The lights are all on when I exit out onto the fifth floor. I cut left off the elevator to head clockwise around the perimeter of the office space. My office is to the right, but it’s my habit every work morning to walk by Andrew and Avril’s offices to say hello. It’s not just a courtesy I’m bestowing; I truly love my best friends turned partners, and I like starting my day by seeing them. Call me a bit of a sap, but they’re the closest things I have to family, and I never take that for granted.
I come to Avril’s office first. I’m completely surprised to find the lights still off, meaning she hasn’t arrived yet. It’s shocking, actually. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve beaten Avril into the building since I brought her into the company fourteen years ago.
Pushing past her office, I head down to Andrew’s and I can see as I approach from the long westward hall that the lights are on in his office. Maybe Avril is in there with him.
His door is open. When I stick my head in to say good morning, I’m once again shocked not to see Avril. Andrew is behind his desk, sipping on his coffee and reading something on his computer screen.
“What’s up, man?” I say, and his head pops up. An easy smile comes to his face because that’s just the way Andrew is. Happy, chill, and hardly ever in a bad mood, I kid you not.
“Morning,” he says cheerily.
“Avril’s not in yet,” I reply, stepping fully into his office.
“Weird, right?” Andrew says, but he doesn’t seem overly bothered. “Maybe her alarm didn’t go off or something.”
“I guess,” I say with a shrug and decide not to worry about it. It’s still an hour before the main doors open, and it’s not like we have set work hours for the executives. We all work upward of eighty hours a week, so no one gives a fuck if you decide to have a lazy morning.
Except… that’s not like Avril.
Andrew doesn’t respond, but that’s only because our attention is taken by the sound of our phones chiming with simultaneous texts. I pull my phone out of my pocket while Andrew nabs his from the desk. I see it’s a text from Avril addressed to us both.
Won’t be in today.
Andrew’s gaze snaps back to me, and his eyes are immediately filled with concern when they lock with mine. Avril has never—and I mean never—just taken a day off without some type of long-term planning. She’s never taken a sick day, once working through the flu while puking at her desk. Never taken a mental-health day. Never played hooky to go catch a ball game. She’s not just the hardest-working woman I know, but the hardest-working person.
Period.
Sometimes, I think she should be the president and CEO of this company rather than just the chief operations officer, because she’s just that fucking phenomenal.
“I’m going to her house,” Andrew says as he pushes from his desk chair.
“I’m coming with you,” I say without hesitation as I turn for the door and precede him out of it.
No way in hell Avril can possibly think to send a text like that and we wouldn’t come running, although I know she’s going to be pissed when we show up on her doorstep.
♦
Avril lives in Summerlin. I know the area well because my house is also in this suburb, but mine is much larger and cost a few million more. Andrew doesn’t like a lot of space and prefers a condo in the city, but he spends ample time at my house or Avril’s nonetheless.
Andrew pulls in first, and I park right behind him. We drove separately because circumstances might require one of us to stay and one of us to get back to the office.
Avril’s house reflects her personality. Modern, sleek lines and minimalist design. Built of brown stucco and stacked stone, it looks like someone laid three levels of different-sized boxes on top of one another. Her landscaping is almost “barren” with her front yard comprised of brown gravel and a few cacti. The only nod to any real color is her swimming pool in the back, which she religiously swims in morning and night for exercise.
Given the simplicity of design, it really stands out that there are three large suitcases on the front porch, several boxes on the concrete walkway leading from the driveway to the front door, and a pile of clothing dumped near a large agave plant off to the side of the front porch.
“What the fuck?” I hear Andrew say as I step out of my car. His eyes sweep the front yard for a moment before they narrow determinedly on the front door. He pushes past me. Before he can even reach the front porch, the door opens and Avril comes out, carrying another large box through.
She sees Andrew immediately and comes to an abrupt halt.
And then she sways backward slightly, seemingly corrects herself, only to sway forward a bit. Her eyes look glassy and bloodshot. The thick crop of blond bangs that normally come down to her eyebrows is slicked back with sweat, the rest of her hair pulled into a lopsided ponytail.
“What are you two doing here?” she asks, and the aggressiveness in her tone doesn’t hide the slightest of slurs.
“Are you drunk?” Andrew returns, his face aghast at what he sees. Neither of us can remember the last time we’d seen Avril drink to excess. Was it college?
“Unfortunately, I’m sobering up,” she replies dryly and drops the box on the front porch. She then turns around and walks back inside.
Andrew and I quickly follow her in. Avril heads straight to a wet bar that separates the kitchen and living room in the open-space design. She starts pulling glasses out from underneath—wineglasses, martini glasses, beer mugs—and drops them unceremoniously into a box on the floor. Each one shatters as it meets gravity.
“What the hell is going on?” Andrew practically growls as he goes to Avril. He catches her wrist before she can toss another glass into the box.
Even through the glaze in her eyes, I can see a tinge of fire starting to flicker. Still, her voice is somewhat controlled as she says, “I’m cleaning out some stuff.”
“Looks like it is most of Jamie’s stuff you’re cleaning out,” I observe as I stroll over to the box on the floor and look inside at the shattered glass. It’s Jamie’s personal bar set he brought when he moved in with Avril almost two years ago. He likes to entertain and have all his friends over whenever possible.
“Pretty much,” she says with a snicker that in no way sounds amused, but rather bitter. She reaches for another glass, but Andrew deftly takes it from her hand. After sitting it on the bar, he grabs onto her elbow and steers her into the living room. Right to the couch where he gives her a tiny push on her chest to make her fall onto the cushion. Avril immediately slumps back with a sigh, and that tells me she has no fight in her.
I move to stand on the other side of the coffee table opposite of her while Andrew sits down beside her. He lays a hand on her shoulder and squeezes. “Talk to us, Av. What’s going on?”
Her head drops, which conceals her eyes, and she sighs. Twirling her fingers around one another while holding her hands on her lap, she says, “I caught Jamie cheating on me last night.”
“Fucking prick,” I mutter as I round the coffee table to sit on the edge, my knees just inches from Avril’s.
Andrew’s face goes red with fury. “How did you find out?”
Avril raises her face, and her gaze looks a little sharper. “I wasn’t due in from my trip to San Diego until today, but I managed to get out early. When I got in last night, he was right there in our bed.”