Page 159 of Checkmate
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Turning his back to the bar and putting an end to the idle chit-chat, Alex stared out at the pub dwellers, curling his lip in contempt. He couldn’t believe he’d lowered himself to become a day drinker. He should be in the office, ready to take on the world. Instead, he sat amongst the wasters with nothing better to do than piss the day away.
“I’ll pour another when you’re finished,” the bartender said. Alex glanced over his shoulder and reached for the drink, knocking it back.
“I’ll take it now,” he replied, leaning back against the bar.
He thought he’d been ready for that meeting. He was ready for it. Sophie had done the right thing by coming to him and making sure they didn’t blindsight him. But he never expected he’d see both of them and have to confront how well-suited they were.
It was like a punch to the gut.
For a wonderful but short moment, he’d convinced himself that Erica still cared about him. Why else would she tell Sophie about their TV show? To score points? Maybe, but to what end? Erica wasn’t the boastful type. Surely it was better for her and Marcus if he didn’t know, leaving him floundering when they revealed just who his clients had taken on.
Erica must have known Sophie would come running to him and spill the beans and give him that heads up. The idea had gripped him and given him some sort of hope that somehow, after all this time, all was not lost.
But then he’d seen them together.
It’s very rare in life to look at two people and know how perfectly suited they are for one another. And even then, it’s difficult to explain what makes them so perfect. But whatever it was, Marcus and Erica had it. Maybe it was the way they moved together, in complete sync with one another. Or the glances they exchanged, saying a thousand things without speaking one word.
Alex had never really observed them together until professionalism forced him to.
Now he knew there was no chance on this Earth that Erica would ever be his again. In fact, it was painfully obvious she had never been his in the first place.
She was always Marcus’.
Marcus was always hers.
He slammed his glass down as he finished the second drink, gesturing to the barman to get him another. After all this time, he still wasn’t over her. He doubted he ever would be. Another fact that slapped him in the face today.
While Erica was buying houses with Marcus and expanding their business and gaining more and more success every day, his finances were taking a hit. His clients were looking elsewhere. He only had to listen to Marcus in that stupid fucking meeting to understand that he was losing this game.
Erica had been his good luck charm, and now she gave that luck to someone else.
It wasn’t hard to see what was happening and how the right partner could elevate you into something more. Especially as he and Marcus had shared the same two women. Success followed Erica and impending bankruptcy seemed to cling to Sophie.
He thanked the barman as he placed the third and final drink in front of him.
It had to be the last one of the day. He still had an afternoon at the office to get through and then dinner with Sophie this evening. Holding back a sigh, he swirled the amber-coloured liquid in the glass, watching as it washed over the ice. Knocking it back, he rapped the bar with his knickers and waved his goodbyes.
Those drinks had done the trick.
His anger was long gone, and now all he felt was sadness and regret.
He had been here before, back when he had finally signed the divorce papers, only to hide them in the desk drawer once more. At least this time, he wouldn’t pretend his sadness was enough to do the ‘right’ thing. Those papers would stay in his drawer, out of sight, out of mind. He may never have the chance to be with Erica again, but he’d be damned if he let anyone else have her, either.
Reaching his office building, he glanced up towards his window and took a moment to compose himself. Now it was time to put his game face on and be the boss he knew he was. His team needed a leader, not a morose moron holding on to divorce papers in the hopes his wife wouldn’t move on more than she already had.
He took the elevator, though the stairs would have given him more time to prepare, shooting Sophie a text to let her know he was on his way. He’d asked her to gather all their minutes from previous meetings with the London Group.
His relationship with them was fragile at best, and he wanted to remind them just how much he’d given them throughout their years of working together. One terrible year shouldn’t cast such a dark cloud over his company.
The elevator pinged as he reached his floor. He grabbed his mouth spray from his jacket pocket, covering the smell of whiskey as he checked himself out in the mirror behind him.
Perfect.
Stepping out of the elevator, he frowned, immediately on edge.
The corridor was silent, with not even a whisper of his team hard at work. It wasn’t unusual for things to be quiet, but complete silence was unheard of. There wasn’t even the ringing of a phone or the low hum of a dozen computers all running at once.
Just complete nothingness.
