Page 11 of Choke

“It took you literal years to meet Alice and stop talking about that chick all the time, to stop looking for her. She is the one person you seemed to struggle to let go of. Also, the fact that you know right away who I’m referring to is a little telling.” His voice is free from its usual tone of arrogance. He wants to discuss this seriously.

Alice.

She’s waiting for me in my room.

Right.

“What do you want me to say? I was and am used to getting what I want. She wouldn’t indulge. It took me a while to accept that. I have Alice, things are fine. Everything is fine.”

His left eyebrow pops up. “Fine,” He says.

“Yeah. Fine.” I reach for the laptop to turn the camera back on, but he knocks it out of reach.

“Fine. Fine isn’t great. Fine isn’t even good. Plus, you went after the chick she was with at lunch. What did you two talk about?”

This fucking guy.

He has been one of my closest friends since high school. He’s also about as deep as a kid’s pool and has criticized every woman I’ve shown interest in beyond one night, including Alice.

This is a perfect opportunity to deflect.

“Aw, you jealous, babe? You know I only have eyes for you.” I tease.

He opens his mouth to retort, and we hear Brittney call out, “Adrian and Ronan, this is a team meeting. You need to participate.”

We both roll our eyes and turn our camera back on. She painstakingly covers the daily posts for the rest of the meeting and assigns our days to engage with people. I can’t help but wonder when she will give up on assigning me anything to do with social media. The only posts on my account are from Ronan stealing my phone to post. I do not engage with people. I fucking hate Instagram.

My thoughts drift back to the restaurant. She looked different—polished and professional. Her suit was perfectly fitted, and her long hair was swept back in loose waves. But those tattoos on her hands and collarbone were unmistakable. I haven’t seen her since that first night, but it felt like we hadn’t been apart. I spent more time trying to find her than even Ronan knows. It didn’t stop when I met Alice. I just stopped talking about it. The search has always been so futile. Lex is not her full first name, and I have nothing else to go on.

Back then, I checked the bar’s website. It offered zero information on employees. Their social media included photos and videos of patrons and employees but linked to no one. In one photo, she was shoulder-to-shoulder with that bartender, his arm around her waist. It would be best to move on and let it go. Normal people would move on and forget it, but that photo remains in a locked folder, hidden on my phone.

The bartender. The mother fucker feigned concern when I asked her for her information, but I could sense what it was really about. He was into her and unwilling to hurt his chances by connecting her andme. The guy looked like he still lived in Mom’s basement and spent his days off playing video games.

I have no idea how long I spend lost in my thoughts. Ronan pulls me back, thanks Brit, and ends the Zoom call. He opens the internet browser and asks, “What did you and the woman she was with talk about?”

This reminds me that she gave me her business card. I reach for my jacket and fish through the pockets, finding the glossy card.

Kendall Burke

Enterprise Account Executive

AM&T Enterprises

Ronan snatches it from my hand.

“This is a great place to start!” He exclaims, opening a browser window and searching the company.

I start to complain.

I don’t want to admit I still want to find her. Plus, I can manage this on my own. I shut my mouth when he lands on the corporate employee page, and she’s there. A headshot of her looking much like she did the other day, brightly smiling. She looks like she was laughing when the photo was taken, the smile extending to her eyes.

That smile.

Ronan exhales a slow whistle. “Alexandria Donnelly,” He reads, “Enterprise Account Executive. Sounds fancy.”

“It’s a fancy way of saying sales rep,” I reply.

He smirks and continues scrolling, clicking on her LinkedIn, and reading off her career history and endorsements. It’s all there, laid out in neat little sections. She’s been killing it, clearly—but the more I see, the more I feel that gnawing frustration.

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