Page 19 of Bene

He figured … at least he would get some food into his stomach, and hopefully get rid of the lingering headache. Then, he might be up to calling back some of the people whose calls he’d missed earlier in the day. Of course, nothing could ever be simple for him.

His food, and third shot of whiskey, had just been placed in front of him by the server when he lifted his head in enough time to watch a familiar figure pull up to the front of the restaurant. He sighed, regret filling him instantly. He shouldn’t have chosen this restaurant to work through this goddamn hangover. Not when his family—but especially Marcus—had a direct contact to all of his businesses, and probably had a bead out on Bene.

Marcus stepped inside the business and took a moment to survey the busy floor and tables while he undid the buttons on his suit jacket. Bene swore it was like looking into a younger mirror of his father whenever his oldest brother was around. He often dressed the same as their father, and even carried himself with the same sway and gait, too.

“Drinking again, are you?”

Bene tried not to scowl as his brother came to stand next to his two-person table beside the large bay windows, and failed like a fucker. He’d hoped that if he kept his head down, and focused on the plate in front of him, Marcus might pass over him and not even realize he was there. Obviously, he hoped for too much.

Surprise, surprise.

“No, I—”

“There’s a shot glass in front of you, and you smell like you spent the night bathing in … what is that, Fireball?”

Ugh.

“Someone spilled their drink on me last night.”

“And you didn’t grab a different jacket?” Marcus demanded. “You what, left the house wearing the same shit you wore the night before?”

Bene sighed, set his fork down, and proceeded to pinch the bridge of his nose in an effort to calm the headache that had come back without any warning at all. All it took was the sound of someone droning on—lecturing him, again—and he didn’t want to deal at all. His body decided to revolt, and that was that.

“Could you … I don’t know, shut up?”

Marcus took the seat across from Bene instead. “Not particularly. Beni called me earlier; said you were fucked up this morning when he called. I didn’t mention it to him, or Dad … or Ma, but I happen to know you’ve been on a bender for a couple of weeks now, right?”

Bene wet the corner of his mouth with his tongue, suddenly wishing he had another shot to down right about now instead of just the one sitting in front of him. Besides, he didn’t think it would be a good idea if he did pick that shot up, and down it, all things considered.

“What about it?”

“Am I right?” Marcus asked.

“I wouldn’t call it a … bender.”

But yes.

Two weeks.

“So, since Beni got married,” his brother urged.

Bene let out a hard breath, and glowered at the glare of his reflection in the window. Two weeks. In the grand scheme, it might not seem like a long time. And hell, before Beni got married, he’d been staying in Chicago without Bene. Except for the longest time, he figured his twin would eventually come back.

That’s what they did, right?

The two of them came back together.

He didn’t come back.

So yeah, two weeks. That’s how long he’d been trying to distract himself from, well, everything. His life. All the shit that changed. Anything he didn’t want to deal with. The very fact he now lived alone, and his brother was gone—living in Chicago with his new wife, new life, and without Bene. It just fucked him straight up, and he didn’t know how to deal.

So, he didn’t.

At all.

Was it right?

Probably not.