No need to apologize. And order your wine. Don’t not indulge because of me. I’m good with sitting with someone who’s having a drink and not having one.”

She looked uncertain. “Are you sure? I don’t need to have one.”

Just then, the waiter walked over. “Can I get you something to drink or a glass of wine to start?”

I looked to Sophia, and she seemed torn. So I took the menu from her hands and handed it back to the waiter. “She’ll have a glass of the 2015 Merryvale merlot, and I’ll have a seltzer with lemon, please.”

He nodded. “Very well. I’ll give you a few more minutes to look at the dinner menu.”

After he walked away, Sophia was still looking at me.

“It’s fine, really. Stop thinking you’re going to cause me to relapse or something.”

She smiled. “You’re giving me too much credit. I wasn’t worried about your sobriety at all. I was actually wondering how you knew which wine I liked?”

“You left a half-full bottle in your room when you moved up to the suite.”

She nodded. “That reminds me, you never did say why you moved into my room when I asked the other day.”

I smirked. “You’re right, I didn’t.”

She chuckled. “Seriously, was something wrong with your room?”

“No. My room was just fine.”

“Was it too noisy?”

“Nope. It was pretty peaceful.”

“So why would you move, then?”

“It’s going to drive you nuts if I don’t tell you, isn’t it? Sort of like why you followed me the other day. You’re a little on the nosy side, aren’t you, Fifi?”

She squinted. “And you’re a little on the annoying side. So spill it. Why did you move?”

My eyes dropped to her lips for a few heartbeats before returning to meet her gaze. “I figured it would smell like you.”

Sophia sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s why you told them not to make up the room?”

I leaned toward her. “The sheets still smell like you. I like to imagine that you laid in them completely naked with your fingers inside yourself.”

Sophia’s face flushed. Her lips parted, and her breathing was a little faster and a lot shallower. The look was so fucking sexy. It made my mind race, and I wondered if she would stop me if I slipped my hand beneath the table and fingered her.

Lucky for both of us, the waiter returned. Oblivious to the tension, he set down Sophia’s wine and my drink. “So have you decided? Anything jump out at you that whets your appetite, or would you like to hear the specials?”

My eyes slanted to meet Sophia’s. “Oh my appetite is whet, alright.”

There was a sparkle in her eye, but she cleared her throat and folded her hands. “Actually, I’d like to hear the specials.”

The waiter droned on for a few minutes…some fish…some Japanese beef…some fancy names to justify the lofty price tag. But basically whatever he said went in one ear and out my other. My brain was too busy to catch words as I imagined Sophia trying to keep a straight face while my fingers moved inside her and the waiter stood there talking. At some point, the masculine voice stopped and a higher-pitched one started, and then there was silence. It took a few seconds to realize both Sophia and the waiter were looking at me.

“Umm… I’ll take the same thing she’s having.”

The waiter nodded. “Very good, sir.”

After he disappeared, Sophia lifted her wine glass to her lips, hiding a smirk. “You have no idea what you just ordered, do you?”

I shook my head. “Not a damn clue.”

A few more interruptions followed. The busboy brought bread, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil, and the restaurant manager walked over to introduce himself. Everyone at the hotel recognized us now. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately for Sophia—the moment had fizzled by the time we were alone again. And even if it hadn’t, the direction Sophia took the conversation certainly would have killed it.

“Can I ask how long you’ve been in recovery?”

“Fourteen months.”

She nodded. “Good for you. I honestly had no idea. And here I thought our families did such a good job tracking all the gossip on each other.”

“That’s only true of the stuff they want people to know. But we all bury the things that might blemish the family name too much.” I took the lemon off the side of my glass and squeezed it into my seltzer. “As far as the world knows, your mother divorced your father in an amicable split. If we hadn’t spent that night together after the prom, I wouldn’t have even known he’d left you guys.”

Sophia tilted her head and studied me for a moment. “You never mentioned what I told you that night to anyone in your family, did you? I don’t think I realized until this moment that you could have leaked the truth as gossip. I’m sure your father or grandfather would have shared it if you’d mentioned it to them.”

I sipped my seltzer. “You told me that while we were lying in your bed. Give me a little more credit than that.”

Sophia looked away but nodded. “So…the psychiatrist you go to, is that part of your recovery?”

I nodded. “It’s part of my grandfather’s recovery plan for me, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I want to keep my job, I have to do what he says. Fourteen months ago, I wound up in the emergency room after nearly drinking myself to death. I did thirty days in rehab to dry out. During that time, my father and grandfather personally stepped in to take over the properties I ran. Las Vegas hotels have to be watched like a hawk. You tend to get a lot of gamblers with money problems as employees, and the theft and embezzlement can run rampant if no one’s minding the store.”

I shook my head. “They had to clean house while I was gone. I’d been too wasted most of the time to notice people stealing right under my nose. A woman I’d been sleeping with tried to blackmail my family with videos of me doing stupid shit, like taking a piss in the hotel’s fountain. It wasn’t pretty. The day I got out of rehab, my grandfather gave me an ultimatum: ‘Do exactly what I say or you’re on your own.’ Psychiatrist, AA meetings, random piss testing—you name it. I’m a puppet, and he holds the strings.”

“Wow. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure if I spiraled out of control and wound up in the emergency room, my father would hang up on the call and never even come.”

I forced a smile. But really, her father pissed me off more than my own family did. At least mine had reason to treat me like dirt. I was a fuckup.

The waiter showed up with our food, and I was glad to move on from this conversation. I cut into my steak and steered things in an entirely different direction. “So, have you heard from the playwright since he and I had a nice chat?”

“He sent me a text, basically saying I had a lot of nerve letting another man answer my phone. I blocked him from calling or texting after that.”

I smiled. “Good for you.”

“What about you? Any disastrous relationships since we parted ways prom night?”

“I think those are the only kind I’ve had over the last twelve years.”

“No serious girlfriend at all?”

“There was one. Brooke. We were together for a little over a year.”

Sophia wiped her mouth with a napkin. “What happened there?”

“I fucked it up. We got together a few months before Caroline died five years ago. I spun out of control after that. Eventually, she didn’t want to put up with my crap anymore.” I shrugged. “I don’t blame her.”

I saw sympathy in Sophia’s eyes and hated it. I guess I hadn’t steered us in the right direction after all. “Not to change from the happy topics we’ve been discussing, but I’m down to two issues with the union—number of sick days and the quota for how many rooms the cleaning crew are required to clean per shift.”

“Oh, that’s great. Anything I can do to help?”

“I have a sit-down scheduled for the end of this week.” I debated how to handle that. “If you’d like to join me, you’re welcome.”

Sophia smiled. “I’d like that. Oh, also, I have a friend coming in from London. Scarlett is staying here. She arrives this Friday, so your mention of the union meeting reminded me. If you see a woman with bright red lipstick that matches the bottoms of her shoes and looks like she stepped out of a Vogue magazine, that would be her.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Oh, she is.” Sophia lifted her glass and tilted it toward me. “You know, now that I think about it, in a way, she’s sort of the female equivalent of you.”

“How so?”

“She’s arrogant and confident. The sea kind of parts when she walks into a room.”

I perked a brow. “You better watch it there, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

Sophia shook her head. “Let’s not go crazy. But since it seems like you’re in a pretty good mood, would it be okay if I kept the suite a few days longer than my week? At least until Scarlett leaves? Then we can switch, and you can keep it for as long as I did. Scarlett and I like to sit around and talk late at night, so it would be nice to have the living room while she’s in town.”

“No problem. I wasn’t planning on making you alternate with me anyway.”

“You weren’t?”

I shook my head. “I never even requested an upgrade when I checked in. I just said that to screw with you.”

Sophia’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. You’re such a jerk.”

I chuckled. “You say that like you’re surprised. But you can’t honestly tell me that’s news to you.”

“No, definitely not. But thanks for coming clean and letting me keep the suite while Scarlett is here anyway.”

After dinner, we walked to the elevator bank together. I kept my distance on the other side of the car and shoved my hands into my pants pockets. We’d had a nice evening. It was the first time I felt like Sophia had let her guard down. So as much as I wanted to back her up against the elevator wall and push the emergency stop button, she seemed vulnerable in a way that made it feel wrong to go there.

At the eighth floor, I hesitated as I got out—especially when I looked over at Sophia and could have sworn she looked a little disappointed about how our evening was ending. I had to force one foot in front of the other to make myself get off the damn elevator.

Looking back, I caught her eyes one last time. “Sweet dreams, Fifi.”

She shook her head. “Goodnight, Weston.”