“You sure? We can always do it some other time.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. It’ll give me an excuse to leave early. I insist on feeding you this time, though. The last time you took me out.”
“Ashton.”
“Please, Daddy.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, but I already knew he’d cave in. I wasn’t stupid about how he felt about me. When I pouted enough and acted all unhappy, he’d do next to anything to make me smile again.
“All right.” He shook his head. “Send me the address, and I’ll meet you there. Now go. You’re blocking the customers.”
I glanced over my shoulder. A young man was patiently waiting his turn.
“Oops, sorry.” I sidled out of the space and blew Callum a kiss. “I’m texting you the location now. See you at eight thirty.”
I gave him a weak smile, waved, and walked out of the café. Once I was outside and away from his watchful eyes, I allowed my smile to convert into a worried frown.
Almost afraid he was watching me, I kept looking over my shoulder as I trudged up the street. I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until I saw the familiar sign of a beer mug on the building before me. I slipped inside, fanning my sweaty armpits. The bar was only a ten minutes’ walk from the café, but the fear of being caught, the anxiety of doing something I shouldn’t, made me sweat profusely.
I hated sweating, but it was a minor punishment for deceiving Callum. At least I could make it up to him with dinner later. The last time he’d taken me to a restaurant and the food had been really good. I wanted to treat him this time, take him to my brother’s restaurant, which was now mine, and expose him to the things I knew.
Inside the bar, my steps faltered. During the day, rarely anyone hung out here. Just the lowlives who couldn’t find or keep a job. Alcoholics who stopped for a drink before going to work or while on lunch break. They were pathetic.
But look at you.
I shook my head at the intrusive thought. I was nothing like those men and women. I only came here because it was close enough to the café yet far enough for Callum not to have any idea where I was during the day. I was only here because my mother made going to classes too uncomfortable to bear. I didn’t have to be here. I could walk out right now if I wanted.
I was just hanging out here to kill some time. Since I was here, it only made sense to approach the bar, to speak to the bartender who now knew me by name and my drink of choice.
“You’re five minutes late.” The bartender smiled. Definitely gay. Cute too, but not my type. He didn’t seem assertive enough, and besides, I wasn’t looking.
“I didn’t know you kept a timer, Damian.” I dropped my bag to the floor and hopped onto the stool.
“I know your routine like clockwork.” He eyed me while he poured my drink. He placed the glass on the counter before me and gestured to the other guests. “I know all your habits and your cravings. That’s what makes me a kickass bartender.”
I tipped the glass to my lips. The familiar burn went down, warming my insides and giving me that calm feeling. Since dating Callum, I’d had to make changes. I couldn’t turn up drunk.
I drank enough to get the nice buzz that put me in a good mood, and even if I overdid it, Rue would come and get me. The bartender had him on speed dial. Rue knew the drill. He’d pick me up and bring me home to sleep it off. If the hangover was too horrible, I’d avoid Callum the next day. Callum assumed I needed those days off to study, but all I really needed was a day to get over my hangover.
I was slowly nursing my third drink and chatting with Damian, who was just as bored as me, when my phone buzzed. I turned over the device, freezing at the message from Callum.
Hope you have a great debate. Don’t forget to text me the address.
I quickly typed the name of the restaurant and the address as well as a note that it was fine dining. I knew his wardrobe was pretty thin, but maybe I could buy him something to wear and…
I shook my head, remembering the television fiasco. There was no way Callum would accept me buying him clothes, and I didn’t want to insult him. One step at a time. He’d agreed me taking him out for dinner, and that was enough.
All I needed to do was make it through my mother’s party without mishap, and I’d get to spend the rest of the night with Callum. I wished I could skip the function altogether, but I’d feel too guilty about that. I owed it to my dad and Jake to honor them. They’d both been exceptional men, upstanding citizens of Battersea. Everyone had loved them.
And you took that away from everyone.
The accusation rang true in my head. All my fault. My mother wouldn’t be a widow at barely fifty years old. My brother wouldn’t have his life cut short without experiencing life to the fullest. He always talked about finding a woman he could love, getting married and having children. He’d never get to experience that.
Jake had been doing such great things in the community, and what was I doing? Lying. Drinking. Skipping classes and generally flunking at life.
Why did I think someone like Callum would want to be with me once he found out the truth anyway? That my recklessness, my wild behavior that he disliked so much had ruined two lives. Now I was on the verge of ruining his too.
“Hey, man, you okay?”
I replaced the glass onto the counter, only aware then that I’d drained it. I needed more.
“I’d like another,” I said.
“You sure?” the bartender asked. “Do you want to talk about what put that frown on your face? You seemed okay when you walked in. Just the usual look of guilt.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I glared at him. I should get out of there. I should call Rue and find a safe spot to handle my mood responsibly. I should go back to the café and tell Callum the whole truth.
“Am I getting another drink or what?”
Damian stared at me for such a long time I almost grabbed my bag to find another bar. Hell, I could even go home and indulge if I wanted, but it was best to avoid Mother.
“Suit yourself.” He stepped away from the counter.
When he returned, he set the drink and a flyer before me. “You may want to check this out. You’re way too young and way too pretty to drink yourself slowly to death. It all starts somewhere.”
I stared at the AA flyer, hating the sight of the thing. I crumpled the paper into my fist and threw it aside.
“I know what I’m doing.”
It couldn’t be further from the truth. I didn’t have a fucking clue.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ashton
“Master Ashton, here’s your dry cleaning.”
With a groan, I raised my head from the pillow and frowned at Ava, who’d entered my bedroom with a garment bag over her arms. She held it delicately like it was the most precious thing instead of just one of the dozens of formal suits I had .
“I’m not going, Ava,” I moaned and rolled over.
I felt like shit. My head was fuzzy, and my mouth tasted putrid. Had I vomited earlier? I couldn’t remember much of anything but Rue helping me upstairs to bed.
“But you have to go. This party is for your father and brother.”
“They don’t care if I’m there, Ava. They’re fucking dead.”
When she didn’t respond, I lifted my head and peeked at her, immediately regretting how rude I was. It was hardly her fault that I fucked up my life over and over. I couldn’t blame her for drinking way more than I’d intended earlier at the bar.
“I’m sorry.” I sat up. “It’s just…why does it have to be so hard, Ava? Why does it fucking hurt so bad still?”
“Oh, Ashton.” She laid the bag gingerly over a chair and came to sit beside me on the bed and patted my shoulder. “We don’t expect you to get over their death so soon. It was a tragedy the way you lost them, and there’s no time to the grieving process. You take as long as you need to heal.”
I shook my head. “It’s my fault. It should’ve been me ins
tead. Everybody would be so much happier.”
Callum wouldn’t have met me. He wouldn’t worry so much. He could concentrate on his business instead of helping me with assignments that would never make it to my professors.
“Shame on you for thinking that way,” she scolded me. “Life has a lot of things in store for you. If only you’d allow yourself to discover your full potential.”
I laughed hoarsely. “You’d make a better mother than the one I have, Ava. But sorry to disappoint you. I have no skills that are useful to polite company. I can’t even make it through college without my mother’s interference.”
“Of course you could. You just don’t apply yourself.”
That was the same thing Callum had basically accused me of. Hadn’t I been able to complete my assignments with a little guidance from him?
“Now, I don’t want to hear this nonsense talk about you taking their place.” She rose to her feet and wagged a finger in my direction. “The future will have so many good things in store for you. I’ll get you some aspirin and leave on the nightstand. Go take a shower and make your brother and father proud by standing in place for them.”
Before I could thank Ava for the pep talk, she’d disappeared. I got out of bed with a sigh, still feeling like death warmed over, but I had a party to attend, not to mention my dinner date with Callum to look forward to.
The dinner date cheered me up. Being with Callum always cheered me up. It was just a pity I wasn’t able to hang out with him all day at the café, but he would’ve gotten suspicious about me not attending classes.
I took a long shower in ice-cold water, trying to sober up as much as possible. When I stepped out of the shower, my skin no longer felt clammy. An eye drop in each eye and some eye cream couldn’t hide the shadows underneath my eyes, though. I got some concealer and took care of it.
Hopefully, Callum wouldn’t look too closely at me later. Who was I kidding? He always observed me like he wanted to devour me whole. I wasn’t about to complain, though.
A couple of tablets and a glass with a bottle of water was on the nightstand, just as Ava had promised. I gratefully poured the water into the glass and downed the pills. Apart from Callum, Ava and Rue were the best things to ever happen to me. I’d grown up around Ava, and she’d practically raised me as my parents had been too busy with their business schedules.
When there were thunderstorms, it was Ava’s bed I hopped into and hid under the sheets. She’d wait until I was fast asleep before she’d take me back up the stairs and to my own bed. Sometimes she even sat with me for the entire night when I was extremely afraid and couldn’t sleep.
Although Ava had brought my dry cleaning, which meant Mother had picked out what she wanted me to wear, I dismissed the suit. I didn’t want to have to change clothes once the party was over. I intended to go straight to dinner with Callum.
I’d forgotten to call in and make a reservation for us because I’d been too drunk. Making a reservation wasn’t necessary, though, since the restaurant had been passed on to me when Jake died. But I usually called as a courtesy to let them know I was arriving. They’d save the best table for me and my friends.
I put on one of my statement jacket suits Mother loathed. I didn’t do it to be controversial, but I hated that she stifled my style. It was one of the last things I’d left of the real me, and I wouldn’t allow her to take that away from me.
By the time I’d finished dressing, it was already seven fifteen. Engines outside indicated the cars driving onto our property. My mother was a punctual woman, and everyone respected her time. Normally, I believed in arriving fashionably late, but I wanted as little trouble as possible during the night.
“Master Ashton!” Ava cried as she met me at the top of the stairs. Her eyes were wide, taking in the silky green-and-black jacquard jacket, black pants, and green bow tie.
“Let me guess. Mother sent you to get me?”
“Yes.” She waved at me. “What happened to the suit I brought up for you?”
“It’s not my taste at all, Ava.”
She groaned and made a sign of the cross. “Must you anger your mother so?”
I frowned at her. “You know, I wish I could be myself without making her mad, but my simple existence seems to do that on its own, so I can’t summon the energy to care right now, Ava.”
With a nod, she scampered away, more than likely to make herself scarce during the party. She disliked crowds and never showed her face when my parents entertained.
I descended the stairs and followed a couple to the large ballroom my mother had had remodeled a couple of years ago. Two dozen or so people were already in attendance, making their way across the room and chatting.
The servers of the catering company mother had hired were making the rounds with trays of champagne. My eyes trailed the closest one and rescued two glasses for myself before the server moved on.
“Ashton, darling,” Mother said with her usual pretentious air she used in public. She pried one glass out of my grasp. “Thanks for snagging me a drink.”
“They were both for me, Mother,” I replied and gulped from my drink. I already needed another.
“Of course not, silly.” She pinched both my cheeks. “I know for sure you’d never do anything to jeopardize tonight. It’s a very big night for your father and brother. Behave. If not for me, do it for them. You can do that, can’t you, Ashton?”
She didn’t wait for me to respond but whisked away to greet my uncle, the mayor of Battersea, and my aunt. I crept away from them, intent on getting lost in the crowd. When I downed the glass, I placed it on the nearby tray of a waiter and snagged another.
I just needed a bit of liquid courage to get me through the night.
For the most part, the guests ignored me, but one or two of my father’s friends stopped me and asked me about college and my plans to take over the company. I hated making small talk with them. I was forced to lie through my teeth about college being fantastic and being eager to take over the business.
I wasn’t even sure I wanted to run the business. It seemed like such a Herculean task.
“Your brother had the golden touch,” one of my father’s gold buddies said to me. “It was such a loss that he died in the same accident that killed your father. He had so much promise. I suppose you have very big shoes to fill, young man.”
I snagged another glass from the server, my stomach in knots. I was already having trouble filling my own crappy shoes. What was it with all these expectations for me to live up to my brother’s serious image? That wasn’t the kind of guy I was.
The most input I could give about the businesses my brother had been involved in was of the nightclub. That was more up my alley. I liked the social aspects of life, but everyone made it out to be a bad thing.
As my mother took the stand to greet everyone, I slinked away in a corner. I glanced at my watch. It was already twenty minutes to eight. I just needed to survive another half an hour of this before I could ask Rue to drop me at the Keyes Cuisine, my brother’s—no, my restaurant.
“Thank you, everyone, for showing up this evening,” Mother said, smiling at her guests. She looked stunning in her dark blue dress, which swept the floor. “It means a lot to me that you’re able to share this moment in which Keyes Enterprises opens a new foundation to assist small business owners in their operations.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a trembling hand. Her smile wobbled. My mother was a strong woman, and only one thing got her this choked up.
As a server approached, I downed my drink quickly and rescued another full glass. My hand shook slightly, and I held on to the stem like it was my lifeline.
“As you all know,” my mother continued, “my husband, Chris, and my son, Jake, lost their lives in a tragic car accident. They both invested greatly in the business community of Battersea. Not a day goes by that I don’t question the way in which they were taken from me. They were on their way out of town, but whate
ver made them take the route they had forever changed all our lives.”
The rest of her words got drowned in the rush of noise in my ears, the heat of fire close to my skin, the harshness of my brother’s dying voice in my ear.
“Ash, go! Get help.”
“I can’t leave you,” I cried. All I saw was Dad with blood trickling down his face. He was unconscious, his body held up only by the airbag that had deployed.
“You’re not leaving me. You’re getting help.”
“I can get you out. I can.”
“I’m trapped, Ash. My legs are crushed beneath the car. Please listen to me for once and go get help. Now!”
A thunderous applause pulled me out of the horrific nightmare I’d been trapped in for the better part of the past year. The room closed in on me. The tie at my throat felt constricting, cutting off my air supply. I yanked at it, loosening the bow.
“Are you okay, son?” someone asked me, but I didn’t even see them. My eyes found the bar where the servers refilled the glasses before circulating the room.
I needed to forget. I should’ve never listened to him. Should have never left them alone. Then I would’ve died along with them and avoided this suffering. This guilt that I’d left them there to die.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Callum
“I still can’t believe you’re bailing on us to go to a fancy restaurant. What have you done with my friend Callum?”
I grabbed the trash bag and frowned at Phil, who was being way too dramatic for my taste.
“I’m hardly leaving you during rush hour. Plus, don’t I always lock up? And Brayden is here to help you.”
“I’m just worried about you getting too involved way too soon,” he reminded me. “You know, go out and have a good time, but don’t get too caught up in the lifestyle again, yeah?”
My frown developed into a full scowl. “Phil, you’re giving me mixed signals here, buddy. First you tell me to have a social life. You pushed Ashton at me, told me to give the boy a chance, and now that I have, you’re against our relationship.”
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