That's How it Happens

15. Fun, Poked and Slightly Drunk

She leaned against the elevator wall, that familiar haze settling in - the kind that only follows liquor you didn't mean to drink but absolutely did. The bartender had made something fantastic - well, fantastic and dangerous. She couldn't remember the name now, which felt like a red flag. It hadn't hit her until she stood up to call a taxi, and by then, it was too late. The drinks had seemed like a good idea after Peter dropped his bomb. They weren't.

She'd pay for it tomorrow. Probably in full.

The bomb - well, the evening, really - had done exactly what it was meant to: left her in a state of aftershock. This wasn't just a deal. It was the deal. The kind that could change everything. And she was seriously considering it. What was she thinking?

But - there was always a but in her viscous, overthinking mind - there was Leo.

How was she supposed to explain to him that she was even considering leaving the company? Peter had to be wrong. Leo would never keep something like that from her. Even if it meant losing her to the competition. Even with all his quirks and overprotectiveness, he'd always given her room to grow. Unless it involved April. That was always a negotiation. But taking away opportunities? Never.

By the second drink, she'd reprimanded herself for sitting there like a lunatic, talking to herself in public. Her decision was firm: she'd turn Peter down. Graciously. Leo wouldn't do that to her. He couldn't. Besides, she loved her job. Loved the company. Leo had taken a chance on her, and even though she'd earned it, she still felt like she owed him. Why would she ever hesitate?

Worth every minute of a hangover, she thought, yawning.

She smacked her lips, grimaced, and rummaged through her bag for gum, wondering if the bad taste was from the booze or the fact that she was about to break their silent treatment first. She couldn't talk to Leo about Gold - but she had to talk to Leo. It was second nature now. He was her compass when her brain went sideways, even if that thought bruised her pride.

Her fingers brushed something familiar. She pulled out an empty gum box - and tucked inside, the keycard to the top-floor condo.

"Leo," she muttered to the box, like it might answer.

She considered it - for half a second. Maybe he'd let her crash on the couch. Anything to avoid bunking with Aunt Kate and her racy bedtime commentary. She could sneak up there. Quietly. But the idea of walking in on something she didn't want to see made her shudder. Her face flushed ten degrees.

You need to talk to him, her drunk brain whispered.

He was only trying to help. She knew that. It's what he did. He had a knack for it. He'd even offered to spend Christmas with her instead of his own family. That thought made her stomach twist.

This argument is your fault. You're acting like a spoiled brat.

She knew that, too. It was why she hadn't tried to fix it. For once, she'd acted like Liv when she didn't get her way - and the taste of that was worse.

He didn't understand the Drake family dynamic. Not really. Since her father passed, no one held them together. They just... existed. Her mother and Aunt Kate tolerated each other. Barely. Sure, they loved each other, but given the option, her mother would cut ties. Aunt Kate didn't care what anyone thought. Ainsley sighed. Aunt Kate was trying to be the glue. She just wasn't very good at it.

Maybe if I explained that to Leo, she thought. Maybe he'd understand. Maybe he'd help - like he always does - by backing out of Christmas.

Two weeks with her family? A nightmare. She barely survived twenty-two years of it. Their friendship couldn't handle the charade of being a couple for that long. That was the real stressor in the mess he'd created. She was losing him because of it, and the thought made her chest ache.