Three's Company

37. Distance

Fourteen days. Two weeks. Half a month.

His therapist had told him once before that he was addicted to counting the days and fixating too much on the limitations of life instead of living in the moment. Heath apparently did this with everything, the main being life and money—he feared there was a expiration date of sorts.

He guessed his therapist was accurate in her assumptions as he entered the bustling restaurant with a permanent frown planted across his face.

Two weeks is how long he had gone without his meds and he was certain it was catching up to him. He had never felt so numb and depressed in his thirty years.

The small smidge of happiness he felt was in the time Theo had come and stayed with him. They spoke and drank like old times, it was fun whilst it lasted and now he was back to real life.

His real job that sucked a lot of life out of his already lifeless body.

The same one he was forced to spend a Friday night in a fancy restaurant with a client he knew well enough. It was one of his snooty farm clients, he was trying to sort out a friendly get together so that the woman was able to build a better rapport with him.

After all, he was representing her in a nasty domestic abuse case. She was hesitant, and already hard to work with.

He asked her if she would feel more comfortable if they went for a less formal meeting and ate food whilst speaking about case facts.

It sounded strange and out of pocket, but in his world, many of his clients needed buttering up so that he could work his magic in the courts with accuracy.

The woman, thirty-five year old Missy Jenkins, was by no means taking this meeting as a date. She was still fresh from her toxic relationship, and the last thing she wanted was to be around another man.

There was no other intention to this dinner than to discuss the case and what needed to be done to achieve the outcome she wanted and deserved.

"Mr. Callahan, lovely to see you again. Your client is seated in your usual spot, and might I warn you, she isn't very happy with the air con. Or where the bathroom is situated. Or the fact that you are late by one minute."

Client, he echoed. See even the rehearsed waiter had seen the ordeal many times and understood how the nights went.

Heath offered him a heavy groan, moving to place a wad of cash into the young boy's chest, patting him. "Thanks, Seth. You can turn the air con on higher for all I care."

He wasn't trying to be a dick, but the devil of a client had sent him numerous messages on his journey over asking him why he called himself a lawyer if he couldn't even figure out what fine dining meant.

Of course he fucking knew they weren't fine dining to her expectations. He had picked the easiest place for her to come to.

The boy grinned, nodding and pocketing the money in no time.

He stepped out of the way to let the older man in, and Heath albeit prepared himself for the worst.

He walked over to the very back of the restaurant, away from a lot of the bustle and spotted the bottle blonde watching him with the hardest glare.

"It's about time. I was this close to getting up and leaving, you say you're the guy to trust but I'm seriously doubting with the way you treat me."

He cleared his throat. "Good evening, Missy. My apologises for running late, traffic was crazy out there."

Blinking, he offered his hand out over the table for her to shake to which she refuse.

"Just sit so we can get this over and done with. I want him to suffer and I want to rinse him of everything he has." She ranted, eyes glazing as thoughts of what she wanted became like gold to her.