Page 50 of Liberating Bells
“That’s better. Drunk is not a good look on you, Ry. Let’s go, I’m driving.” She grabs her purse and struts out the door.
Josie looks like a million bucks. She must have packed new clothes to change into, ’cause I vaguely remember her showing up to get me in pajama pants. She’s dressed to impress today in a black pencil skirt and a red blouse, and her hair’s pulled into a bun on the top of her head. The red of her shirt contrasts with her olive skin perfectly. Red is really her color.
I glance down at the outfit Josie chose for me and am immensely grateful that I have her as a friend. If it were up to me, I probably would have slept straight through this meeting.And as a startup company, that’s a mistake I can’t afford to make. Either that or I would have rolled out of bed and thrown on the first thing I could find. Josie seriously saved my ass.
When we’re in her car, she selects a playlist on her phone to listen to and then turns to me. “What do you want for breakfast, Boozy?”
I shrug and lean my head back against the headrest, letting my eyes fall closed. “Anything greasy will do it.”
“Mickey D’s, it is then.”
Josie goes through the drive-through, getting me a large black coffee, three McGriddles, and a hash brown. All she gets is a yogurt parfait and a café latte for herself. She’s obviously not nursing a hangover, so she doesn’t need the good stuff like I do.
Once we hit the highway, I unwrap my first sandwich and try not to groan at how good it tastes. I polish off the rest of my breakfast, taking sips of the scalding coffee periodically. The fast-food settles in my stomach, soaking up the reminder of my poor decisions the previous night.
Josie keeps her attention on driving, quietly humming along to her music. At some point, I think I doze off because I startle awake when Josie has to swerve the car to avoid someone who didn’t see her.
“Sorry,” she mutters, reaching for her coffee. “Idiot drivers.”
“It’s okay,” I say, relaxing back into my seat.
Josie is quiet for a beat, and then she drops the bomb. “Sooo, are we just not gonna talk about the elephant in the car?”
“What in the world are you talking about, Josie?”
“I’m talking,” she says, keeping her eyes on the road but tightening her grip on the steering wheel, “about you getting trashed at Siriano’s on a Wednesday night and calling me to come pick you up.”
I groan and thump my head back, squeezing my eyes shut. I’m embarrassed, to say the least. “It was nothing. Just a dumb mistake. You can drop it.”
“You’ve been making those mistakes a lot, Ry. You think I don’t know about the bottle of Jack you keep in your desk? Or thecases—as in plural—of beer I found last night in your fridge?”
“Why are you going through my desk?”
“I was looking for sticky notes!” she defends. “But that’s not the point. We need to talk about this, Ryan. Seriously.”
“Just drive, Josie. I don’t have time for this.”
“Actually, you do have time. We’ve still got atleastan hour and a half together in this car. So unless you want to jump out...we’re talking about this.”
I don’t respond, and she goes silent for a minute.
“Did you know my brother is an alcoholic?” she asks.
“Josie.”
“I’m just saying. I’ve seen the struggles, and I know what it can be like when you have a vice like that. You’re safe with me, Ry. I get it. But we need to address this before it becomes something more.”
“I’m fine,” I insist.
“No, you’re not.”
My chest feels tight. I stare out the window, stewing, keeping my eyes off of Josie, ashamed to look at her. In our silence, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and glimpse Izabel’s name scrolling across the top. My heart twists, remembering how disappointed I was when she didn’t show up last night. I clickdeclineand put it back into my pocket. Almost right away, it starts buzzing again. With a scowl, I pull it out of my pocket, clickingdecline,and then shut the thing off for good measure.
I definitely have no interest in hearing Izabel’s excuses this morning.
I hear Josie sigh, and then she goes for a different approach. “Look, Ryan, I know being around Izabel is hard, and I know that Mark really brings out the worst in you, but you are better than this.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I ask her, venom dripping from my tone. “I’m well aware that I turn into a love-sick fool around her. She’s all I can ever seem to think about, but even that’s not enough. She won’t leave him. I’m not enough for her to take that risk.”
