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Ruined
“What do you mean you think I should go talk to her? Are you mad? You of all people should know everything I’ve been through. The last thing I need to do is go talk to her!”
“Well, no, not right now,” Jonathan admitted. He had only been in Charlie’s stateroom for a few minutes, but he had easily ascertained that his friend was hammered, a rarity. “Right now, what you need to do is put that bottle of Jameson down and go sleep this one off.”
“You don’t understand, Jonathan. She. Lied. To. Me. Again!” He was standing on the outside deck, bottle in one hand, glass in the other, his shirt mostly unbuttoned, shoes off, still in his suit pants, and Jonathan was doing his best to ensure he kept his voice low enough that the other First Class passengers nearby in their staterooms couldn’t hear him.
“Why don’t you come inside, and we’ll talk about it in there?” he asked for abo
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Charlie heard a stirring from the main living quarters and emerged from the bathroom to find Jonathan with an array of potential brunch items. “Good morning,” he said. “I’m guessing you’re probably not hungry, but I did order some dry toast—which I think is probably your best option. And possibly some orange juice.”Charlie waved both items away and dropped onto the couch on his back. “Why is the sun so bright?” he asked, tossing a pillow over his face.“Let me turn it down for you,” Jonathan said sarcastically. He did, however, adjust the blinds to make sure they were closed as tightly as possible.“How much did I drink?” Charlie asked, pressing the pillow against his eyes.“From what I can tell, about a bottle of brandy, and most of a bottle of Jameson.”“Don’t ever let me drink alcohol again, all right?” he said, muffled by the pillow.
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