Chapter 8: Blame It On The Alcohol

Jasmine's POV

I received a phone call from my little sister right after I stepped out from my place of employment. She needed me to come get her and take her home from a bar-- she'd had a few drinks. And by a few drinks, I mean she'd been heavily drinking and now she was intoxicated.

I found the bar after walking for half an hour. She was sitting at a table surrounded by beer bottles. Her eyes were slightly closed and she was holding onto a beer bottle like she was holding on for dear life.

What the hell?

"Zen, what are you doing?" I asked furiously, embarrassed to see her in such an unusual state.

"Hi *hiccup* Jassy," she answered.

"Come on, get up. I'm taking you home!"

"No, I'm not ready yet anymore. I need to finish drinking this beer."

"What the hell are you doing Zenia?" I asked angrily.

"Drinking this beer. I just told you that. Duh!"

"Zenia, listen to me. You need to stop this. This isn't going to solve anything."

"Yes it would! Our mother is dying and you're not doing anything about it! Just leave me alone!"

"Zen, what do you want me to do about it? I can't afford the transplant, and we shouldn't be having this conversation here!"

My sister yanked herself up from the chair and stormed out of the bar. I wanted to rush after her but I was frozen. I slumped as I reflected what she said about our mother. Mom was still at the hospital, attached to machines in order to keep her lungs functioning and keep her alive.

I began to drink the rest of my sister's remaining beer. Then another and another and another. I was doing what she had been doing-- getting loaded with alcohol.

I was almost at my eighth beer when my boss appeared out of nowhere and seemed deeply concerned about me. I always wanted this, his friendly attention instead of the professionalism and barking orders at the office.

Next thing I knew, I awoke in his bed, naked and wrapping my body with his bed sheet. I had no memories or recollection of what happened last night or how we got here, but I was definitely not dreaming about it. It was real. The overall idea made him displeased and unkind at my presence in his bedroom, and in his house.

I left after he asked if I wasn't going home. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I went to the main door and walked out onto his long driveway. I didn't even have the courage to look around his mansion or the yard. I was too blinded by the tears that kept on coming. The security guards at the gate let me out without a greeting or a word. 

I walked until I got to the main street and took a bus heading to Brooklyn and to my apartment.

When I got home I felt a little better to be back to a familiar place where no one could dismiss me or be shocked that I was there. My sister was sleeping on the couch. 

I went into the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea and some toast. I sat down at the kitchen table as I tried to remember what happened last night. I remembered my sister calling me to come get her. I remembered when she lashed out at me in the bar. I remembered not going after her; instead, I drank her beer. I remembered Mr. Hollen talking to me and me talking back to him.

That was all I remembered. I didn't remember how I got to his house or how I got into his bed. Naked!

Oh my God! Did we have sex?

My head was clouded with thoughts but I found myself smiling at the remembrance of him wrapped in his silk gold bed sheets that matched his perfectly tanned complexion. His grey eyes popping at me-- in a bad way-- when he saw me in his bed, and his messy hair falling just over his eyes. He looked perfect and his body looked so lean and fit. I just wanted to lick his abs and lay on his rock hard chest. Oh, how I envied the women who already got the opportunity of doing such.

"You didn't come home last night. Where did you sleep?" a voice startled me. 

My sister had woken up.

"I slept at a friend's house."

"You don't have any friends."

"Yes I do."

"Hmm! My head is killing me!" she said with a shout as she covered her forehead with her palms.

I went into the medicine cabinet and found some headache revilers. I gave them to her. She drank a dose then I gave her a club soda to help with the upset stomach pain I knew she was having.

"Thanks," she said and went back to the couch and put on the television.

I looked at my phone and saw a missed call from Mr. Hollen. My heart skipped a beat.

Should I return his call? I asked myself.

I was curious to know why he called and what he wanted to say to me; also, there was something I needed off my chest. 

I called him back. He answered on the third ring.

"I'm just returning your call," I started.

"Oh yeah, are you alright?" he asked with concern.

"Yes I am. How are you?" My heart was beating so quickly, wondering if he'd show me the compassion I was looking for or shut me down because he was already taken.

"Hmm. I'm fine. Listen..." He began to say something that I knew was coming, but I had to let him know how I felt about last night.

"Mr. Hollen, before you say anything else, I want you to know that what happened between us last night--" I began but he cut me off.

"What happened last night was a mistake. We both had too much to drink and one thing led to another. It was an act of alcohol and nothing more. I don't have any feelings for you whatsoever. You're my employee and that's all you'll ever be. I just wanted you to know that," he added then he hung up.

My heart fell to my toes.