by Shel Stone
Aggie had invited them to lunch with her friends, mostly at Cassandra’s prodding. In truth, he hadn’t really butted heads with Aggie to the same degree as he’d used to. Maybe it had been his own unhappiness and discomfort that had made their relationship so difficult. Not that it wasn’t difficult now. They just didn’t venture onto topics where they would butt heads.
“How many hours are we going to have to sit through inane conversation?”
Annabel had a habit of coming across as arrogant when she was nervous, and for some reason, Aggie and her friends made Annabel nervous. She didn’t quite fit in. Her clothes were drab in comparison, and still, he knew that she’d made an effort.
This was just an entirely different crowd and Annabel’s ways just didn’t fit here. Neither did he, but he truly hadn’t given a shit when he’d arrived, and he didn’t now. Except things were messier. Esme had made everything messier, and his head was still in shambles--more so than back at home. Things were easy at home. He had his place, as did Annabel. It wasn’t to say there wasn’t strife. The people in their crowd were constantly jostling for position. There was always tension.
“We’ll stay for a while. Then we can piss off and say we want to go sightseeing somewhere.”
“Like bloody tourists?”
You are a tourist, Inns wanted to say, but knew it would result in a fight. The worst thing about the relationship was that Annabel expected loyalty to her point of view, no matter how stupid it was. If she refused to view herself as a tourist, then he had to agree, even if she actually was a tourist, because there was a distinction between them and tourists that booked themselves into a hotel and wandered around oggle-eyed, staring at the sights, or worse, were there to get drunk and sleep with as many people as possible. No, they visited other people’s houses, which apparently made them not tourists.
“Ready?” Inns asked, checking his watch. He didn’t like being late. Not that he worried other people would think him rude. He more refused to be the kind of guy who needed his tardiness to say something about him. Was there anything more dull than a guy who had to prove himself by conveying he didn’t need to be on time?
The traffic was horrendous, and Inns only had a vague recollection of how to get there. He wondered if that gym monkey would be there. How could Esme have such poor taste, but then some guy had messed with her head before that, so she obviously did.
“Don’t you think?” Annabel said.
“Sorry?” Inns said, realising he’d been absorbed in his own thoughts.
“These houses are just garish.”
Actually, he was getting a little bored talking about how garish Marbella was. It seemed to be the only topic of conversation they’d covered since the time she’d arrived here. What did they normally talk about at home? Other people mainly.
Did they have boring conversations, he wondered. Annabel did more talking than him, for the most part, and there had been a degree of sitting through the conversations about horses. Saying that, she was quite happy to talk about Bennington Hall, conversations which he couldn’t have with anyone else. Who else could he talk to about the state of the roof, which was an endless topic with severe implications for his future life? Then again. Bennington Hall was to be her home and responsibility too, if they got married.
They’d both just assumed that they would get married. it was the only reason they were in this relationship. That sounded a bit harsh, didn’t it?
The restaurant had valet parking, which was something that wasn’t done at home, but he had to admit, it was a joyous convenience.
Again, he didn’t feel nervous, but this was the first time that Esme and Annabel would meet. It wasn’t as if he wanted it to achieve anything. Still, for some reason, it felt fraught.
Recognisable faces sat along a long table which signified their party. Esme’s brother, along with his American, flagrant girlfriend. Aggie in the middle, where she liked to be. Esme was there, looking just as thin as before. It was a wonder that buffoon hadn’t broken her. She seemed so delicate. Still, she seemed less withdrawn than the last time he’d seen her. Her eyes were more lively, and she noticed him. A small smile ghosted across her lips and her gaze went to Annabel.
For a moment, an irrational urge to reassure her that this wasn’t about her. That his relationship with Annabel wasn’t a rejection of her, but in a sense, it had been. Every moment of his and Esme’s relationship, he’d strived against everything she was. Partially because they didn’t belong together, but she was also so bright and shiny, so full of energy. That energy wasn’t there anymore. She’d been subdued.
“Inns, Annabel,” Aggie said, breaking into his thoughts again. He really was stuck in his own head at the moment.
“Hello,” Annabel said with a smile. “Annabel Langstein.”
In certain crowds, that name bore meaning, but it didn’t here. There was a murmur of greetings in response. Aggie went around the table and identified everyone. Esme did a small wave of her hand when it was her turn.
As they were late, the only seats were at the very end of the table, which was fine with him. The guy sitting with them was called Jasper, if Inns recalled correctly. Not someone he’d particularly hit it off with. Esme sat a few seats away and she was talking to a girl across the table. The energy was high and Inns didn’t particularly listen as Annabel started a conversation with Jasper, which involved architectural styles the National Trust should care about. It was absolutely a topic Annabel cared about, but no one here would. Back home, it was a conversation that conveyed personal values in the way you did with new people to communicate who you were. A method completely lost on this crowd, where it would be exclusively seen as boring conversation, but it wasn't like he could tell her to stop.
Sure enough the gym monkey was there and was talking to Aggie. Even having spent so much time here, he couldn’t understand some of the things they did, or the people they included in their gang. Then again, maybe he was some newly minted wealthy person, to whom the smell of the gutter still clung. Esme would chide him for being so arrogant. Annabel would agree with him.
Now that he was sitting, he really didn’t want to be there. So that hadn’t changed. He’d hated everything about these people, everything except when Esme would come to his room and they’d fuck. Nothing else had existed then. It had just been him and her, and the luscious headiness. Her kisses on his face, the way he’d traced his fingertips over the curve of her bare bottom. She had been sheer wonder.
And on some level, it hurt that she’d been abused while he’d been gone. But she wasn’t his responsibility. He'd never promised her she would be. They had never belonged together, and that was something he’d been clear about from the start.
They were still the only times when he’d allowed himself to step away from everything and just be. And he’d made her giggle. He still heard the sound of it. It had all been so carefree.
How could someone tarnish that joy in her? How could the people here have let that happen? They were her friends, the people who loved her, and they’d let someone come in and decimate her. To the point where she was now clinging to that guy who wasn’t suitable to her in any way.
A massive cheer broke out around the table and Inns was again drawn out of his reverie to see a guy he’d never seen before approach the table. Light brown hair, tanned, wearing shorts and a jacket. Yep, he was definitely part of this crowd.
Esme rushed out of her chair and ran to him, straight into an embrace. He hugged her back, but was equally focused on all the others welcoming him back.
“We certainly didn’t get that kind of welcome,” Annabel said with an amused laugh.
“That’s Quentin,” Jasper said. “He’d been away for a while.”
Inns had never even heard of him, but the group certainly came alive with his entrance. And it was a world away from the barely interested reception he and Annabel had received. And Esme had rushed to him. What did he mean to her, an irrational jealousy queried. Inns lo
oked away.
Annabel was dismayed, and Inns knew she wanted to be more enthusiastically received, but they were nothing to these people. Annabel wasn’t used to being nothing. The Langstein name normally assured that, but again, it didn’t mean a lot in this crowd. It annoyed her that her privilege wasn’t recognised.
Well, they both got lukewarm receptions here. Annabel was underappreciated and Esme rushed into the arms of some guy named Quentin as if she’d been waiting for him like he’d come here to save her. Clearly he was relegated even further down the list of important people to her. Obviously, he didn’t care.
Chapter 24
NORMALLY, RICKY LOVED HIS DAYS OFF, but today he felt restless. He didn’t feel like listening to music, which was a combination of work and leisure, but today, he just didn’t feel like it. He didn’t feel like going to the gym, even as he knew it might relieve this funk he was in.
He couldn’t stop thinking about that Aussie girl. Just the confidence she had. It seemed she was searching for something missing in her life, like he was, but she was chilled about it. And she was hot. She’d been born in the sun, and he found himself wondering about where she’d grown up. At one point, he’d even looked up Coffs Harbour and looked through pictures of the place.
Spanish TV was droning through the room and he was bored. Fuck it, he was going to the gym, and made himself get out of his apartment. What he really wanted to do was message Solraya and ask what she was doing, but he’d done so yesterday, and she had, for all intents and purposes, blown him off. She wasn’t rude about it. Had just said she was hanging with the girls.
Even he recognised he had to lighten up on the ‘getting in touch,’ because it was going to start being creepy if he didn’t. In this thing, he was all in, and she was... mostly out. And even though he’d gone through all and any situations that made him look cool in her eyes, he was in danger of looking seriously uncool.
Largely this wasn’t a situation he was used to. Girls he’d been interested in had never been so not interested in return. But there hadn’t been a situation where he hadn’t been able to talk a girl around. Solraya kind of laughed at him--not in a malicious way. She was too chilled to be malicious, and that was the most exciting thing about her. She was just so... relaxed. Solraya may actually be too cool for him.
Grabbing his keys, he got in his mediocre car. A cool car wouldn’t mean anything to Solraya. She would turn it back on him and ask him what was so wrong with his game that he needed a chic magnet. It was a magnet for Solraya he was trying to figure out. She seemed really cagey on getting drawn into a discussion of what she’d like in a guy. In fact, the whole topic was something she shut down.
The ride to the Athletics Club wasn’t long and the gym was nice and cool when he got there, mostly empty as it was in the afternoons. Getting his stuff from his locker, he worked out, going through his usual routine.
“Hey,” he said when Corey walked in, wearing the crisp uniform of pale shorts and a polo shirt. It wasn’t an attractive get up, but it identified them as staff.
“Hey, Ricky,” he replied as he came over to restack the rolled-up towels. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Settling back into routine.” It was a lie. He felt more adrift than ever, but not so he felt he’d made a mistake. “Good barbeque the other day.”
“Yeah, it was good seeing you.”
Ricky chewed the inside of his lip, his knee bouncing up and down. “You and Trish look like you’re going strong.”
“Yeah, we’re doing alright. All about finding the right one, I reckon.”
“So she’s the one?”
“Yeah,” Corey said, looking a little embarrassed about the conversation.
“How’d you know?”
“You just know, I guess.”
What the fuck did that mean? “Yeah, I guess,” Ricky replied. Maybe he should be having this discussion with Aggie, but he didn’t want to bring it up, because Aggie, as opposed to Corey, would make a big deal of it, possibly to other people. Most of all, she might mention it to Esme, which would be all-around badness. And also, as far as he knew, Aggie had never been in love. Not as far as he’d seen anyway.
Corey got up to leave. Fuck, he didn’t have anyone else to talk to. “It’s just...” he started, not quite knowing how to put this without sounding like a total pussy. “What does it feel like when you’re totally into a girl?”
“You don’t know what it feels like to be into a girl?” Corey said with a curious expression.
“As in, the one.”
“Oh,” Corey said. “Well, you can’t stop thinking about them.”
Tick.
“You don’t want to be with anyone else.”
Tick
“You totally lose it if someone else goes near them.”
That problem hadn’t come up, and he couldn’t even think about it.
“You keep calling them like an arsehole.”
“Fuck,” Ricky said. Everything Corey described sounded like the state he was in. Except having to watch her go off with some guy, which would be too unbearable to imagine, and would probably happen if he didn’t make a move. Girls like Solraya didn’t wait around. If he wanted a chance with her, he couldn’t fuck around.
“Fuck, yeah,” Corey said, pointing at him. “You’re in for it. Good luck, mate. Hope it works out, because it sucks when it doesn’t.”
“Yeah,” Ricky said absently and watched as Corey walked out of the weights room. Being in love didn’t feel good. It felt like shit, like he couldn’t sit down, and was driving him to look at pictures of places she might have walked through at some point. And she was already getting sick of him calling, and he hadn’t even had intentions before. How the fuck did you catch a girl like Solraya?
Chapter 25
OBVIOUSLY THEY HAD TO THROW Ouentin a proper coming home party, and Aggie had decided to do it at her place, which made Esme a bit nervous because of the whole Inns thing. It had been strange seeing him with his girlfriend—the right kind of girl according to him.
Annabel wasn’t exactly what Esme had expected, but then she hadn’t really known what to expect. The girl’s style was understated. In fact, Esme would pass her on the street and not even notice her. But style really wasn’t Inns’ thing either, so they were well suited there.
Still, the whole Inns dumping her for that girl was something Esme just couldn’t process at the moment. In terms of taking on sordid confusion, she’d had enough of it, so she relegated Inns and his preferences to something she just didn’t understand. And what was wrong with leaving it at that?
She’d go so far as to wish him and his relationship well—although they weren’t overtly affectionate with each other, but that could mean that they were very reserved publicly. That was completely in line with Inns.
Esme had gone with Felix and Shania. Ricky was working that night, and for some reason, it was an important gig for him. He’d said something about a promoter being in town. Truthfully, Ricky had been acting a bit weird, but equally, she didn’t really know him all that well. It was strange that you could be sleeping with someone and not know a great deal about them.
Obviously, she understood, but she also liked having him there when she had to deal with exes. But maybe it was time to just get over it.
Quentin was already there, with his girlfriend, Adelaide, whom Esme didn’t know well. They’d never really been a part of the same group. Felix was happy. He had a certain energy when he was happy. It was like all his people were back together again. Although how he and Quentin would be now was hard to tell. They were both in relationships and working, whereas they’d been living it up in every kind of scene there was before. Their friendship would have to change now.
Over at the edge of the patio, she saw Inns standing with a drink. He stood alone with his usual glower. In her gut, she knew he didn’t want to be there. At no point in the time she’d known him had he managed to look comfortable at a party. His social incompetence ha
d always made her want to protect him. But that wasn’t her job now, but his girlfriend wasn’t anywhere Esme could see.
Esme sought out Shania, whom quite a few were wary of at a party. They just didn’t know how to take her, but as opposed to Inns, Shania truly didn’t give a shit. Shania had thick skin, but Inns didn’t. He was so prickly, though, that people didn’t see it.
After that, she spoke to Rashida for a while, and Clara, who’d been out of town for a long time. Felix used to hate this girl, but he was so focused on Shania now, he didn’t even notice her. It had to be just a little shitty when your nemeses just didn’t care anymore, or she was relieved. Felix had no shame and no limits when he hated someone, or loved them, apparently.
Quentin and Adelaide took off, because jetlag was still messing with them. Esme felt like she’d missed a chance to talk to them, but not really. Quentin was going to be around. He still felt like a big brother to her. The nice one, as opposed to the arsehole that had been her real brother. And Quentin had always treated her like a kid, and in the state she was in, maybe that wasn’t so bad right now.
“Didn’t bring your boyfriend tonight?” Inns crisp voice said. She’d been too caught in her own thoughts to see him approaching.
“He’s working.”
“Yes. What does he do again?”
Inns knew perfectly well, Esme would bet. “What do you want, Inns? To comment on my boyfriend?”
“Frankly, yes. At least you could try to be with someone who isn’t using you.”
“You don’t know him, Inns. In fact, I’m not sure you know me.” If anyone was using anyone between her and Ricky, it was the other way around. “Where’s your girlfriend tonight?”
“She has a headache.”