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And considering that championship was the one thing I lived for, there was no way in hell I was going to miss out.
“I’d say your chances of being traded is at about fifty percent right now,” Iain finally said, prompting me to let go of a long, whooshing breath. “But I don’t think it’s impossible for you to flip their decision. You just need to show them some drastic changes as soon as possible. Aside from keeping the temper in check, my suggestion would be to go cold turkey on the late nights and partying. It’s May now and the trade deadline is July thirty-first. That means you have three months at most to convince the front office that you’re a changed man, and that you’ve settled down.”
“Great. And I’m guessing you want me to start tonight by drinking Shirley Temples and going home by midnight,” I said as we pulled up to Boulevardier. Iain actually offered a laugh as he climbed out of the car.
“Before midnight would be ideal,” he said as I followed him out. “If you can manage to do that and act like a civilized human being tonight, then we might very well be able to save your job in New York.”
3
DREW
Three cocktails and a Prosecco later, I found myself returning a bright smile to the bartender from across the room and giving a happy thumbs up after he mouthed, “You good?” I even mouthed back “thank you” for the firm no he gave me during my last visit, when I approached the bar and asked if I could please just check my text messages.
I couldn’t be mad considering it was exactly what I’d asked for. I’d held this man to a promise, he was doing his job, and this whole thing would’ve been considered a perfectly pleasant and successful exchange if I weren’t in fact a giant, conniving bullshitter who was on her way to the terrace so she could talk on a stranger’s borrowed phone without Mr. Bartender ruining her fun.
And by fun, of course, I meant the opposite of that because the second I disappeared onto the terrace and out of the bartender’s sight, I let my breezy gal act fade into oblivion and turned into a cheerless mess again. My bleary eyes scanned the deck for a quiet corner, my hands already sweaty and my heart beating out of my chest because I was really about to do it.
I was about to talk to Mike.
And not just talk to him – I was going to say everything I’d held in last time for the sake of sounding “okay” and “not too emotional.” I was going to ask everything that was on my mind, and I was going to get all the answers I didn’t get the day he left me and packed the moving truck I booked with only his stuff. I was going to do it, damn it – I was going to get my closure.
That was at least what I told myself until I got his voicemail.
“Fuck,” I breathed just as I turned a corner to the empty, less scenic side of the terrace. I panicked as the automated voice began reciting his number then completely froze as I listened to that shrill beep and the deafening silence that followed.
Alright, go. Come on. Say something – anything!
“Um… hi.”
Damn.
This was already off to a bad start. Somehow, I hadn’t been as nervous for a live conversation with Mike. At least with that, I’d have his voice – someone to bounce my thoughts off of. But with this, it was like I’d just been thrust naked on a stage and asked to summarize my emotional turmoil in twenty seconds or less.
“Um.”
Another ‘um,’ Evie? I took another half-second to mentally berate myself before getting my shit somewhat together.
“Okay. Hey,” I restarted, clearing my throat. “So. I was calling tonight because I couldn’t stop thinking about… things. And all these questions I wanted to ask you. I know it sounds stupid, but I was thinking about Hillary’s cat that we were supposed to babysit in August,” I said, floating toward the balcony. I kept my voice passably casual but my knuckles were turning white as I gripped the cold steel of the railing. “And I know August is forever away, but then I remembered that we both consulted on her restaurant, and we’re supposed to go to her big opening next month,” I said steadily. Then with a pause, I added, “Together.”
And with that word, my voice cracked.
“Um…”
Oh, come on, Evie.
Thrusting a hand in my hair, I tried to collect myself. But as I gazed way down at the street below and spotted some pizzeria that merely reminded me of the place we had our first date, I lost my train of thought completely. My vision fogged, the tears came back, and boom.
I went off script.
“You know what, fuck it – my main thing right now is that I just miss you so much, Mike.”
Yep, that was definitely not what I was supposed to say. I was supposed to tackle all these legitimate questions and concerns, but now I was talking a mile a minute about a bunch of sad, mushy bullshit – like how I missed overhearing him call me wifey to his friends, and how I still leaned back in bed at night because I expected him to be there to hold me. I still put my monogrammed E mug next to his M mug so that it spelled the word “me” inside the cupboard, and by the way, did he want that mug back?
“I could mail it to the new apartment,” I offered breathlessly, my eyes shifting as I bit down on my thumbnail and searched myself for more conversation. “How is it, by the way? The apartment?”
What the hell, why are you asking him questions like he’s there?
“I mean I know it’s great. I’ve seen it,” I said hastily. I chose it. “I just wish I could see what you did with it,” I added with a sheepish laugh, remembering that amazing wall of windows that overlooked the East River. “The amount of sunlight that place gets is amazing. Your basil plant’s gonna get huge. I always thought it would be cool to put the dining table right by those big windows so we could just pick fresh basil off the stems during dinner,” I said before suddenly catching myself and practically choking on my own spit. “I mean – not ‘we’ like we’re still together ‘we,’ I just meant – ” Oh Lord, Evie. I touched my fingers to my mouth for a second to collect myself, but I was quickly realizing there was nothing left to collect. “Okay, I don’t know what I meant,” I confessed hastily, my heart beating fast. “I mean you said you wanted to get back together eventually, and in case it isn’t obvious, I want to get back together too, because… I honestly don’t even recognize my life without you in it, Mike. I don’t. I swear to God, it feels like when you’re not here, I don’t even know how to – ”
