I splashed some cold water on my face and under my armpits, trying to wash some of the stink of scotch and sweat off me. Running my hand over my chin I decided against a shave, thinking my stubble wasn't as shabby as it could be. Leaving the bathroom and the toothbrush behind I opened the small closet next to my desk, where I hung my suits.
I only had one clean suit left on the rack, so I ripped free the plastic wrap and laid it out on my desk. It was a dark gray suit and pants with a white button down shirt and black tie. The suit was a bit worn at the elbows but serviceable and the shirt was still more white than yellow so all together it wasn't bad.
My office had become my home over the last 6 months. Times had gotten tight so it was either give up drinking and smoking and keep my shitty apartment or move in here. Overall it wasn't bad. At one point this building had been an apartment but back in the 70's they had converted it to a series of low rent office spaces. The neighborhood wasn't great but it still had an actual shower in the bathroom left over. In my office the couch could pull out into a bed plus it was separated by a door that led to an actual reception area. I didn't use it much now as I had let go of my receptionist a few years ago. Mostly I just met clients out there now, mainly so they didn't realize that I fucking lived here now.
I grabbed my gun out of the top drawer of my desk, a 9mm automatic. I'd had it a long time, since my days on the force, and had used it more times than I cared to remember. I fixed it into a shoulder holster before shrugging into my coat. I grabbed my hat and coat, a long black job that made me look like I was straight out of an old movie. I tucked my smokes into my pocket and opened the door that lead out into the reception area that separated my office from the hallway.. Outside was a woman, a beautiful woman and my world was about to go to hell.
End of Line.