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Just closed Becky who doesn’t tell me what is really going on in her mind. Usually, I’m the one leaving women in my apartment and telling them to help themselves to coffee. This is new. And I have a small taste of how shitty I make women feel.
I notice the filter machine is already full and still turned on to keep the coffee warm. She at least thought to make me coffee.
I hunt around the cupboards for a mug. Only now do I catch sight of the clock on the wall above the stove.
‘Fuck!’
I run back to the bedroom and throw on my clothes.
I’m hopping out of the apartment, trying to put on my boots and get my arms into my jacket at the same time. A total waste of energy and time. I eventually stop and do both in the stairwell.
‘It’s ten fucking a.m., Becky!’ I curse at the roof.
I reach for my cell as I run down the stairs, forgetting that I was in such a rush to get here last night that I left it charging. Damn it, I can’t even go straight to the office.
I climb into a cab, only to sit in Manhattan’s infuriating traffic: row upon row of yellow cabs and pedestrians running between them.
‘Shit and balls!’
I need to get a message to Sarah and tell her to cancel anything I have on my calendar this morning. Without my phone, I don’t even have a clue what that might be.
It’s nearly eleven by the time I get to my apartment. Half the working day is done. Inside, I head straight for my phone.
The thing is off the charts with messages, emails and missed calls. I hit dial for Sarah.
‘Sarah, it’s me.’
‘Drew, thank God. Where are you?’
‘Becky didn’t put an alarm on. She just… argh, never mind.’
‘Whoa! Hold up. You slept with Becky?’
‘Sarah, not now. I need to shower and get to the office. Send the car for me.’
‘Dre—’
I have half a mind to call Becky and scream at her for leaving me in bed without an alarm. How damned irresponsible could she be?
Deciding against wasting yet more of my working day, I shower, shave, pull on a suit, and thank the lord my driver is waiting down on the street.
* * *
As I round the corner toward my office, I’m accosted by the associate whose screw-up made me late for the ferry on Friday night. Comparatively, that was a small timing issue, but he’s an associate, and I shouldn’t be caused to be late because he’s dog crap. I still him with a glare that tells him exactly where he can shove his apology.
‘Nicky, Drew doesn’t have time for this today, okay.’ Sarah ushers him away with a patronizing brush of her hand, then falls into stride with me. ‘You have a problem.’
‘You know, some days, Sarah, could you open with something else?’
‘Okay.’ She leans toward my ear. ‘How about this… You slept with Becky?’
I stop on the spot and take the cardboard coffee cup she’s holding.
‘Is this for me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thanks.’ We move again, this time with my first caffeine hit of the morning seeping into my bloodstream. Small mercies.
