A Love Letter to Whiskey

by Kandi Steiner

  Turned out I was wrong.

  Turned out I had a rare, deliciously aged bottle of whiskey in my grip, but I let it slip through my slick fingers and crash to the floor.

  And I wasn’t the one allowed to pick up the pieces.

  JAMIE PULLED AWAY after that.

  Not all at once, but slowly and surely.

  Sometimes he seemed normal, sometimes we’d talk for hours and fall into that same easy friendship that’d always existed between us. He never did make it out to see me in Pittsburgh, but I did fly home one weekend, and we spent the entire time tangled in his sheets, save for the one lunch with Mom and Wayne and the dinner with Jenna. And when I got back home, we made tentative plans for him to come see me next, when things slowed down at work. One night, we sat up a movie on each of our screens and hit play at the same time, being as together as we could be through video chat while it played.

  And those were the good times.

  But mostly, Jamie was absent — thinking to himself even if he was on the phone with me. I knew it was killing him to not have me the way he wanted. It felt like rejection to him, I can see that clearly now, but I was selfish back then and I didn’t see a damn thing — maybe I didn’t want to see it.

  Eventually, the calls and texts became fewer and fewer, and I guess I kind of knew that would happen. It was my fault, really — I was the one who asked for the distance, the one who kept it in place, and even though I missed him the more he pulled away, I filled the space he left with more work instead of working to keep him as the occupant.

  The summer flew by in a heated streak, blinding me like the lights from a camera flash. Between the internship and my online courses for my grad degree, free time was practically nonexistent. Before I knew it, it was August, and I was in the last two weeks of my internship with a huge open agent event to host before I rounded out my time with Rye Publishing.

  I was right in the middle of a particularly stressful Thursday afternoon when Jamie texted me that he needed to talk. I was already busy, stretched thin and on the verge of proving that I could be a permanent employee at Rye, and the last thing I needed was the stomach somersault that came with that text from him. The attention I’d garnered as an intern was unprecedented, and I could feel success nipping at the tips of my fingers, waiting for me to latch on. Still, that could all be gone if I let my emotions get the best of me.

  I debated type-screaming at Jamie, telling him I didn’t have time for his shit, but the truth was I was scared of what he had to say. In a way, I knew what was coming, at least I could guess — and I guess that’s why I wanted to be angry. Being mad would be easier than being breakable.

  In the end, I just responded with an “okay” and a promise to call him as soon as I got home that evening. I had just thrown my phone on my desk screen-side down with a long sigh when River propped his forearm on my cube.

  “You need a break.”

  “No,” I corrected him as I logged back into my computer. “I need more hours in the day, actually.”

  He chuckled. “Come on. Food. Now.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Did you forget who your boss is?” I finally looked up at him and he cocked one beautiful blonde eyebrow with a stupid smirk on his face.

  “Way to pull the I pay you card.”

  “Well, I’ll pay for your lunch. How’s that?” He snagged my umbrella from where I’d propped it at the corner of my desk and handed it to me. “You’ve been here for over two months and you still haven’t eaten a Primanti Brothers’ sandwich. We’re fixing that today.”

  I let myself smile, realizing at the mention of food just how hungry I actually was. Maybe I did need a break, even if it was only for an hour. I took the umbrella from his hand and grabbed my purse off the cube hook. “Well how can I say no to sandwiches piled high with french fries and coleslaw?”

  “You can’t. Another trump card.”

  He smiled, motioning with his hand for me to take the lead. I looked back at my phone on the desk but decided to leave it behind. If I was taking a break, I was taking it from everything — and everyone.

  The walk through Market Square to Primati Brothers was wet, and surprisingly chilly for the time of year. I was used to sweltering Augusts, but it was in the sixties and drizzling all day that day. River and I walked side by side with our umbrellas popped open, talking about the event coming up and other small conversation bits. I loved walking through downtown. In fact, I loved everything about Pittsburgh. I was surprised by how much it had evolved to feel like home.

  “Okay, now once you walk through this door, you’re on a break. I’m serious. No work talk,” River said when we reached the entrance. He held his hand on the door until I agreed, and then he opened it and the smell of heaven invaded.

  It was a small place, limited seating mostly at the bar that surrounded where all the cooking was happening. River and I slid up onto two barstools at the far end and a smiling waiter dropped off our menus before turning back to the flat-top to flip an egg.

  “What are you guys having to drink?” he yelled over his shoulder. He had long, dark hair, pulled back into a low bun and tattoos lining his arms. The entire crew behind the bar was shouting orders to each other and cracking jokes in-between. I already felt at ease.

  I opened my mouth to reply, ready to ask for a water, when River answered for us, ordering two local beers.

  “I know I’m at the end of my internship, but don’t tell my boss I’m drinking on the job, okay?” I teased.

  “Something tells me he won’t mind. So, what are you going to order?”

  I looked over the menu, scanning the options. “The Pitts-burger. Number two bestseller.” My eyes read over the other options, and I frowned when I couldn’t find any other menu items with callouts like that. “What’s the number one bestseller?”

  River and the waiter exchanged grins as our beers were placed in front of us, the froth spilling over the side a bit. “You’re looking at it, sweetheart.”

  I was confused, but when River’s eyes crinkled at the edges and fell to the beer I’d just wrapped a hand around, it clicked into place. “Ohhh,” I mused, holding mine up. “Beer. Number one bestseller. I get it.”

  “Faster than most, actually,” the waiter agreed. “So, what will it be?”

  I ordered the Pitts-burger and River opted for the Cajun Chicken and Cheese, and then we relaxed, drinking our beers and talking about everything but work. I hadn’t really stopped to make friends in Pittsburgh, throwing all of my energy into work, but I had taken all the time that I could to get to know Pittsburgh more. I loved the fanfare, the local eats, the hidden gems. It was such a fascinating city, and knocking another place off my bucket list with River seemed like the perfect way to spend my lunch break.

  “So, I couldn’t help but notice you left your right hand behind,” River said as he drank the last of his first beer. He waved his hand at our waiter for another while he waited for my response.

  “Right hand?”

  “Your phone.”

  “Oh.” I ran the pad of my finger over the sweating glass of my beer and shrugged. “Yeah, just needed a break.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  I laughed, cocking a brow at my boss. “No, but slick way of asking if I had one.”

  I wasn’t blind to River’s attraction for me. I didn’t ever see him acting on it, but he would flirt from time to time, or let his eyes wander over me a little longer than they should. Still, he took me seriously as a professional, and that’s what mattered most to me.

  “Wow, I didn’t think you could impress me more.”

  “It impresses you that I’m single?”

  He chuckled, thanking the waiter for his new beer before turning to me again. “No, it impresses me that you’re out here on your own. I’ve never had an intern with as much tenacity as you, and to find out you haven’t been living with a roommate or going out every night or spending your weekends with a boyfriend to keep yourself sane has me
wondering how you do it.”

  I smiled at his compliment, but lifted my shoulders again. “I don’t know, I’m not completely alone. I talk to my best friend a lot.”

  “Jamie, right?”

  My stomach dropped. “Yes…”

  River put his hands up. “Chill, I just see her name on your phone screen a lot in meetings.”

  “Oh, it’s a… I mean Jamie’s not a…”

  He waited as I stumbled for words, but then recognition set in. “Wait, is Jamie a guy?” He groaned. “Oh no, please don’t tell me you have a guy best friend.”

  “Why?”

  River shook his head, eyes on the hand wrapped around his beer. “My mom always told me to never give my heart to a girl with a guy best friend, because her heart isn’t really hers to give in return.”

  He couldn’t have known how those words would sit with me. He couldn’t have known that they’d snake their way in-between the bones of my ribcage, winding tight, cutting off my ability to breathe with their truth. I swallowed, the familiar burn of Whiskey invading my tastebuds. I chased it down with beer, wondering if River was right, wondering even more if it was okay that he was. Jamie wanted my heart, right? Would it be so bad if it was already his? Did I have a choice in the matter?

  “Good thing you’re not trying to give your heart to your intern then, huh?” I winked, and River sat back on his bar stool, a small smile playing at his lips as he watched me.

  “Yeah. Good thing.”

  My sandwich was amazing, everything I thought it would be. Piled high with french fries and cole slaw, I was barely able to scarf down half and finish my beer, too. On the way back to the office, I was rubbing my stomach, surprised to find it still flat after that meal.

  “So, there’s another reason why I wanted to take you to lunch,” River said as we rode the elevator back up to the office.

  “Besides ruining me for all other sandwiches?”

  He grinned. “Yes. Besides that.”

  Silence fell between us, and I looked over my shoulder as if I’d find the rest of his sentence there. “Okay… so…”

  We hit our floor and the doors opened to the office just as applause broke out. I jumped back, but then my hands flew to cover my mouth as I read the banner strung high above Mona’s desk.

  YOU’RE HIRED.

  “What is this?” I whispered, stepping off the elevator as everyone continued cheering. Mr. Randall Godsby made his way through the masses, wide grin that matched River’s firmly in place. The agents I’d worked with all summer were there, along with the media team and vice presidents. It wasn’t a huge office, but it felt big in that moment — like a family.

  “Congratulations, Brecks,” Mr. Godsby said as he extended his hand for my own and I fought against the natural urge to cringe at my full name. I took his hand, looking back over my shoulder at River, but he was just smiling as he glanced between his father and me. “River has told me more than once how crucial you’ve been to the team this summer, but even if he hadn’t, I would have noticed for myself — and that’s saying something. If you’re looking to hole yourself up in Pittsburgh a while longer, we’d like to offer you a full-time job — as an Associate Literary Agent.”

  I squealed, unable to contain my excitement as I shook his hand ferociously. Everything I’d worked for that summer came to fruition in a room full of people who’d doubted me from the moment I walked through the door. I couldn’t believe it, even as Randall dropped my hand and gripped my shoulder firmly with a proud smile.

  My mind scanned reasons to decline, but came up empty. I was still completing my online M.S. Degree in Publishing: Digital and Print Media from PSU and I loved Pittsburgh. Rye Publishing was one of the top publishing houses, and I had no other offers lined up. Nothing was keeping me from staying, except for the clawing notion that it meant more time away from someone really important to me. But if he felt for me the way he said he did, he would understand. He’d be happy for me.

  And so I smiled, and accepted my first job offer — one I’d earned on my own.

  “I don’t even know what to say, Mr. Godsby. Thank you. And I’d be honored to join the Rye team full-time.”

  “Huzzah!” River joked, grabbing one of the flutes of champagne from Mona and handing it to me. Even she was smiling — and that was saying something. “A toast, to the new Rye Rookie.”

  “Cheers!” Everyone’s voices rang out at once and we tipped our plastic flutes together. Then, it was business as usual, everyone slowly making their way back to their desks or meeting rooms.

  “Does that happen every time someone is hired?”

  River shrugged. “Every time they’re promoted, yes.”

  A slow grin found its way to my face as I let that sink in. A promotion. I’d been promoted after just two months as an intern. River’s hand reached up to squeeze my shoulder before he passed by me, and I stood there with my champagne, smiling like an idiot.

  “You can get back to work now, rookie,” Mona said, plopping down into her chair and tapping at her keyboard immediately. She cocked a brow and gave me a small smile of her own. “And congrats.”

  “Thanks, Mona.”

  I sort of danced my way back to my desk, full from the sandwich and the love from my new team. I had a job — a real job — and I’d earned it. Nothing could bring me down.

  But when I sat back in my chair and grabbed my phone to text Mom, I remembered the phone call I’d be having in just a few short hours. With Jamie.

  And I’d have to tell him I’m staying in the city.

  I DECIDED TO PICK UP a nice bottle of whiskey on my way home.

  I was celebrating, after all — even if a part of me didn’t feel like it, knowing the phone conversation I’d be having soon. After the high recommendation from the liquor store owner, I ended up with a bottle of Whipper Snapper Project Q. It was an Australian whiskey, one I’d never tried or even heard of before, and I liked the name of it. It reminded me of what my dad’s dad used to call me when I was younger, especially when I was being smart with him. I’d paid way too much for it, and like the bad ass I convinced myself I was, I poured it neat. Then, I sat down on my small couch with the nighttime view of Market Square and dialed Jamie’s number.

  I took my first sip as the phone rang, and though the whiskey burned, it was surprisingly smooth. I hissed a breath through my teeth, but knew that after that first glass, it’d be easy as water to drink.

  “B?”

  There was a hint of desperation in his voice, and it warmed my heart.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  He blew out a breath, long and steady, and then he started speaking. “Okay, I just need you to sit there and listen to me for a minute, okay? I know you’re scared of us, of what we’ve been in the past and what we might not be in the future. I know you’re standing on your own for the first time and you’re proud of that, hell I’m proud of that too, but I can stand with you.”

  “Jamie—”

  “And I know long distance freaks you out, but we’ve made it through the summer practically as a long distance couple, even if we didn’t title it that.” I couldn’t argue that point, but still — was it the fact that the pressure of a title wasn’t there that allowed us to survive? “I’ve been thinking. Your internship is almost over, and I’ve been looking at some publishing places in Miami. A lot of them are hiring, and you have experience now. Your classes are online, B. You could come home, we could be together.”

  “Jamie, I—”

  “No, just let me finish. I know this is a lot to ask. You don’t owe me anything, and the fact that I’m asking you to uproot yourself and move back for me is selfish as fuck. But I realized last time you walked away from me, I didn’t ask you anything at all. So this time, I’m putting it out there — I’m letting you know what I want. I want you. I want you to move back, hell to move in.” He laughed, and I could feel his bright smile through the phone. It only tore my heart into yet another piece. “It doesn’t ha
ve to be complicated. We can do this, B.”

  “I’m staying.”

  “Jenna’s here, too. And your mom. And—”

  “Jamie, I’m staying in Pittsburgh,” I said louder. “They offered me a full-time job. Today.”

  Silence fell between us, and I picked up my glass slowly, taking another longer pull of the whiskey.

  “Okay,” he breathed the word out slowly. “That’s okay. We can see each other once a month, take turns flying, and eventually we’ll figure it out.”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” my voice broke with the words. “You have your dad’s firm there. And I have my life here.” Life was a little strong of a word, considering work was my life in Pittsburgh, but I’d moved to the city with a fire in my eyes and I was already making a name for myself. Thinking about complicating that with a long-distance relationship gave me hives, and hearing him say “eventually we’ll figure it out” didn’t help. What did that mean? We both knew he was never leaving his dad’s firm, which meant that he expected me to “eventually figure it out” and move back home.

  “That doesn’t mean we can’t have a life together, too.”

  I paused a beat, heart breaking a little at how wrong he was. “But it kind of does, Jamie. It all sounds so easy when you say it over the phone, but a long-distance relationship is hard. It’s complicated and messy and neither of us needs that right now, not when we’re both just getting started in our careers. It’s just not the right time for us…” I shook my head. “It’s never the right time.”

  There was a sigh on the other end, and I felt the time stretch between us before Jamie spoke again. When he did, his voice was lower, defeated, and the sound of it nearly made me drop my glass.

  “That’s not fair. You don’t understand this, B — any of it. When you left Alder, you got to leave it all behind — the places we went, the memories we made. But I lived there. Without you. For three years.” He paused. “And then, when I found you again, everything seemed right. The timing, the way we both felt. I finally got an answer from you, why you stayed away all those years, and I got it, B — I really did. I understood. You were broken from your father’s death and you needed time and space. I gave that to you. Happily. I didn’t know if I’d ever have you again but I didn’t care because I knew what you needed from me.”