Page 5 of The Only Time

I know he can come off like a dick but it’s a front. Deep down, he would never treat anybody without the respect they deserve. He’s just trying to figure out what the hell he wants out of life like all of us. At my age, I’m starting to wonder if anybody ever really figures it out or if we eventually just start pretending.

“I’m working on a new acquisition—two thousand employees. I need you to look over the numbers with me to see how many of them we can realistically keep in order to smooth over the dickhead board.”

“Damn. You know whenever we acquire companies that large, there are tons of positions that get cut. Corporations always end up having positions filled where the employee doesn’t have enough work to fill a full-time position.”

My body suddenly feels prickly all over and I resist the urge to itch my chest. I hate this part of the job.

“I know. Based on my rough estimate of a standard company in their industry with an equivalent level of revenue, they are about thirty percent overstaffed. But I just need you to do some more digging for me.”

“No problem.”

I crane my neck to the side and hear a loud crack. This day sucks.

Adam looks at me funny. “You alright, man? You seem tense.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “You always tell me I look tense.”

He laughs to himself. “True. But you seem tenser than usual.”

I slightly recline in my chair and throw my head back as I look up at the large ceiling tiles in my office. “It’s my sister. She just called me and told me one of her friends needs to stay with me for a while. She’ll be there by the time I get home from work.”

I can see the look of confusion on his face. He doesn’t mask his feelings very well. “And you hate people, so this is equivalent to a shark attack for you?”

“I never said that. I’m not so dramatic that I’d react like that.”

“Your neck just went off like a firework when you cracked it.”

I resist the urge to crack it again then sit up and look him in the eyes. My shoulders deflate. “Fine. This is my own personal hell. Why does she have to stay with me?”

“Doesn’t your sister live in like a tiny little house?”

“Yeah,” I draw out.

“And don’t you live in a five-bedroom mansion?”

“Yeah, but it only has one kitchen and one family room,” I respond in defense.

“So, go watch TV in your room, or the massive basement with the huge built-in bar, or go watch it in your backyard where it’s hanging above your outdoor stone fireplace.”

“What about the kitchen?” I point out.

“You’ve got issues man. I guess you might have to risk a bit of social interaction with a woman for a little while if she happens to be in the kitchen when you are. I think you’ll survive.”

He clearly doesn’t get it. I know it sounds crazy, but I like my space. I like coming home from work and not having to be on for anybody. I spent years with a woman who I was constantly trying to please. And she only ended up being unsatisfied with anything I ever did for her.

I’m just over all of it. “Whatever. I just like my space when I get home.”

He looks at me sympathetically. “I get it. You’ve been burned a time or two in life. But not all women are like Kim.”

“This isn’t about Kim,” I snap back.

“Everything is about Kim. You changed when she left you. I’m not saying what she did wasn’t shitty, but you have to face the facts. You haven’t resolved your shit since she left.” He stands up and heads for the door. “I feel for you, I do. But maybe having someone live with you for a while will be a good thing. It might loosen you up a bit—remind you how to have some fun.”

With that, he leaves. The room starts to feel like there’s not enough oxygen in it. Like someone sucked it all out leaving me to die. I undo the top button of my shirt but it does nothing.

What a friend he is. The least he could have done was let me bitch and moan about it like a real friend would do. He didn’t have to offer his opinion. Then he had to go and bring up my ex. Now I’m not only tense, but I’m angry. I’m sure that will be a lovely combination to bring home to this woman.

I’ve managed to put off leaving my office for as long as I can. It’s now seven, and I’m starving.

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