Breaking Down

Chapter 2

2

Tyler

I really didn't know why I had come.

Scratch that. I knew why. I needed a break from all the f*****g problems in my life and when Bia told me it was Garrett's birthday party … well, he had been a good friend from the moment I met him a couple of years ago. I should be at his party.

But now that I was here, I wasn't so sure I had done the right thing.

I sat around a long table with my ex-classmates, and they all talked about classes and internships and graduation. A couple of them had already graduated last semester and told us about their jobs and aspirations—one was working with a big time veterinarian, one was working at the university animal hospital and was going to start teaching, and one was planning on opening his own clinic.

I groaned internally, trying not to show how much it hurt me. I tipped my beer bottle and dried it in a second.

“I’m gonna get another beer,” I muttered to no one in particular, and then stood from our table and took a step toward the bar.

“Hey, Ty.”

I turned toward the voice and grinned. “Hey, Garrett.” I had already told him happy birthday at the beginning of the party, but he was moving fast, going from guest to guest. “How have you been, man?”

We clasped hands and bumped shoulders.

“I’m good, good. How about you? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah …” I sighed.

Garrett's brows furrowed. “How … are things? How are you holding up?”

I suppressed a groan. Garrett was one of the few people who knew the real extent of my problems. He wasn’t being nosy, I told my defensive side. He was asking out of sympathy. “It’s … okay, I guess. As well as it can be in this situation.”

Garrett nodded. “And you?”

“What about me?”

“How are you doing?”

I shrugged and repeated, “As well I as I can in this situation.”

Garrett clasped my shoulder. “Hey, man, I said it before and I’ll say it again. If you need anything, don’t hesitate. I’m here, okay?”

I nodded as a lump choked my throat. “Thanks,” I forced out.

Garrett glanced around, smiling. “No plus one?”

“You mean a girl?” I snorted. “With all the s**t in my life, do you really think I’ve been worried about girls?”

Garrett's smile faded. “Probably not. Sorry about giving you a hard time.”

“It’s okay.” I was getting used to it. “I’m gonna …” I pointed to my empty bottle.

“Sure, sure, go ahead.” He stepped to the side to let me pass. “Talk to you later.”

I nodded as I walked past him, aiming for the bar. I took the only vacant stool at the bar counter, beside a girl with pretty, long dark hair. The bartender was right there and took my order.

I showed him my empty bottle. “Another, please.”

Nodding, the bartender took the bottle from me. As he turned around to get me a beer, I glanced to the side and found the girl staring at me.

I straightened. “Hi,” I said, my voice harder than usual.

“Hm, hi,” she said, turning her stool a little more toward me. “Here for Garrett's party, huh?” She had an accent, almost like Bia's.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

She chuckled. “Sorry. That was quite obvious, wasn't it?” She tilted her head and the light coming from the pendant fixtures over the counter hit her face exactly right. I was shocked by the intensity of her blue eyes. They were incredible, almost unreal. “How do you know Garrett?”

“We used to go to vet school together,” I said as the bartender placed my beer in front of me. “Thanks,” I muttered to him before he went to take someone else’s order.

“Used to?” the girl asked.

Frustration knotted my shoulders. That was one topic I hated talking about. “Yeah. Long story. How about you?”

“I'm Bia’s cousin.”

“Oh, so you're from Brazil too?”

“Sim,” she said. That explained the accent. She smiled, and I realized that not only were her eyes pretty, but her entire face was. Her dark hair and bright eyes and red lips went really well with her fair skin and delicate features. “Where are my manners?” She stuck her hand between us, bringing me back from my thoughts. “Hi, I'm Gabriela. Though, call me Gabi. I prefer Gabi.”

I took her soft hand in my calloused one. “Hi, I'm Tyler. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” She pulled her hand away.

I took a sip of my beer, trying to think of what to say next. I hadn’t talked to a girl, other than dog and cat owners who stopped by the clinic, in months. I used to be good at this, at flirting and earning easy smiles. Now, I felt like everyone was watching me, waiting for me to f**k up my life a little more.

Shit, I was overthinking this. Just talk to her.

It didn’t have to mean anything or lead anywhere. Just a conversation with someone other than my noisy neighbors, or with Lena, the clinic’s secretary.

I opened my mouth to ask her what she thought of the U.S. when my cell phone rang. With a frown, I fished my phone from my jeans, and without looking at the screen, answered the call.

“Hello?”

“May I speak with Tyler Reid, please?”

“This is Tyler.”

“Tyler, my name is Will Boris and I’m with the collector’s office.”

Oh, s**t.

I turned my stool so my back was to Gabi. “How can I help you?”

“Well, sir, I’m calling you because I have here four of your unpaid bills, and I would like to negotiate a payment.”

“Mr. Boris, I know about the bills.” And the many others stacked in a neat pile in my apartment. “However, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, okay? And a lot of bills to pay. I'll get to all of them. Eventually.” I hoped. The situation wasn’t looking pretty, and to be honest, I didn’t think I would get to all the bills even if I lived to be a hundred—and worked until my last breath.

“Sir, I understand you may be in a hard position right now, but—”

“Listen,” I said, raising my voice. Before Gabi heard me, I stood and walked out of the room, into the restaurant’s entrance hallway. “I’m doing what I can, okay? Send the damn bills to me. I’ll pay them when I can.”

I turned off the call and let out a deep, shaky breath. This was my damn life now. I had to learn to deal with these calls and the bills I couldn’t pay, or I would die of an ulcer or heart attack before I made it to thirty. At least if I did, all the debt would die with me. That was one solution.

I shook my head, ashamed for thinking such things.

Coming to this party had been a bad idea. First, I felt irritated seeing my ex-classmates happy. Then, I got this damn call, further souring my mood. Besides, I was here wasting precious minutes, hours, when I could be working and earning some money. I knew it wouldn’t be enough—it would never be enough—but every little bit helped.

By the time I reached my truck in the parking lot behind the restaurant, I had already arranged to take a few hours of the overnight shift at the vet clinic.