"Have you tried turning it off and back on again?"
••
Christian Ivonov, CEO of Ivonov enterprises, had always been the best at fucking things up. Whether it be relationships, or company connections, nothing was too far out of his reach to ruin.
Alex...
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I woke up later than expected the following morning. When I checked my bedside alarm, realization quickly settled in. My unintelligent ass had set the my alarm for seven in the evening, as opposed to seven in the morning.
What I hoped would be a relaxing and prepared start to the day, quickly turned into something hasty. I didn't even have the time to put on a suit, so I settled for a sweater and some khakis. This was just going to have to do.
When I made it downstairs, Nathaniel had already wrapped some breakfast burritos to go, and set them on the counter. There was a note attached to the foil that said..
Call your mother when you can. And bring back some avocados. I want to make guacamole.
My lips twitched up into a grin. Nathaniel was one of the few people that could send me out on errands like this.
Who was supposed to be paying who again? I thought to myself.
The note fit perfectly into my back pocket, as I grabbed the two burritos off the table, and made my way towards the garage.
-
It felt like I had been driving for eternity. Literally. I kept glancing at the time on the gps impatiently as I zig zagged through the traffic. Once traffic cleared from the congested areas of the city, and out into the country, the drive became easier.
Farm fields stretched out for miles ahead of me.
The facility was located out in the middle of what felt like nowhere. I decided upon this treatment center because Regional had assisted an old buddy of mine with getting clean years ago. Their programs worked, and the staff had just the right amount of backbone for a struggling addict. I appreciated how hands on and invested the facility made me feel during that process, and I wanted the same for Alex's mother.
There was an unavoidable amount of anxiety which started to build up inside of me as I neared the building. What was I even going to say to her? How was I going to convince her that she needed the treatment? These were questions I probably should have thought of before I left.
At this point, we were going to have to wing it.
The facility lot was generally empty for the most part. I was able to find parking near the front of the building, and as soon as I entered the treatment center, I was welcomed with a smile from the receptionist.
"Good morning, sir. How may I help you?" The woman asked. The name plate on her desk said Cindy Matthews.
"Hi Cindy." I returned the smile. "I believe I had scheduled a meeting with Sandy to see Mrs. Hamilton this morning." She quickly got to typing something into her computer.
