by Chloe Finch
He shook his head, but the bridesmaid didn’t take the hint. Instead of leaving him alone, she came closer and put her arms around his neck like she was going to slow dance with him while he was sitting on a barstool.
“Come on,” she pouted. “Just one dance.”
“Excuse me,” he said, slipping out from under her arms. “I’ll be right back.” He wasn’t coming back.
He went out on the patio. The club was on the roof and had a killer view of the city. It was windy, and there were only a few people scattered around smoking or taking a break from the noise of the club. On the way to the patio, the tequila shot hit him like a brick wall. That plus however many scotches he’d had and he was thoroughly trashed. He gripped the railing to keep from swaying too much and looked out at the city.
He tried to make himself feel something about it. He had gone out that night to forget about Grace, searching for that invincible feeling he used to get when he and Derek would tear up the town. That perfect moment when the DJ played the right song and he was the right level of fucked-up and everyone at the club was his best friend. When it felt like being in the coolest club in New York was being at the center of the universe. Wishing the night could go on forever, that they’d never need to go home. If only the sun never came up, they could be on top of the world forever.
Now he was just drunk and sad and alone.
There was a guy standing a few feet away, leaning on the railing and smoking a cigarette. “The city sure looks good at night, doesn’t it?” He said.
“Fucking sucks if you ask me,” Zach said.
The guy laughed. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt with a blazer over it. He looked like one of those sleazy club promoters who was always trying to find women to fill up a club with offers of free bottle service and thought because they said yes, they wanted his dick.
“Life got you down, man?” He asked.
“Something like that.” He screwed up the best thing that happened to him in years and didn’t even have anyone to talk to about it. His only friends these days—at least ones that he actually ever saw—were at work. And he couldn’t exactly talk to them about it.
Brad had tried to bring it up earlier that day. “Dude, you’ve been screwing Grace?” He asked, a shit-eating grin on his face. It was like he expected Zach to say, Yeah, bro. I’ve been hate-fucking her, and the best part is she’s totally into it. It made him sick to his stomach. Was he really that much of an asshole that Brad thought the video was all fun and games?
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he had said.
“Oh, sorry, man,” Brad said. “Is it Derek? He didn’t look good in that video. Is he okay? He seemed kind of messed up.”
Zach didn’t even try to explain to Brad how far off base he was. That Zach didn’t care about the Derek part of it at all. That he was lying about Grace, that he was actually falling in love with her and had fucked it up by saying those things about her. That the video was the dumbest thing he’d ever done, which was really saying something.
June wouldn’t be any better. It wasn’t like they often had serious conversations outside of work, and it had been a long time since the last time they got drunk and really got into the heavy stuff. She’d probably tell him to suck it up and not be such a dumbass with the next girl. And then he’d have to tell her that he didn’t want there to be a next girl.
“I know how that goes,” the man on the patio said. “Is it a woman?”
Zach didn’t answer. There was no way in hell he was explaining the situation with Grace to some douchebag club promoter.
“Ah,” the guy said knowingly, as if his silence was enough of an answer. “I’ve got something to help you with that, if you’re interested.”
It finally occurred to him why he started chatting him up in the first place. He was trying to sell him drugs. Random dudes in nightclubs didn’t usually approach him looking for friendship. And he was so hammered already he should probably just go home. But he wanted self-destruction to feel good again.
“What do you have?”
He ended up doing a line of coke and taking some molly for good measure. He came out of the bathroom with his nose twitching, feeling like he was floating through the club. His favorite song was on. Well, his new favorite song at least. He knew it was the drugs, but he didn’t care. It was a relief to feel good again. Hopeful. Even if he’d pay for it tomorrow. He’d worry about it then.
He got out on the dance floor and danced by himself. A woman joined him, and he thought of Grace again. This time though, he was hopeful. He was in sales—it was the business of convincing people to like him. And he was the fucking best at it. Of course he’d be able to win her back. With the way she had looked at him when they were having sex? She wouldn’t let go that easy. It would work out. It always worked out.
Chapter Fourteen
Zach
Zach woke up to the sun in his face, his back aching. For a confused moment, he didn’t know where he was. Then it hit him. He passed out in the park under a tree, and the ache in his back was from a root he was lying on. It would have been funny if he didn’t feel like such shit. Another night that started at that dive bar and ended up with him passed out in Central Park. He was so sore it felt like he got in a fight. Did he get in a fight? He couldn’t remember. There was a woman he was dancing with. Did he hook up with her? No, definitely not. He was too busy thinking about Grace, how he was going to get her back, how simple it seemed.
And then he woke up. He didn’t remember walking to the park or deciding it was a good idea to sleep here instead of going home like a normal person. He swore he’d never do this again. Swore he’d never spend another night on the street as long as he lived. Swore he was nothing like his useless brother, but here he was waking up in a park, alone, not knowing what happened the night before after doing a bunch of drugs.
Disgust rose in his throat along with bile. It was difficult to tell what was the hangover and what was self-loathing. In a sick way, it would be funny if Derek was asleep elsewhere in the park. God only knew where he slept these days.
He thought he had everything under control, right up until that moment. That’s when it finally hit him. He had it wrong all along. He never had things under control in the first place. Maybe Derek was right. If he had to abide the rules of the bar, he’d have lost his job by now too. Maybe it was just dumb luck that everyone in sales drank too much and looked the other way as long as you were closing. Maybe if he didn’t get things under control, he was going to end up in the gutter right next to Derek. Metaphorically and literally by the looks of it.
He stood up slowly because of his creaking back and took stock of himself. Face, limbs all intact. Ribs sore, but just the ones that were already cracked. Phone and keys were in his pocket, but not his wallet. He patted the suit jacket pockets, hoping like hell he just put it in a different spot, but no such luck. Somewhere along the way he managed to lose that too. He took a couple of steps and had to stop. His back was in screaming pain. There was no way he was walking all the way home from here. Maybe a Lyft. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but it was dead. He hobbled out of the park and straight across the street to the first building he saw: The Plaza Hotel.
Again he was reminded of the night he and Derek and Jeff were wreaking havoc. It might have actually been The Plaza, he couldn’t recall. Now ten years later, he was limping in under uncomfortably similar circumstances.
The doorman didn’t blink an eye at the sight of him. He held the big gold door and said, “Welcome back, sir.” Even as wrecked as he was, the expensive suit and haircut probably made him look like an out-of-town businessman who partied too hard last night and not a homeless guy who had slept in the park. He wasn’t sure which was closer to the truth.
He gave his best charismatic smile to the front desk clerk, and they let him use the phone. He called the only person he could think of: June.
* * *
The doorman had barely shut the door of
June’s car when she started in on him. “What the hell happened to you?”
It was only 6:30 a.m., and she was in workout gear with a full face of makeup, hair already done. He told her the short version of it. She hadn’t seen the video that was sent to the fellows, so he had to back up and tell the whole thing from the start.
“Oh, you royally screwed up.” She patted his leg affectionately. “You have to do something about this.”
“I know,” he said miserably. He leaned his forehead against the cool car window and tried not to think about how nauseous he was. “I know I need to do something. But I don’t even know where to start. How do I make her stop hating me?”
“Well, getting shitfaced and sleeping in the park probably isn’t the best way,” she said.
“I’m serious. I think I love her.”
“Love?” She glanced over at him. She was wearing Ray-Ban Clubmaster sunglasses. He had the same pair. “Did I hear you correctly? Is this Zach, or did I just pick up Derek instead? That can’t be right though, Derek’s just as bad as you. Is there a third twin that actually has a heart?”
He closed his eyes. How to explain Grace? “She’s just…She’s so smart and capable, you know? She’s one of the most focused people at Sterling. She’ll honestly probably outsell both of us her first year. And she’s so sweet and thoughtful. I didn’t know there was anyone who cared as much about other people as she does. And she does this cute thing where she twirls her reading glasses around her finger when she’s thinking about something.”
“Sounds like the real deal to me,” June said.
He opened his eyes. The sun was fully up and they were speeding down 9th Avenue. No traffic this time of day. “I didn’t think you believed in love.”
“Everyone believes in love, stupid. I just don’t go airing my drama all over the workplace like some people.”
It occurred to Zach he knew next to nothing about June’s love life.
“Are you seeing anyone?” He asked.
“What, are you asking me out again?”
“I just realized I don’t know if you’re dating anyone or not.”
“Yeah, I am. Her name’s Fiona.” She smiled. “She’s a professional boxer.”
“Sounds badass.”
“She is. She could kick your ass in a heartbeat. Now quit trying to change the subject. What are you going to do about Grace?”
“I…I have no idea. I don’t think she’ll ever take me back.”
June sighed, exasperated, like Zach was her dumb kid brother. “She’ll take you back. You just said she’s the most caring person in the entire world. Have you even tried being nice to her?”
“What do you mean?” Zach said. Of course he was nice to her. He was in love with her.
“You know exactly what I mean, fuckface. Get your head out of your ass and stop being such an insufferable douchebag all the time. Be. Nice.”
“Am I really that bad?”
“Obviously you are or we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, would we?” She was never one to sugarcoat things. It was one of the reasons he admired her.
And she was right. It must be totally humiliating for Grace to have all her coworkers know she was fucking the guy who apparently couldn’t stand her. Shit. He had been even worse to her than he realized. Grace wasn’t just pissed about him lying to Derek. Maybe she could have gotten over it if it hadn’t gotten out to everyone at work. Or if he had been nice to her at work, it might have been believable that he was lying when he’d said those things to Derek. As it stood, to everyone else it looked like he hated her and she slept with him anyway. This whole mess was all his fault. There had to be a way to fix it.
* * *
Grace
A week later, Zach still looked like shit. He had huge bags under his eyes, and his normally pristine suits were all wrinkly, like he hadn’t bothered to get them cleaned.
He wasn’t acting like himself either. Before the morning training session, he didn’t horse around with the other mentors. He sat at the mentor table slumped over and staring out into space. He didn’t even make any snide comments. During training sessions, he was quieter and borderline…nice?
One day Joe came in to talk to them about dealing with objections.
“What do you say when someone tells you ‘I’m happy with my guy now’?” Joe said. He had his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels in front of the room. The stance reminded Grace of the cool teacher everyone idolized in high school. Tall, funny, and confusingly attractive for someone her dad’s age.
One of the bros raised his hand. “Let me explain how Sterling is different?”
Joe nodded slowly, considering the answer. “Okay, yes. That’s good. You could definitely say that. You know what you’re going to get though?” He held his hand up to his ear, miming a telephone, and then put it down on an invisible receiver. “Click. They hung up on you. What else?”
No one raised their hand. Zach was slumped against the wall at the front of the room like he was using it to prop himself up. When Joe started the session, he said Zach, as the best salesperson at Sterling, was going to help him teach it. But so far, he had been just standing there uselessly. He finally interjected.
“You know, Grace over there is actually doing best in the entire class. She’s gotten a couple clients I could never get a meeting with.”
Grace was startled to hear him say her name. The distance between them had grown enormously since the video. From the shattering crack that formed when she pressed play, it had grown into an impassable crevasse. Stranger still were the words he said. Was he actually talking her up at work? That was a first.
“Is that right? Nice job, Grace,” Joe said. “Tell me how you’d respond: ‘I’m happy with my guy now.’”
Everyone turned to look at her.
“Well, I’m not sure if it’s right or not,” she started. “But it’s been working for me. I say, ‘I can certainly understand that. A couple of my current clients actually said that the first time I talked to them. But when I told them about our four-step, comprehensive analysis process, they decided they didn’t like their guy as much as they thought.’”
Joe pointed at her. “Yes,” he said. He began to clap, and the rest of the room joined in. Grace couldn’t help but smile. Even though she’d been doing pretty well in the program so far, she hadn’t gotten an ounce of praise from anyone.
“Beautiful,” Joe said. “I hope the rest of you were taking notes because that’s a perfect response.”
The bro sitting next to her opened his notebook and started scribbling down her script. A guy in front of her turned around and asked her to repeat it. She tried to enjoy the moment and not glance at Zach.
* * *
Jessica convinced Grace to go out for a drink after work. Not like a booze-soaked Sterling happy hour, just a quiet drink at this cheesy tourist bar by the office. Grace was feeling especially grateful for Jessica right about now. She hadn’t told any of her other friends what had happened, too embarrassed to admit the whole story, especially since she hadn’t even told them she’d started seeing someone in the first place.
They were sitting at a table shaped like a ship’s wheel. It was one of those themed bars that charged thirty dollars for a cocktail and served it in a novelty cup with a salad’s worth of garnishes. Jessica had chosen the spot, insisting it would make Grace feel better to get a drink that came with a tiny plastic dinosaur. The dinosaur did make her smile.
Grace told Jessica about the painfully bad presentation Zach had given.
“You know this is all about you, right?” Jessica said.
“I think it has more to do with his brother.” She’d been putting all her energy into trying to hate Zach, and he wasn’t making it easy being so pathetic all the time.
“Girl, no. Word travels fast around here, and it’s common knowledge that you dumped his ass after that video, and now he’s a slobbering pile of goo.”
She made a
face. “Good. He should be upset. He’s an asshole.” In a sick way, she was glad he was hurting over her. She couldn’t believe she let herself get carried away with the fantasy that Zach would change. That there was a decent person underneath his hard exterior. She had been dead wrong. She was always wrong lately.
“Hell yes.” Jessica clapped with each syllable. “You are worth so much more than that loser. We need to do something to get your mind off him.”
Grace swirled the straw shaped like a tiny pool noodle in her drink, pushing the little plastic shark around. “Like what?” She was leery of Jessica making any plans for them, other than getting food. Jessica’s idea of fun wasn’t exactly conventional.
“Let’s go get massages at one of those spas where they slap you.”
“What? What is that even? No,” Grace said, bewildered.
“Somebody was telling me about it last weekend. Apparently it’s going to be the next big thing. There was a trend piece about it in New York and everything.”
“I’m not paying money for someone to slap massage me,” Grace said. She put her hands out. “Full stop.”
“Okay, fine. We’ll have to think of something else then.” She stared into space, contemplating ideas. At the bar, lights were flashing and the bartenders were making people on barstools chant something. Grace was glad they got a table.
“I shouldn’t take him back, right?” She blurted.
“Of course not, babe.” Jessica flicked a curl out of her face. “I sure as hell wouldn’t take him back. He had his chance with you, and he ruined it. So sad, his loss.”