Chapter 4: We're Not Okay

“Hello. Earth to Ree. Mayday, mayday. Snap out of it!”

That last exclamation made Reesa jump in her seat. Blinking rapidly, she tried her best to reorient herself to her surroundings. A few seconds passed before she remembered that she was in the office cafeteria, at her favorite table by the baked goods station, and sitting across from her good friend, Harper Galletti, Marketing Director at large.

They didn’t look pleased with her.

“Where did you go?” Harper asked. They pointed to Reesa’s uneaten meal, which consisted of a lonely peanut butter sandwich and a reusable water bottle. “And what is that?”

“I’m sorry, I spaced out. And what do you mean? This is my lunch.”

“It’s sad is what it is,” Harper said. “You’re starting to scare me. You’ve been eating the same thing every day for a month. You used to at least get salads here.”

“Only because you said I should eat more vegetables. I don’t even like salads.”

“Come on, be serious. What’s going on with you? You don’t eat well, your mind wanders all the time, it’s been forever since you’ve shown me a new sketch, and even longer since you’ve asked about a campaign. I’m offended. We just got a boatload of good publicity for our ethics, sustainability, and dietary accommodations. Think that happens by accident? No. The world only knows Sartori is awesome because of me and my team of intrepid rock stars.”

“I bow to your brilliance.”

“So sarcastic,” Harper said. “Please continue.”

“Leave me alone and eat your zoodles.”

“You want some? Wei mixed them with avocado pesto for me.”

Reesa resisted the urge to scratch her scalp, which was all but screaming for a Wash Day, and sent Harper a confused look. “Didn’t you break up?”

“We did, but who lets a little thing like breaking up ruin a friendship?”

Reesa let out a sound halfway between a sob and a snicker.

“Oh, yeah. Myko and Daniela.” Harper grimaced. “That is one party I’m glad I couldn’t make it to.”

Reesa took a sip of water. “It was a difficult night for sure.”

“Even so, I can’t help but think Myko’s better off. Maybe I'm biased since he’s my mentor and all, but I never really saw it for him and Daniela.”

Reesa shrugged. “You know more about how they used to be than I do.”

“True, but I’m sure you know more than the rest of us now,” Harper said. Their eyes narrowed. “You and Myko are pretty joined at the hip these days.”

“For work, yes. Not otherwise.” She’d even gone back to calling him ‘Mr. Sartori’ in her attempt to reinforce the lines.

The two friends shifted gears, focusing on eating until Harper began to talk again. “Myko worries me almost as much as you do,” they said. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that he hasn’t lost interest in the company, but from what I can see, losing his wife and poor excuse for a buddy has worn on him.”

Reesa sighed as her phone alarm signaled the end of her lunch break. “Speaking of which, I'd better go. I'll see you later.” She got up to give them a hug, and slowly walked away.

“Hey!” Harper called after her. “Tell Myko you were my work spouse first!”

***

That evening, Reesa went to bed without dinner, and was close to falling asleep when her phone rang.

“No,” she said into her pillow.

The phone kept ringing.

Reesa groaned, altered her position, and grabbed the noisy device. Myko’s name loomed bright on the screen. For an instant, she thought of rejecting the call, but ended up answering it anyway.

“Yes, Mr. Sartori?”

“Um, hi. I’m not Mr. Sartori, but I have his phone. Are you Reesa?”

She felt her body grow cold. “Yes, but who are you? Is Myko with you? Is he alright?”

“I’m Lyle, and he's fine, but overserved. He came here alone, he’s not very coherent, and his phone wasn’t locked. Your name was the first one I saw.”

“Okay,” Reesa said, her brain working overtime to figure out her next steps. “Where exactly is ‘here’?”

“The Harbor Room. You know it?”

“No, is it a restaurant?”

“More like a bar. I’m a mixologist.”

“Oh,” Reesa said. She’d never been to a bar.

“I’ll text you the address.”

***

Two hours later, Reesa was holding a laughing, stumbling Myko up on one side while Kaleb took care of the other. With each of his giggles, she considered quitting.

“Did you see him? Did you see the man with two faces?” Myko asked.

Neither employee answered but concentrated on getting him through the front door of his hotel suite.

“One eye on each face kept looking at me. It’s very rude. Rude to stare, isn’t it?”

Continuing to ignore him, they got Myko settled on the sofa.

“I can get him cleaned up and in bed, if you want,” Kaleb said, but he sounded far from sincere.

“I think it’s better if we just get him out of his jacket and leave him where he is. I'll look after him until he sobers up so you can get home.”

Kaleb lowered his voice to a whisper. “Are you sure you want to be alone with him like this?”

“I wouldn’t say I ‘want’ to,” she whispered back. “But he’s not the type to get angry when he’s drunk, right?”

“Nah, he’s either happy or sad. Mostly sad. This is kind of a breath of fresh air.”

They paused for a moment to listen to Myko sing a clearly improvised tune, the subject of which was Rhode Island Reds.

Kaleb snorted. “Is he singing about chickens?”

“They are our state bird, and he actually sounds good,” she said, a begrudging smile on her face. “Look, go home. Get some sleep. And wake up ready for your LSATs.”

Kaleb beamed. “Thanks, Reesa.”

“And then there were two,” Reesa said once Kaleb was gone. Myko had fallen asleep, which gave her a chance to search for clues regarding this latest development. Sweeping the room with her eyes, she saw nothing to help her on his person. But to his far right on the sofa, the answer presented itself.

It was Myko and Daniela’s final divorce decree.

“I feel for you,” Reesa said as she sat in a now familiar armchair. “I realize it’s been one thing after another. But I have problems too, and watching you destroy yourself can’t be one of them.” Sliding off her shoes, she curled up in the chair. “Tomorrow, we’re going to have a talk, and depending on how you respond, it may be the last time.”