ME:You don’t have to apologize. You’re not Alistair the Tyrant.
ALEX:Won’t Bunny help you?
ME:That depends on how serious my father is about taking away her wellness fund.
ALEX:Sounds awful. Just got to the top of the lift. Good luck with all that!
“I always knew Billingsworth was a tosser,” Pierce says, peering over my shoulder.
“Are you reading my texts? That’s the height of bad manners,” I say, shoving my mobile into my new cheap shorts (because I never did manage to find my damn bags). I get off the couch and walk over to the mini-fridge in search of an early afternoon Stella, only to find the shelves as barren as those of that little old lady who lived in a shoe.
Pierce sniffs. “I’d say the height of bad manners would be loafing around at your brother’s house, sucking down all his booze.”
Shutting the fridge door, I turn to him. “So what did you do? Hide it?”
“It was either that or watch you drink all myClash of Crownsroyalties.”
“Fine. I have enough in my account to buy my own.” Barely, but I don’t need him to know that.
“In that case, when are you moving out?” he asks, raising one eyebrow.
“As soon as I figure out where I’m going.”
“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you’re doing something with your life.”
“Iamdoing something with my life. Enjoying it.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Are too.”
“Are not.”
“Are too. At least I was until someone hid the alcohol.”
“Leo—”
Holding up one hand, I say, “Spare me the you-can-do-anything-you-set-your-mind-to speech. I dropped out of life for a reason. It was too hard.”
“Christ, you really are full of horse shit,” he says. “Listen, I’m going to tell you two things, and you have no choice but to listen because if you don’t, you’ll be out on your arse. First, you’re clearly miserable without that lovely concierge woman of yours.”
“Am not.”
“Yes, you definitely are. We all see the moping around you do when you think no one is looking.”
“I don’t mope!”
“Yes, I’m afraid you do,” Mrs. Bailey says, walking through the room carrying a basket of laundry.
“I’m having a blast!”
“No, you’re not!” she calls over her shoulder as she disappears down the hall.
I start to speak, but Pierce beats me to the punch. “You’re miserable. And in case you’ve forgotten, you were actually much happier when you had a real purpose in life. Maybe being a bellboy isn’t the most glamorous of jobs, but from what I hear and saw, you were good at it, and that’s because you like helping people.” Shuddering, he adds, “I’m not sure why, but for some strange reason, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“God, you’re an arse. You’re a helpful person, and you bloody well know it. Now, get out in the world and find a way to put that to use so you can get Brianna back.”
