Slide (Black Addiction #1)

by T Gephart

  ***

  “Hi, sweetie.” My mother slid into the booth opposite me. I’d been waiting thirty minutes, not that being late was anything new for her. I guess I should be glad she showed up at all, her maternal bond nonexistent.

  “Hi.” My fingers twisted nervously under the table as I watched the woman I barely knew open the menu in front of me. “I’m glad you came. I know you’re busy.” My voice did little to hide my irritation.

  “Is that sass I detect in your voice?” She didn’t miss the sarcasm. “I’m not sure why you think it’s okay to speak to your mother like that.”

  Right. My mother. There seemed to be some confusion as to what this term actually meant, a dictionary was something she’d obviously packed away with her nurturing side. Both of them collecting dust.

  “I just thought we should talk. It’s been awhile, and with everything that has happened . . . I mean. We should talk, right?” Talking was the least we should be doing given the latest developments.

  “Look, Alison.” The pretense of concern took little more than seconds to fracture. “If this is about your father, I really don’t know what to tell you. It’s easy for you to stand there and judge me, but I was young. I could have had an abortion but I didn’t. You should be thanking me for that.”

  Wow.

  And my reason for why our contact was limited to a few phone conversations a year became immediately evident. No wonder I had been a complete basket case. When someone asks you to thank them for your existence, it doesn’t set you up for great things.

  Not sure why it had taken me so long to realize, but I was nothing like my mother. It wasn’t because I didn’t get knocked up straight out of high school, or because I had a college education. No, the reason was because I wasn’t a self-absorbed child living in an adult’s body. I was far from perfect, but I had more compassion and ownership over my shortcomings in my little finger than the woman in front of me had in her whole body.

  I didn’t need to keep running away from my past. I had been a mile away this whole time.

  My eyes were well and truly open. And for the first time ever I knew exactly what I needed to do. I didn’t need her approval. Or anyone else’s for that matter. I had survived in spite of her. In spite of all of it.

  “Where are you going?” She grabbed at my arm as I stood up and tried to leave. “Why did you drag me all the way down here if you were just going to leave?”

  Her annoyance had once been the badge of my shame, my desire to please her winning out over my own self-preservation. But as I watched her eyebrows knit in their usual disappointment, I didn’t feel a thing. This wasn’t up to me to fix.

  “Because I thought for me to move forward, I needed resolution. I thought I needed to work this out.” I shook off her hand as my heart thumped loudly in my chest. “But I now realized that I can move forward just by walking away. Thank you, mother. Thanks for not having the abortion.”

  I left her speechless as I walked away. A genuine smile slowly formed on my lips as my feet carried me further from the table and finally out the door. Rusty had once told me I’d deserved better. He was right and I owed it to both of us to make sure that’s exactly what I got.

  The encounter might have left me shattered a few months ago but now I was energized. I felt stronger than I’d ever been, and ready for my second chance.

  ***

  In some crazy act of God, I had been given another shot at the interview. And it couldn’t have come at a better time. I was going in all guns blazing, ready to wow Ashlyn and whoever else was in that room. I needed this job. Not because my bank account was currently running on vapors and I was living on my best friend’s couch, but because I was ready to succeed at something again. I was done playing it safe and I was ready to show that I still had some fight left in me. A job would be the first step of many. Steps I would be probably taking alone from here on out. Either way, I wasn’t scared.

  Ashlyn welcomed me into her plush minimalist office. Her office supplies neatly aligned and color coordinated. I immediately liked her. The importance of desk order was so often overlooked, so it was good to see someone hadn’t abandoned the practice.

  “So, Alison, we’re going to do this a little differently.” She sat down in her luxurious office chair behind her huge wooden desk. “I’ve read your resume thoroughly and it’s pretty impressive. But what I want to hear about is what you aren’t good at. Your weakness.” Her fingers tented in front of her as she waited for my response.

  Um. What?

  Wasn’t the point of an interview to sell your virtues, not advertise where you sucked? Surely this had to be a trick question, maybe it was to see if I crumbled under the pressure or would answer evasively? No one wanted to hear about all the stuff I couldn’t do, least of all me. I had a whole resume of good stuff I could do. Why couldn’t we talk about that?

  “You want to know about my weakness?” I parroted the question in a stupid and obvious attempt at stalling. “I’m too organized . . .” A nervous laugh bubbled from my throat. Yep. Wasn’t fooling any one.

  “You know, I sucked at interviews.” Ashlyn leaned back into her chair, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I’d get so nervous I’d almost be sick. It’s pretty intimidating to be on and try and impress someone in just a short time.” A lock of her beautiful red hair dropped in front of her eyes.

  Well wasn’t that the truth. I think my sweat glands had multiplied from the time I’d walked in the door, and all of them were doing their best to make me look like I was having a shower from the inside out.

  “So tell me what you can’t do, because I’m looking for someone who can do more than just regurgitate their resume.” She waited patiently while I mentally ticked off my list of flaws and deficiencies. Ordinarily I would have asked her how much time she had, citing a pretty extensive list. But today, there was none of that as I relaxed into the chair. She wasn’t going to get a bumbling, unsure little girl. That’s not who I was anymore.

  “I’m not great with relinquishing control.” The first cab off the rank flew out of my mouth with very little effort. “In fact it used to scare the hell out of me. I’m getting better at it though, Rusty . . .” The mention of his name had me stumble slightly. “Rusty, worked with me on pushing out of my comfort zone. I may not like it but I now know I can do it.”

  Her brow rose at my response, her eyes curiously studying me. Perhaps she had wanted to ask more about my failed relationship, but she didn’t. It was either professional courtesy or she decided it was none of her business but thankfully she completely ignored the mention of his name and my momentary lack of focus. If it wouldn’t have been so inappropriate I would have reached across the desk and kissed her. The kindness in not asking what happened with Rusty, overwhelming me.

  “Tell me how. Explain how it was a challenge and why you think you have a handle on it.” She pushed a little further, not content with single sentence answer.

  “I’ve been a paralegal for a long time. Not because I wanted to, but because it was convenient. That’s how I’ve lived most of my life. I’m willing to take chances now. Try something new, even if it means uncharted territory.”

  “Sounds like a positive to me. What else do you struggle with?”

  With each new suggestion of things I did badly, I had an equally implemented solution to suggest. Whether it was achieved through my own personal growth or Rusty’s wax-on-wax-off method, I’d gained a heap of confidence. The weakness I’d once seen in myself had slowly melted away.

  “I guess I’m not afraid anymore,” I responded as to why I was looking for a career change. “Fear doesn’t have to paralyze me. There will always be things I can’t do but that doesn’t negate what I know I can do exceptionally well. I’m organized, I’m thorough, and my attention to detail is acute. It doesn’t matter if I’m filing legal briefs or dealing with recording contracts. The skill set is the same and I’m ready to challenge myself in a new industry.”

&
nbsp; Well look at that. I was not only no longer a doormat but I could stand tall and proud all on my own. And even though I knew I wasn’t perfect, I knew I’d work it out. It was a modern day renaissance, and I was my own Sistine Chapel celling.

  Ashlyn listened intently as I spoke. With my deficiencies laid bare before me, the follow-up questions didn’t seem at all nerve-racking like they usually were. I was able to answer with no hesitation. I’d never been so relaxed in an interview and even if I didn’t get the job, I’d be hitting the next interview out of the park.

  “Well, I think I’ve seen all I needed to see.” Ashlyn tapped the stack of papers in front of her on the desk before tossing them in the trash. “When can you start?”

  “Now?” I laughed, wondering if that meant I had the job. I didn’t want to assume but surely that was a good indication.

  “How about we start you off on Monday?” She laughed, either impressed by my enthusiasm or the tragedy I had nothing better to do. “I’ll email a contract for you to have a look at and we can discuss any issues Monday morning. I’ll forward your salary details as well.” Her smile slipped slightly. “There’s just one last question I need to ask you.”

  “What is it?” I asked, eager to get out the door and celebrate.

  “You know we represent Black Addiction and that includes Rusty Crawford. Your personal life is none of my business except when it will interfere with your work. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

  Of course, I knew Rusty and the band were represented by Metamorphous, which meant by virtue at some point I’d be working with him. I mean, I guessed I would be or at very least seeing him.

  “We broke up but neither of us hate each other.” At least I hoped we didn’t. I could really only speak for myself seeing as I really hadn’t asked, but I guess it was entirely plausible he wasn’t my biggest fan. “It’s fine, we can work together with no issues,” I said for my benefit as much as hers.

  “Great, then there should be no problems. We’ll be launching their new album soon, lots of work that will need to be done.” She rose to her feet and adjusted her jacket. Code for the interview is over and you can leave now.

  “Thanks, I’m looking forward to it.” I followed suit and lifted myself out of my chair, extending my hand to say goodbye. “I really appreciate this.”

  “Let’s be clear about something, Alison. You got this job all by yourself. No one did you any favors. It was all you, so be proud of that.”

  I nodded as I made my way to the door scared that if I spoke I might burst into tears. I was proud. Proud that despite the odds, I wasn’t out for the count. And with a wordless goodbye, I closed the door behind me and let out a slow and steady breath. I was slowly clawing my way back.

  “That’s fantastic!” Renee pulled me into her arms as I told her my good news. Not sure if her joy was over my newly acquired employment or the fact my days on her couch were numbered. “We should celebrate. Crap. Um. I have a date tonight. Can we rain check?” Her scattered thoughts verbalized themselves as words as her brows furrowed in concern.

  “Yeah, of course we can rain check. I don’t start until Monday so we have plenty of time.” I smiled, a little disappointed that my night of celebrating would be spent solo. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Great, now tell me about your mom. How did that go?” She winced, assuming that because I hadn’t mentioned it, it probably hadn’t gone well.

  “You know what? It was fine.” I toed off my high heels and tossed my purse onto the coffee table. “I got what I needed and that’s all that matters.” A long breath pushed out from my lips. It had been a really long and emotional day.

  “Do you need me to cancel?” Renee’s face lit up in panic. “I can, if you need me. Do you need me? I can stay.” The words rushed out without a pause.

  “No, I don’t need you to stay. Go on your hot date. I’m done talking about my mother and we can celebrate my new job another time.” I sunk into the armchair where I’d probably be spending most of my night.

  “Alison. I can stay.”

  “Renee. I’m fine.” I gave her my best smile. “Don’t make me get up to push you out the door. My feet are killing me.”

  “I’m going to have my phone on the entire time. I don’t even care if it’s rude. If you need me, just message me.” She nodded before looking at her aforementioned phone. “He’s downstairs, I’d better go. Love ya. Message me.” The tail end of her sentence hung in the air as she disappeared through the doorway.

  Renee was my best friend but I really didn’t want her sitting home holding my hand. She also sucked at when it came to friend behavior. It wasn’t malicious; she just lacked that gene that most people had. It was part of the reason why we were such good friends in the first place. Neither of us needed to be with each other every single moment of the day and no one’s feelings were hurt. It worked.

  Not calling Rusty the minute I’d left Ashlyn’s office had been my biggest challenge. I scrolled through my phone contacts at least fifty times and hovered over his name. Each time I’d stopped myself from hitting the call button.

  As much as I wanted to speak to him, I felt I’d trapped us in a weird kind of limbo. It had been me who’d walked out and said I needed space. It wasn’t fair for me to call just to spread my good news. It was selfish and one-sided. What if he didn’t want to hear from me? What if he was with someone else? What if he wished me luck on the new job but then told me never to call him again?

  Damn, this was hard.

  So pushing aside my disappointment, I settled on getting into my pajamas and catching up on Netflix. It was a good plan. There were a million episodes of something awesome I was sure to be able to binge watch, something so in-depth and distracting all thoughts of Rusty would fade away. Okay, so maybe that was a bit optimistic. I’d aim instead not being consumed by thoughts of Rusty for one evening. There, that was a better plan.

  My television-fueled marathon was interrupted about an hour or so in, an unknown number lighting up my phone screen. Ordinarily I’d have ignored it. Let it go to voicemail but given the last unknown number had resulted in not only a job but turned around my outlook, I decided I’d take a chance and answer it. Maybe I’d unsuspectingly won the lottery. My luck had definitely changed.

  “Hello, Alison speaking.” I introduced myself waiting for the confetti cannons and loud, whirly siren announcing I’d won ten million dollars. It was better than just throwing out a random hello. See, improvements all-round.

  “Oh, hey. This is Jason, Angie’s husband.” The voice on the other end of the phone responded.

  “Jason?” I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked around the room like he might suddenly appear. “Um . . . hey. What can I do for you?” I was able to ask when I returned the phone back to near my mouth.

  “Don’t really need anything; this is more just an announcement call.” I heard the smile in his voice. “I hope you don’t mind that I got your number from Rusty, I wanted you to know Angie had the baby.”

  “Oh my God. Thank you so much for calling me. No I don’t mind about the number, and I definitely wanted to know.” I tried not to squeal in excitement as my pulse raced as I waited for the information.

  It had been a really intense few days. I had completely forgotten that just before I walked out the door and broken up with Rusty, Angie had called in labor. And unless she had been extremely unlucky, or had the gestation of an elephant, she would have had the baby by now. Rocking a new little son or daughter in her arms. It would have been totally unreasonable for Rusty to call and yet, I wished it had been him on the other end of the phone.

  “Congratulations!” I squealed genuinely happy for them both, my mouth and my brain at odds as to what to ask next.

  “We have a little boy. His name is Zack.” Jason filled the silence, following up by telling me when he was born and how much he weighed. He neglected to mention if Rusty had been there, and how he was doing. Something that I was
ashamed to admit, was what I was thinking about the whole time he was talking.

  “That’s amazing.” I found myself saying. “Please give Angie my best wishes. I’m so happy for both of you.”

  “You can visit if you want. I’m sure Angie would love to see you and our little guy is pretty cute. Takes after his mother.” Jason laughed. With two gorgeous parents, the kid was not going to be short of good-looking genes.

  “Um . . . so . . . Rusty and I aren’t really together anymore.” I bit my lip wondering what the protocol was. After all these were his friends, I had merely been a guest in their little circle so I assumed he would handle the news of our breakup. I guess our split was still relatively new, and he hadn’t gotten around to telling them. It’s not something you happily advertise—guess what, I’m no longer dating. There should be some kind of service to handle it. That was a million dollar idea in the making.

  “Yeah, I heard. Doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome to visit.”

  Oh, so he did know. Which begged the question why we were having the conversation? Angie and I were friendly but we were hardly besties. Maybe it was a test? Ashlyn employing Angie and Jase to get involved to see if I was over all the Rusty stuff? I guess in a weird way, Jason and the rest of his band were kind of my boss. Was it too much of a conspiracy theory? And was it strange if I went to see my ex-boyfriend’s best friend’s baby? Damn, there were too many rules.

  “Angie and Zack were discharged so we’re back home. You should stop by.” Jase made it clear that it was more than just a subtle invitation.

  “Umm. I don’t know.” My internal argument continued, my decision not even close to being made.

  “Okay, so let me re-phrase that. You need to stop by.”

  It was no longer a subtle hint. My presence, for whatever reason, was required. God, I hoped this didn’t suck.

  ***

  Sleeping on Renee’s couch sucked ass. One rogue spring had seen fit to poke me right between the ribs. I was sure I’d be rocking some pretty nasty bruising, and my neck could no longer do a full one-eighty swivel. My range of movement was significantly less since waking up with my head hanging off the armrest.