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Just as the grand finale of fireworks lit up the Parisian sky, he thrust into me, grabbed onto my hips and filled me with his cum. I writhed alongside him, our moans melting together and drowned out by the New Year's festivities.
He held me like that and the four of us watched the ending of the show together before the other two men curled up beside me in bed, our bodies entangled in ways I wasn’t even sure was possible.
This was it. The last time we could be together. Even though I was still coming down from the high, part of me was also sad. It was a bittersweet moment, even if we had literally gone out with a bang. I couldn’t sleep, but none of us spoke. I think that we all knew there wasn’t much left to say.
33
Jackson
TWO MONTHS LATER…
“Hey Harper,” I began, leaving a voice message. “I was thinking I might travel to New York at some point and thought we could grab a drink. Call me back when you get this.”
I hung up and stared at my computer screen with a sigh. I needed to get this draft opinion finished before the end of the day, and I had already wasted too much time. This job, a dream for me all my life, was a lot more draining than I thought it would be. I had wanted to be a lawyer to impress my father, and without him around, well, who was I fooling? I hated the work.
I drank from the coffee mug at my desk, but the liquid burned my throat. The satisfying burn of a good whiskey.
I hadn’t heard from my brothers in a bit. We hardly talked after we left Paris after New Year’s. Harper and I had a few conversations, but she had made it clear that we were to keep a distance. What we had back in France was over.
I finished my mug and reached for the bottle I kept hidden in the lower drawer of my desk. I quickly poured the whiskey into the mug then returned it to its hiding place. If I had to finish this, I needed something to keep me going or else I would be bored out of my fucking mind.
My phone buzzed and I hoped it was Harper. I needed to hear her voice.
It was Aiden.
I answered. “Hey, man,” I said, my words slurring even though I tried to sound as sober as possible. “What’s up?”
“Are you drinking at work, Jackson?”
“Just a little whiskey. All the partners have a bar in their office, it’s hardly frowned upon in this possession.” I quickly realized my mistaken word choice and corrected myself. “Er, profession, I mean.”
Aiden was quiet for a long time before he spoke again.
“I was checking in to see if you heard anything about the paperwork we filed last Tuesday?”
“Shit,” I stammered, knocking the mug over as I dug into the pile of papers on my desk. I found the envelope with Aiden’s name and case number on it and flinched. We were filing a civil suit against Aiden’s former boss and there was a deadline to file the paperwork for last Tuesday. Problem was, it was still sitting on my desk.
“That doesn’t sound good…”
“Sorry, Aiden. I will contact the judge and—”
“You didn’t submit the paperwork, did you?” He let out a sigh.
“I thought I had, but it’s still on my desk. I had given it to an intern to mail out, but I don’t know what happened.”
I looked at the mess before me. It was clear what happened. I hadn’t put it in the outbox for the intern to mail, it got lost in the paperwork strewn all over my desk.
What’s happening to you, Jackson. This isn’t like you.
I used to be so good at my job. I was organized, never missed a deadline. I used to love my job, too. My eyes fell on the mug, and I knew that the answer to my question laid inside it.
But I couldn’t tell that to Aiden. I couldn’t tell anyone about my drinking. As soon as I did, they would lecture me on how I needed to get help, or they’d tell me that I was turning out like Dad. At least Dad was able to build a successful career before losing himself to alcohol. I wasn’t even thirty yet and already on the downward spiral, or at least that’s what Kat had said to me last time we talked. She was always happy to remind me that I was a failure.
“Jackson, what the fuck, man?” Aiden had been shouting on the other end of the line, and I realized I hadn’t listened to a word of it. “What are we going to do now? We spent all this time and money to build this case, and I put my faith in you—”
“I can fix this,” I said. I wasn’t sure how, but I had connections. I knew I could talk to the partners of the firm, we could figure something out. “There’s no way missing one deadline is going to throw out the entire case.”
“You’d better be right.”
