Free Lush by Chris Adonn Page A

either.
    “Sure,” he said,
completely and infuriatingly relaxed. “You got beer?”
    It was a testament to
the strength of her willpower that she didn’t snap at him again.
Instead she smiled politely and led the way to the bar in her
games-come-TV room. “Yep, Heineken okay?”
    “It’s weird,” he
commented, looking the room over. “This space is definitely a
chick’s den, but seeing a pool table, foosball, and dart board is
unexpected.”
    She regarded her den
with an analytical eye. The cream, turquoise, purple and pink ’70s
style wallpaper was a bit of a giveaway, but the flat screen was
huge and the Bose sound system was the kind of thing a guy would
generally favour.
    Coming round the bar
she handed Mike his drink then took a seat on the stool two down
from the one he settled on. “Yeah, well I always was a tomboy. The
rest of my place is more conventional. The interior decorator I
hired gave it subtle feminine touches. No traces of the real me
anywhere but here.”
    “So is this the only
room that represents the real you?”
    “I guess so. This is
the only room that I decorated and furnished on my own. This is
where I come when I want to think, or just forget that I’m a proper
adult who needs to make adult decisions.”
    “What is that supposed
to mean?”
    Oh, just that I need
to put a stop to this thing between us before you hurt me
again. “I don’t know,” she said instead. “Probably just that
sometimes the stresses from work and life get to me and I start
questioning what I’m doing, where I’m going. You know, I only drew
up a will a few months ago because my lawyers forced me too. I
haven’t even given my retirement proper thought. Do I retire at
fifty like my folks, or do I wait till I have to stop working? And
if I retire young, how do I know how much of a nest egg will be
enough? The economy is unstable and inflation is rising. And oh
God, don’t get me started on the medical system. If something
hap–”
    Michael cut her off
with a sharp whistle. “Jesus woman! Stop before you make my brain
bleed. Talk about twenty-five going on fifty-five. No wonder you
need a place to escape. Sounds to me like you’ve given everything
far too much thought.”
    “What’s that supposed
to mean?” she asked, mirroring his earlier question and bemused
tone. She actually knew exactly what he meant. She was babbling on
about things that she never discussed with anyone but her
folks.
    Like her dad, Michael
obviously thought she was nuts to be worrying about things that few
other twenty-five-year-olds worried about. But her mom seemed to
understand her. Women were so much more practical than men.
    “It means you need to
stop trying to control everything, and you sure as hell have to
stop overthinking your life. Start enjoying it before it passes you
by.”
    Riiight . She
gave him her best give-me-a-break stare. “That’s rich. I don’t see
you taking your own advice.
    “Excuse me?”
    “All you do is
work.”
    “Says who?”
    “Your sister for one.
She misses you, Mike.”
    He took a long sip from
his bottle and nodded. “I know. And you’re right, I need to make
some changes.”
    “Good. So let’s get to
that honest conversation you wanted. You can ask the first
question.”
    He laughed but it held
no trace of real humour. “What? You mean this wasn’t already an
honest conversation?”
    Fighting down the urge
to roll her eyes she took a swig of her beer and gave him a patient
smile. “It was, but I’d rather have some direction than just ramble
on. Now ask your question so I can ask mine. You must have had
something particular in mind when you proposed this
tête-à-tête.”
    “Fair enough.” He
pinned her down with a very penetrating gaze. “What was your ‘not
that pretty’ comment about on Friday night? It’s been driving me
crazy.”
    She tried to think up a
way to sidestep the tiresome question but instead felt her temper
flare. “Why are you so fixated on it? I told