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"Then why not a beer?"
"I don’t drink."
Huh?
I actually turned to look over at him, and his serious, bland expression actually confirmed what he was saying. "Seriously? You don’t drink?"
"As surprising as that is for you, it's true. I don’t drink."
I actually laughed. "That's a fucking bluff. You're telling me you've never drank before?!"
"Never said that," he reasoned. "You merely assumed that."
"Okay, so you used to drink in the past and you don’t anymore?" I concluded. "Why? You're telling me you function in this world of cruel malicious irony without a sip of hard whisky? Or a green apple Smirnoff, for all I care?" I shook my head in horror at the thought. "Life would be over if I lived like that."
"I'm not good to be around when I’m drunk," he revealed.
"Like how you're not good to be around like ever?"
He gave me a look as I got him a chilled Fiji water and walked over to his side of the island and offered it to him. He actually thanked me and accepted the offered drink, twisting the lid with ease and downing two-thirds of the water, which made me frown.
"Want another one?"
He seemed to hesitate, which answered my question. I walked back and got him another. He seemed a little relieved by the second bottle, the slight tension in his shoulders leaving almost instantly.
What's that all about?
"Back to the question," I reminded as he finished his first bottle of water. "Is it simply because you're not in control?"
"A number of things," he muttered but carried on. "I don’t think straight, and impulsive reactions are never a good thing. As an Alpha, you have to be prepared for random blows and changes in your plans. Nothing I can do about it, but being drunk or even tipsy doesn't aid me in doing my job."
"But you're supposed to drink so that you can relax for a moment and not allow your work, job, and responsibilities take away from that time of calm," I reasoned. "It doesn't have to be negative."
"You're right, but it's just better this way," he whispered. "My father was an alcoholic."
That was unexpected, and I paused in drinking my beer to look at him.
"He's still alive?"
"Sadly," he huffed. "Fucker is living on borrowed time. Still drinking the world away to shut up the demons in his head that remind him of what a dick he was to everyone around him. He’s a perfectionist gone wrong, I guess."
He took the second water bottle and twisted the cap while staring at the brand design in front. "Addicted to committing sins until it went to his head and left a big, bleeding wound up there that he drowns in alcohol to force him to forget so he can sleep the remaining years away."
"At least he's not a fucker like Roberto," I quietly admitted. "No matter what amount of alcohol he ingests, it doesn't make him forget he's a dick. He only takes pride in it."
"He'll drink more now that he's not on the winning side," Dimitris muttered. "We have another mega-deal coming up that's getting world recognition."
"World recognition?"
"It's a deal that is basically the anomaly of our time. It's too good to be true and many businesses are doing anything they can to secure that big of a bag," he revealed.
"Including you?" I inquired.
"We're not sure we qualify," he admitted.
"Why is that?"
"We need a woman on the team," he disclosed. "This deal is about bringing a brand new structure to the entire organization. Their previous structure was outdated, very male dominant, and the benefits for women were shit. I believe they're trying to get female investors, but many of them don’t want to invest in the company if there isn't a woman in one of the executive positions."
