by Jessica Ames
So, I don’t need this talk right now; what I do need is more gin, and a lot of it. This conversation is going to take a ton of booze to forget.
Emily eyes me like I’m a specimen in the zoo. “You definitely need a man.”
“This isn’t the nineteen-fifties; there’s more to life than marriage and men.”
And while this is true, I am lying a little. I miss waking up with someone, having a partner to share adventures with, and I hate going back to my flat alone.
“Of course there is more to life,” she says as she swirls the Martini in her own glass. “But I’m talking about having a bloody good time, Sades, and if you happen to meet someone along the way… well, that would be a bonus. You’ve got a lot to give, sweetie, and I don’t think you should don the spinster cape just yet. Which is why I signed you up for a dating app.”
I blink at her. Then I blink again as my brain tries and fails to make sense of her statement.
“You did what?”
The straw goes between perfectly plumped lips before she sucks back a mouthful of drink. “I signed you up for a dating app. Use it, don’t use it—it’s up to you, but honestly, darling, I think you might be surprised.”
I glare at her—in fact, I gawk daggers at her, hoping my ears are playing tricks on me. Why I think this I have no idea because Emily is nothing if not impulsive and she would have set this up impulsively. She would have also done it because she wants to help me, which is the only reason I keep my temper in check—that and the alcohol. That is having a lovely calming effect.
“You seriously signed me up for a dating app?”
She grins at me. “You never know, you might find a Prince Charming you don’t want to tell to fuck off.”
I doubt it but I know there is also no chance arguing with her will work, so I don’t bother trying. Instead, I take a long sip of my gin and consider the possibility I’m going to need another refill sooner rather than later.
“I’ve sent all the login deets to your email,” she tells me. “Now, do you want more tequila or shall we move on to something a little more potent.”
And I scowl into my glass. No way in hell am I looking at them.
7
Callum
The Lighthouse is heaving tonight. This is hardly surprising; the pub, which was in its former life the old lighthouse building, is the only place to go after night falls, but it looks like most of the island has turned up tonight, keeping Charlotte and my sister, Haley—who occasionally will help out behind the bar—busy. There’s no sign of Elin and Kyle, so I assume their brood is keeping them home tonight. Just as well, because as much as I love my nieces and nephew, I need peace.
We’re sitting at a table in the window, the coast disappearing into the darkness beyond where the streetlights reach. Alex is midway through his second pint, while Tanner is still nursing his first. I’m heading towards my fourth, but it’s not doing what I want. I wanted to forget I had been desperate enough to even contemplate signing up for online dating—what the hell was I thinking? It’s completely and utterly crazy. Nothing good can come from it. My family, my friends will laugh themselves sick if they find out. Mason will probably punch me in the face for dishonouring his sister’s memory and I dread to think what Mara’s mother will do.
This is a bad idea.
But…
There’s also part of me that is holding out hope for something better than being alone.
Mara has been in my thoughts a lot since I visited that online dating website. I didn’t sign up for it in the end. I feel guilty as hell for even thinking about moving on with another woman, even though I know deep down Mara would never have wanted me to remain alone. She would have wanted me to be happy—that’s one thing I’m sure of. What I’m not sure of is what to do with the conflicting emotions I’m having about this whole situation, but staying single isn’t an option—not long term. I want my own family. I want someone to grow old with.
“What’s up with your face?” Alex demands, brushing a hank of hair out of his eyes. It needs cutting but none of us have had time to get to the mainland to do anything lately.
We’re doing shorter runs, sticking closer to the coastline because the weather at this time of the year is often too bad to sail in. This means we’re working longer hours to meet our fish quota, which is shitty, but a necessity.
“What’s up with yours?” I fire back, taking a sip of my drink.
“You look like someone pissed in your pint.”
“I’m tired.” And that’s not a lie; I’m exhausted. A bone-weary kind of exhaustion that is embedded deep within, but that’s not why I’m pulling a face.
Alex’s gaze narrows but Tanner speaks, cutting through anything else he may say.
“We going out tomorrow?”
“If the weather holds,” I tell him. There is a forecast for gale force winds. If that’s the case we’ll stay docked.
Tanner tosses back his pint and stands. “I’m heading home then.”
I nod at him, while Alex claps his back. Once it’s just me and my cousin he speaks again, “I’m hoping like hell we can go out tomorrow. I could do with the money.”
“I want to try online dating.”
He blinks at my sudden change of topic and then his brow contracts. “You want to what?”
“Try online dating.” I drain the last dregs of my pint and slide the glass back onto the table. “You were right when you said I need to reclaim back my life; I do. But unless I want to shack up with Doris, I’m out of options how to meet people. Online dating is a good option.”
Alex studies me for a moment, as if trying to work out if I’m pulling his leg or not.
“You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“What’s brought this on?”
I twist the empty glass between my fingers, my gaze locked on to it, as if it holds all the answers. “I’m tired, man. I’m tired of being alone. I loved Mara, but you’re right; she’s gone. I’m not. I want a family. I want kids. I want a wife. I want it all. I wanted it with her but that didn’t happen. Hopefully, I can find it again with someone else.”
Saying that, admitting it out loud, makes me feel as if a ten-ton weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
He stares at me, then his expression morphs into a grin. “Do it.”
This time it’s me who blinks at him. “Really?”
“Yeah, Cal, you’re right—you’re never going to find anyone here—and Jesus, I loved Mara too, but you deserve to find someone. These fuckers, they’d keep you married to a ghost until you drop dead yourself, but they don’t have the right to judge you for your choices. They’re not living your life. You want that stuff, you go and you get it.”
“I was going to sign up for a dating app yesterday,” I admit.
I keep my voice low in case any of the nosey fuckers in The Lighthouse are close enough to hear. The last thing I need is for this to get out and for Mason or Loretta to hear about it.
“Going to? So you didn’t?”
I brush my fingers through my hair. “I felt guilty as hell even thinking about it.”
“You shouldn’t. And if you want to find all those things you said you want then you need to be proactive. You’re right; you’re never going to find anyone sitting here waiting for them to come to you. We need fresh blood on the island for that, which isn’t going to happen.” He tilts his head. “And guilt? Cal, you waited six years to step back out there. I don’t think you have a single thing to feel guilty about. There’s no set time on when you’re supposed to move on. You do it when it feels right. If it never feels right… well, don’t move on, but from what you’re saying you’re ready. And if you are then you need to try. You can’t do things to keep everyone else happy. And yeah, these guys are probably going to lose their minds when you step back out there, but it’s none of their business.”
I stare at my cousin. We look similar, with the same shade of blond hair, the same eyes and
chin. We could pass for siblings, rather than cousins, but I’ve always been the more mature out of us both. Alex is a manchild—usually. The way he’s approaching this, therefore, surprises the hell out of me.
“When did you become so grown up?”
“I’ve always been grown up. And I’m also right about this. You know you’ll have all the family’s support.”
And this I do know. It’s the one thing I’ve always been able to rely on. “So you think I should do it?”
“I think you should do whatever the hell makes you happy, man. If that’s finding someone to settle down with then do that. Life’s short. If nothing else Mara taught us all that. So live it. Don’t just go through the motions.”
He’s right again, but he’s also just reiterating all the things I’ve been saying to myself over the past few days.
I push up from the stool and squeeze his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
Alex grins. “Well, I can’t promise that.”
I head home and as soon as I’m through the front door I make a beeline for my laptop. And this time I don’t just look at the page, this time, I create my profile.
8
Sadie
It’s the morning after my self-wallowing drinks with Emily and while I didn’t drink enough to sink a ship last night, I drank enough to hobble it. I’m certainly feeling the aftermath of my imbibing this morning, since my brain wants to climb out of my eyes.
I started my day with a shower and a paracetamol-coffee chaser before getting dressed and heading to my office.
Greenwood Holdings, my mother and stepfather’s company, has offices in central London, Manchester, Birmingham and Cardiff. Henry wants to expand further into Scotland and open two other facilities in the south west of England over the next five years. Whether he does will depend on the company’s bottom line; expanding too fast could bring the whole house of cards crashing down and Henry will never allow that. He’s worked too hard to get where he is.
I work at the London branch, which also happens to be Greenwood’s headquarters. As head of the marketing department, I manage a team of fifteen, split across internal and external areas. Luckily, my team are fairly self-sufficient so on days like today I can die in my office in peace, knowing they won’t burn the company’s reputation to the ground.
My stepfather, Henry, would have preferred I take a role higher in the company—chief operating officer or something along that vein—but I don’t want that. I would be bored out of my head running the day-to-day operations of the company. I think he was largely bemused when I told him I wanted to create a marketing team, but my stepfather has always indulged me and my half-sister so he agreed. Within ten months my department was up, running, and doubling our bottom line. After that he stopped pestering me about taking a different role.
When I got into work this morning, I muttered a quick hello to my team and headed straight for my office. Then I started on my second cup of coffee. I’m midway through my third when I log on to my emails and see the message from Emily—the currently unread email with my dating app user name and password.
Bloody Emily.
I love that girl, but she is crazy. No good can come from internet dating and I’m not sure I want to wade through a bunch of men wanting nothing but a good time. Dick pics, desperate men after a quick shag and crazies—isn’t that the sum total of internet dating? I know I’m generalising; lots of people have found true love online. There are success stories everywhere. But I’m old fashioned; I like to meet a person face-to-face. All that texting and messaging back and forth is cold.
That said, I am curious. I wonder what kind of people would want to meet me. And what kind of people would twig my interest. It all seems a little cold and calculated—swiping left or right as you shop for your ideal man.
But Emily is right about one thing. I do miss having a person in my life to share things with, and if I am being honest with myself, I’m lonely. Richard might have been an insurmountable bastard, but we had a good time together. There were holidays in the sun, adventures in the mountains, meals out, cinema trips, city-breaks. Those things are enjoyable with a partner.
“Sadie?”
I start and quickly close down my email account, as if I was doing something wrong. When my attention comes to the door, Mel is looking at me with amusement.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
I scowl at her. “You didn’t.”
“Uh huh.”
Her scepticism has my scowl deepening. Mel is my most senior staff member and my crutch. There are days I would not survive without her help. She’s also a good friend so naturally she sees through my bullshit.
I let out a long-suffering breath.
“I saw Richard the other night with another woman.”
Her nose wrinkles as she steps into my office, shutting the door behind her. I’m grateful for this because as much as I love my team, they do not need to witness whatever insanity is about to pour from my mouth.
“Richard the prick?”
I wish everyone would stop saying that. Did they all think he was a prick before I was planning on saying ‘I do’?
“Has Richard always been a prick?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Oh, no.” She sinks into the empty chair in front of my desk. “When he wasn’t leaving you high and dry I actually quite liked him. Now, I wish bad things on him all the time.”
I don’t even want to know what bad things she’s wishing. I brush this aside, perhaps to deal with at another time. Maybe.
“Well, he’s getting laid by some woman half my age anyway.”
“Good. Let him be someone else’s problem.”
She tries to tuck her hair behind her ear, but there isn’t enough of it, so it falls back into her face again. Mel has a habit of changing her hair style to suit her current mood, but recently she had the whole lot cut off. It’s never been that short before so it was a dramatic change—although why she chopped it all off, I don’t know; she wouldn’t say. Now, it doesn’t even skim her shoulders, instead touching the end of her jawline. It shouldn’t suit her, given the roundness of her face, but it does.
I frown at her as I interlink my fingers together on the top of the desk. “Well, that was kind of my feeling—once I got over the crushing upset, of course.”
“So, if you feel that way why are you hiding in your office?”
“I’m not hiding in my office.”
Mel’s brow nearly arches into her hairline. “You’re not?”
“No. I went on a bender last night; I’m feeling delicate.” And that is true; I do feel incredibly delicate.
“And that bender had nothing to do with Richard?”
I stare at her a beat, then say, “Tell me where we’re up to with the new campaign.”
If she’s thrown by my sudden change in direction, she doesn’t show it. Then again, Mel is used to my antics; she’s worked for me for the best part of four years—almost as long as I was with Richard, ironically. She’s an incredibly talented marketer and frequently my rock, especially at this time of the year when we’re leading up to the gala event.
“I’ve got everything in place for the television launch. The producer is ready to start production in the next week or so—depending upon the availability of the studio space he needs. The brochures went out to the full mailing list yesterday.”
I stare at her. “I really have no idea what I would do without you. You are legitimately amazing. How did you find time to do all that?”
“I’m an excellent multi-tasker,” she tells me and it’s not even a humble brag; she is.
“Okay, and what about the gala? Where are we up to there?” It’s still seven months away but it’ll sneak up fast. Best to get ahead of the curve.
“We need to talk to the caterers about the menu, pay the contract for the entertainment and send the invites. Then I can order the place cards, but I can’t do that until Henry finalises the guest list
.”
That list has been sitting on my stepfather’s desk for a week already.
“I’ll speak to him after lunch,” I tell her. It’s Thursday morning, which is usually when he meets with Graeme, our finance officer. Unless he’s snuck a meeting in, he should be free this afternoon.
“Thanks, Sadie. Do you need me to do anything else?”
“I don’t think so, thank you.”
“No problem.” She hesitates as if weighing up whether to say anything or not and then she speaks. “What Richard did to you was awful, but the best revenge you can get on him is to move on with your life as if he doesn’t exist in it.”
She leaves my office, shutting the door behind her. She’s not wrong but how do I do that? Letting go of the past is not an easy task.
I start looking through my to-do list. As I work, my mind drifts to my ex. What is the appropriate amount of time to wait before you should move on after calling off your wedding? I’m not sure, but surely it must be more than a matter of months. Worse still, the intimacy between them didn’t look new. They looked so comfortable with each other, which makes horrible thoughts drift through my mind. Were they together when we were? Is that why Richard didn’t want to marry me? Had he already moved on?
I push all that aside. I can’t wonder about the what-ifs. What good will it do anyway? Richard and I are done. I miss him but there isn’t a chance in hell that I would ever consider getting back with him. He broke my trust and nothing can repair that—not even time.
Emily was right when she said I need to move on. I do. And I need to do it sooner rather than later. If Richard is already onto the next thing then maybe I should also take a leaf out of his book and move on myself.
9
Callum
“You had any hits yet?” Alex’s hushed voice is not nearly as quiet as he thinks.
I shoot a look around him to the back of the boat where Mace and Tanner are readying the equipment to catch the fish—as soon as we find the next school. There’s something fairly big on the radar which could be a shoal but we won’t know for sure until we drop the lines and try to bait them.