Zenith in Love (Zenith Series #5) - Leanne Davis Page 0,92
was before. But with Kayla, he had it. However, her care and concern also came with definite expectations and consequences. Like this. Rob coming to his apartment. He shrugged as he rubbed his head and his nerves felt raw in his gut. There was only one thing Rob could discuss with him: alcohol.
“I know your history, Rob. It’s common fodder. Punctuated by Kathy’s comments. I don’t need an intervention or a talk from you.” His tone was as dull as his brain felt. He couldn’t believe Kayla would send Rob here. Anger and disbelief boiled inside him. But then he realized that he must have scared her. Guilt rippled through his gut. He genuinely hurt her so she naturally ran to the place she felt the safest to get help. Her anchor. Her family.
Rob. So here was Rob.
“You don’t have a problem?”
“Not particularly. Nothing specific or consistent. No pattern and it’s rarely predictable. I like a drink and when I do imbibe, I do it for awhile. But I’m not—”
“Yeah. I figured. You’re not an alcoholic. But when Kayla asked, you said you didn’t know.”
“She caught me at a bad moment.”
“That’s true. Just answer me one thing and I’ll leave. My job here will be done so she can’t get mad at me.”
“Sounds good.”
“But you can’t bullshit me with the answer. You have to be truthful.”
“What?” It sounded heavenly and a wave of relief washed over him. Rob was no more interested in getting involved with Jim than he was with Rob.
“She poured out your stash?”
“Yes.” She told them! Great. “I didn’t buy anymore.”
“Oh, I believe you,” Rob said softly. “But tell me this: where’s the stash she didn’t find?”
He lifted his face as Rob finished his question. Surprised to hear it, the initial thought that he could lie and Rob wouldn’t really know crossed his mind. But Rob would know.
Sighing, Jim rose to his feet, crossing the entry, and opened the only coat closet. It was stuffed full of everything but coats. He pulled out two bottles that were stuck high up in the back. Kayla couldn’t reach them and no one could see them. He stared at them in his hands. Still full. He turned, walked over to the table and set them before Rob without a word before he sat down.
Rob fingered the bottles. Silence descended between them as Jim sat down, and he went back to staring at his fingers.
“Does that prove what you wanted to know? I mean, people have wine cellars and liquor cabinets. Beer in the refrigerator.”
“Yeah. Nothing hidden.”
“Doesn’t mean anything.” He sounded like a petulant child.
“No. Jim, it might not mean anything.”
“You don’t care if it does. You never liked me.”
“You were quite judgmental toward me. No, I didn’t particularly enjoy your company. You would have made Kathy’s life miserable, and I didn’t like that.”
“You assume the same with Kayla.”
“She seems pretty depressed right now.”
“What do you want from me?”
Rob leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. “Jim, I know a lot about you and that isn’t comfortable for you. I can see that. I respect your work. Your sermons are world-class. The shit you went through because of me makes me feel awful still. What you had to endure when you were young is abominable. I’m not trying to say I know you or understand what you’ve been through. But my daughter cares for you very much and I care about her. That’s why I’m here right now.”
“I thought you had one last question.”
Rob leaned back. “Yep. You’re right. You’re good? The hidden bottles that your… What is Kayla? Your girlfriend? Be kind and we’ll go with that description. Anyway, the stash that your girlfriend found when she discovered you passed out freaked her out so much she cleaned your apartment and emptied out all your alcohol. She literally poured it down the sink. Then she waited around for you to finally emerge from your stupor. I know all the excuses. And why it was hidden to begin with. If how you drink is normal, then why not just drink? There is no reason a pastor can’t enjoy cocktails. Lots of clergymen must own a liquor cabinet. Lots of casual drinkers have one. But you stored yours in your bedroom, right? In the bottom drawer of the dresser? Not too original, but if you tell me you’re good, I’m out of here. Tell me there was nothing strange about your behavior and I’ll leave you to it. I can’t