At first Harry Princeton and my superiors back in Dublin were thrilled with the turnaround in my work production. But soon I was the one hounding them for falling behind, for slowing me down, for not moving faster, faster, faster. I became more short-tempered than ever before. People at the office hushed as I stalked down the hall, scurrying away and pretending to be hard at work when I passed. In conference meetings they kept their heads tucked to their chests, eyes fixed on their binders, afraid to even meet my gaze.
I can't really say that I blame them. The few times when I bothered to assess myself in the mirror of the men's bathroom, I almost frightened myself. The lack of sleep had balled its fists and given me two dark purple black eyes. Red streaks erupted from my green irises like demonic bolts of lightning. Shaving I'd deemed to be a waste of time, so my stubble gave me the appearance of a madman. The caffeine I used to keep awake made my hands shake, and I lashed out at anyone who dared to notice.
I was a terror in the office and with every passing minute I feared my racing heart might give out, but I got shit done. And even better—I was too busy, or too out of my mind, to give any thought to Abbi. I was an addict on a bender and fuck, did it feel good.
I was out of control at the wheel, tyres screeching, engine whining, hood smoking. I was careening toward a cliff, but it didn't fucking matter, because I was alone. Alone. Alone.
I was in my office, my fingers shaking so terribly that I could barely hold the rolled-up dollar bill I'd been using to snort cocaine when caffeine was no longer enough. I inhaled the white powder, dragged my fingers through my hair as I felt its electrifying effect, and pushed the button on my phone to call my assistant.
"I don't have the day’s schedule," I growled irritably.
"Um, there's nothing for today," the girl said, her voice frightened.
"What the fuck do you mean there's nothing for today?"
I heard the girl shifting uncomfortably in her chair outside my office. "We're done, sir," she said. "We're all finished."
I glared at the phone, fingers drumming uncontrollably on the edge of my desk.
"What do you mean we're finished? We still have two weeks of work scheduled."
A panic was starting to mix with the cocaine and it was making my irregular heartbeat quicken.
"Well, sir, with all the work you've been doing we finished far ahead of schedule. Mr Princeton wants me to tell you that he's very pleased. He's holding a party in your honour tonight at the Brown Palace Hotel."
"No," I said, shaking my head in anger as the unwanted memory of my night with Abbi there flashed painfully in my mind like a bright sun when you're hungover. "No, no, there must be something left."
"It's all done, sir," the girl said, thinking she was making me happy. "Congratulations."
My wild, darting eyes searched my desk for something to do. All the papers were cleaned away. I scrolled through my email. No one needed my immediate attention. I leafed through my calendar and it was empty. I'd gone through my stash of blissfully numbing booze too quickly, like any foolish alcoholic. The remedy to keep my mind off of Abbi was now gone.
But I needed more. I needed more, now. My work here in Denver was done, but I knew where I could find more. I knew where I could find an endless supply, enough soul-sucking work to last me a lifetime.
"Sir?" the girl was saying on the line. "Sir, are you still there?"
"Book me a ticket to Dublin," I barked, already emptying my drawers into my briefcase.
"Sir?"
"First flight out this afternoon."
I zipped up my briefcase. Anything I left behind that I needed they could ship to me. I had to go.
"But Mr O'Sullivan, there's the party tonight for you at the Brown Pal—"
The girl jumped when I flung open the door to my office.
"First flight out this afternoon," I told her as I stalked past. "I don't care how much it costs. Email me the details."
I marched past the other executive offices, past the cubicles, past Harry Princeton who called after me in confusion. I got on the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby.
I wasn't going to any goddamn party.
Abbi
I'd never known exhaustion quite like this.
I blinked blearily at the clock on the dashboard of my car and had to squint at the green glow to stop the numbers from blurring and swaying. It was 10:15 at night and I'd just left my second job at the convenience store where I pulled a double shift. My eyelids were heavy as if weights had been tied to them. I rolled down the window so the blast of cool, early autumn air would keep me from nodding off at the wheel.
Ever since leaving Michael several weeks ago I'd been burning the fuse at both ends to make ends meet. I was always working one of my three jobs, one as a minimum wage waitress at the local Pizza Hut, one as a front desk clerk for a rundown dental office I was fairly sure was just a front for drug trafficking, and the one at the convenience store where I mostly yelled at kids trying to steal Cheetos and tried my best to stay awake. Most days I worked fourteen to sixteen hours to make what I did in an eight-hour day at Levi, Levi, & Burke.
I'd seen little of Zara since quitting my job and I told
