Beg Me

I push myself off the leather office chair. I walk toward the window and analyze the smudge marks we made.

“Another attempt to make you mine. Is it working?”

Another emoji response, followed by:

“It’s working out okay.”

The city below is empty. The cars have dissipated and turned to their respective carports and garages. The air is cold and breezy. Every so often, you can hear the honking of someone’s horn, or the yell of someone walking on the streets.

Detroit is its own place. It’s different,

but it’s my home. If there’s something I could do to fix this city, I would. The development industry isn’t doing much for the people, I know.

I walk back to my work papers. There’s another hotel project in the works. This time, we’re headed for New York City. It’ll be the biggest deal of my life if it works out.

I could retire and buy a new house, somewhere distant. Somewhere away from all this crap.

I’ve been thinking about the town of Monroe, but I can’t put my finger on why that is…

I picture her smile again. It’s unique.

It’s her.

Fuck, I have to stop fantasizing about this relationship. It may be the only excitement I can hold onto, but that doesn’t mean I need to fall in love.

I’m in my 40s, anyway. It’s past the time for that. I need to just live a little and have some fun.

My eyes open to the bright sun in the Detroit sky.

The cars are out, and a plethora of people are roaming the streets. “Fuck, I fell asleep?” I ask myself, wiping my eyes.

I’m strewn across the floor, feet propped up on the leather chair. My bottle of brandy is open on the table. My back is sore as shit.

I must have finished the bottle last night because I remember nothing past texting her.

I glance at my nearly dead phone and sigh when I see the two texts:

“I can’t get to bed. Want to talk on the phone?”

“Okay, guess not. Night.”

Night.

Well, I blew it last night.

There’s a knock on my door. In comes another guy from the team. He’s got a fresh stack in his hand.

He drops it onto my desk.

“More?” I ask.

“It’s a big project, sir. Hundreds of jobs. The company is set to make a billion in the first year,” he says.

He eyes me funny.

“What?” I ask.

“Did you sleep here last night?”