20 GRIFFIN“It’s a good move for you.”
Layne’s words are ringing—loudly—inside my pounding head. I press my palms to the hardwood floor, trying to brace myself against the spinning. f**k. The bottle of Four Roses sits nearby, only a finger’s worth of bourbon left at the bottom.
When did I end up on the floor? Goddamn, what time is it?
“It’s a good move for you.” Those cruel words are looping like a broken record in my head.
Yeah, maybe it is a good move for me, Layne. If I was a f*****g robot with no emotions. But not all of us are heartless workaholics who only care about career advancement.
God, I’ve resorted to name calling. I chuckle, the alcohol in my system helping me ignore the sudden intense churning of my stomach. If I only cared about my job, if that was my only source of hap
