Page 34 of Addicted

He headed straight for the kitchen. Depending on the event and the time of day, employees were welcome to scrounge up a meal, although meals sometimes meant cocktail hour leftovers or whatever food was left unclaimed after the event. After years of serving it, smelling it, and eating leftovers, Liam was shockingly tired of stuffed sea bass, Chicken Francese, eggplant parmigiana, and filet mignon.

The kitchen door squeaked as it swung back and forth, and Angelo looked up at Liam from behind a long metal counter, where dozens of identical bowls were lined up, waiting for salad.

“Look who finally decided to show his face!” Suited up in a white chef’s coat and black trousers, Angelo was checking off various lists while quickly scanning the room to make sure things were going as they should.

“Me?” Liam blinked at him, confused.

A pan banged in one of the sinks and someone scurried by Liam, making him move a few steps closer to the counter.

“Parker usually comes down here to grab your food. Must be nice living the high life up there in that office.” Angelo grinned, his voice merry. Liam always liked him. Angelo was easy to talk to, affable even when he was in the weeds during a huge event, and one of The Pointe’s bright spots.

“It’s so much paperwork.” Liam shook his head. “So much. I don’t think you’d want to trade.”

“And I think you’re right.” Angelo rubbed the back of his bald head. He’d had hair years ago but shaved it off when baldness crept in. According to him, the ladies loved the look so he had no regrets; plus, he didn’t have to wear a hairnet. “I’ll stay here if I have to handlethosekinds of phone calls. I don’t know how Parker deals with it.“ He exhaled, puffing out his cheeks with a shake of his head.

“Mmm...” Liam didn’t know how Owen dealt with it either. He was clearly a different man than he was three years ago. He was suffering, going through a terrible divorce alongside the loss of his son. Owen was one of the proudest dads that Liam had ever known so it must be ripping him apart to be away from Mikey, yet he was taking the time every day to think about Liam, to bring him food...

To take care of him.

And it was about time Liam returned the gesture.

“Um, Angelo?” Liam had an idea but he wasn’t sure about it. “Can you do me a favor?”

13

OWEN

Owenstoodbythewindow in his office staring sightlessly down at the staff as they finished preparations for that evening’s wedding reception. It was strange how the world kept turning. While his life was falling apart, someone would joyously be starting theirs and the contrast stung. Owen hoped that they’d have better luck than he did.

That call was something out of his nightmares, shaking his hopeful foundation, replacing it with anger that slowly morphed into fear. Fear that he was truly going to lose his son. It had always been there, lurking in the background, but now it had more shape and form. It left Owen disconnected from reality, sapping the strength he used to keep his despair at bay, which was wrapping around him like a shroud.

“Owen?” The office door slid against the carpet as it opened. “I umm…brought you some lunch?” Liam’s voice cracked a little, telling Owen that his mood was leaking out. Of course it was. He could barely hold onto his poker face downstairs but now it was long gone. He didn’t know if he’d be able to summon it again.

The scent of perfectly cooked meat filled the room. Distantly, Owen heard the clink of plates being placed on his desk.

“Do you like filet mignon?” Liam asked hesitantly. And Owen certainly did. He liked most cuts of beef, especially if they were grilled. Before the divorce, grilling and smoking meats had been one of his hobbies and he’d done it constantly. Even when the weather wasn’t hospitable, he’d be out there shivering, bundled up in a winter coat, or holding an umbrella over himself and the equipment, trying not to get drenched. When he and Sharon had bought their first house, next to The Grays, he’d only owned a small hibachi grill but each subsequent one became more and more elaborate until Owen had to build an extension onto his deck to accommodate an enormous Kamado grillandsmoker.

“M-Most of us are bored of it because it’s been on the menu forever but I didn’t think you’d be yet.” Liam’s words were breaking through Owen’s dismal fog, slowly reeling him in, and he turned his head from the window, watching as Liam fiddled with the cutlery, adjusting it on the napkin he’d placed beside the plate. “Angelo doesn’t usually prepare it this way but I asked him for a favor. He did a quick marinade and found a tiny electric grill in the back of a cabinet-”

Somehow the fork that Liam was straightening jumped up, flipped over his hand, and landed on the floor.

“Oops!” Liam scrambled after it, picking it up and desperately rubbing it clean with the napkin. “S-Sorry about that! It was only on the floor for a second but I can go back to the kitchen and get you anoth-”

Owen didn’t remember crossing the room but suddenly he was next to Liam, wrapping a hand around his wrist to still him. Liam froze, looking up at Owen with wide hazel eyes that seemed to swallow his world, anchoring him along with the touch.

“It’s fine.” Owen’s voice was low, gritty with emotion. “Thank you, Liam, this is very thoughtful.” It was true, Liam’s gesture was incredibly sweet and endearing. He knew what Owen was going through, guessed that he’d gotten some bad news, and went through the trouble of arranging a special meal. Trying to emote appreciation, Owen stared back until the silence between them hit the cusp of awkwardness, squeezed Liam’s hand, and pulled away, feeling weirdly bereft. Liam shook himself and nodded, his cheeks flushing as he put the fork and napkin back on the table.

Flopping down in his desk chair, Owen leaned over, elbows on his knees, letting out a weary sigh.

“Sometimes I feel like the biggest failure.” Head down, he spoke to the floor, unable to suppress his defeat. He should be sharing this with Dr. Lawson, and he would, but there was something about Liam that allowed him to be vulnerable. Over these past few weeks Liam had become more than an old neighbor, an employee, a person Owen wanted to coax out of his shell, he’d become someone Owen could talk to. Could sit with. He’d become a real friend.

“No,“ Liam blurted, the sharpness of his voice causing Owen to look up. “Th-that’s ridiculous. You’re running this place better than the last four managers we’ve had while dealing with…with everything. You’renota failure.“ Flushing an even deeper red, Liam crossed his arms and shifted his feet, looking away.

Sighing again, Owen scrubbed his hands through his hair.

“This is harder than I thought it would be.” He clenched his fists in frustration. “I think I’m doing fine. Getting my life back on track. And then…it hits me like a brick to the face. I miss Michael so much. More than I can say. I think about him all the time.” He closed his eyes. “And now I’m yelling at clients.”

A small cold hand rested on his forearm and Owen blinked his eyes open to find Liam kneeling in front of him, his face full of understanding.

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