Page 80 of Neat
Logan
A week off from work was too long when you were miserable.
Having Christmas off was a blessing. The distillery was the absolute last place I wanted to be after the party on Christmas Eve, and spending time with my family was exactly what I needed. But that night, when I’d gone home, I’d realized it was going to be a long, lonely week.
I was so used to filling all my time with Mallory, I didn’t know what to do with myself. My usual routine felt stale and suffocating now, like I was wasting time instead of making the most of it. I longed to reach out to her, to talk to her, to hold her — even with the sting of the burn she’d left fresh on my skin.
My brothers said leave her be, let her go.
My heart said go to her, hold on.
I sat in that tornado of thoughts all week, trying anything I could to keep my mind off things and failing. Working out didn’t help. Reading didn’t help. Cleaning didn’t help. Not even an all-day marathon of murder documentaries on Friday helped. The closest I’d come to feeling okay was Saturday night at The Black Hole with my brothers. Noah was back in town, and we’d taken him out to get his mind off leaving Ruby Grace. It’d been a night of Becker debauchery, and then we’d ordered pizza at one in the morning and sat up all night trying to crack the password on Dad’s hard drive.
It felt like old times, like when we were kids staying up too late during winter break, dreading the time when we’d go back to school.
And that’s what it felt like, dragging myself back through the distillery doors on Monday morning — New Year’s Eve. As much as I couldn’t wait to get back to work, to have something to keep my mind off everything, it was a catch twenty-two.
Because everything I wanted to forget about was inside those walls.
The sympathetic looks started in the lobby, with Lucy, and they followed me all the way back to my office. A few people stopped me on the way, shaking my hand and holding my shoulder in sincerity when they said they were sorry, that it was all bullshit, that they were on my side.
Like it mattered.
My stomach churned, even after I was in the solace of my office, because I knew at any moment, Mallory would be there, too. I didn’t know if she’d walk in and go straight into Mac’s office, start working on transitioning, or if she’d be doing tours with me — business as usual. I didn’t know if she’d try to apologize again, if I’d be able to listen.
If I’d be able to stay away.
Again, I found myself at war with what my brothers had said at Mom’s. They urged me to stay, to not give up on the career I’d built, the reputation I had, the legacy our father started that we were keeping alive.
But now that I was in my office, in a place that used to bring me hope, and fuel, and drive — I only found hopelessness.
I sighed, staring at my desk for far too long before I actually sat down at it. I pulled up my emails, whipped out my highlighters and schedule and clipboard, and tried to get into the groove just like I would have any other Monday morning. And twenty minutes in, I found myself slipping away, into work, out of my mind.
Until there was a knock at my door.
My stomach dropped, heart leaping into my throat as I stared at the door. I didn’t know who was on the other side of it, only that if it was the person I thought it was, I wasn’t ready.
But I had no choice.
“Come in,” I croaked out, keeping my eyes on my schedule and pretending it needed my full attention. I started highlighting things that didn’t need to be highlighted, just so I wouldn’t have to look up.
“A word, Becker?”
My head popped up at the sound of Mac’s voice, and now he was playing the same game I had been, looking at his clipboard like he was on a tight schedule and I was just a stop along the way.
“Yes, sir. Of course. Do you want me in your office?”
“No, this is fine,” he said, closing the door behind him. He sat his clipboard on my desk, taking the seat opposite me. For a long while, he just looked at me — as if he were truly seeing me for the first time since I’d worked there. Then, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want to apologize for what happened at the Christmas party. None of us were expecting that, least of all me, but when my brother makes up his mind… well…” He shrugged, folding his hands in his lap. “I guess I don’t need to tell you that there’s no arguing with him.”
I didn’t answer. I had nothing to say.
“Anyway, I came in here today to tell you that we spoke this weekend,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. Mac was one of those men who was easy to read. He always had been. I knew when he was lying, because he could never look you in the eye when he did, and he fidgeted uncontrollably. “I argued that Mallory wasn’t ready for a leadership position, and after much convincing, he agreed. So, we’re offering the management role to you.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re… what?”
“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” he said, cocking a brow. “I think everyone in this town knows the position is rightfully yours.”
I swallowed. “But, they announced at the party that the position was Mallory’s.”
