Regrets

by Caragh Bell

  ‘Luca!’ Tyler patted his back. ‘Wake up, man! Are you listening to a word I’m saying?’

  Luca snapped out of it straight away. ‘Sorry, I have a big sale today so I’m pretty stressed out,’ he lied. ‘What were you saying?’

  ‘When is the wedding? I gotta plan the bachelor party. Your last night of freedom before you’re tied to the ball and chain!’

  Luca smiled. ‘What’s the deal?’

  ‘I asked the boys – we were thinking Vegas or something. The Jacob has to have the best goddamn party ever.’

  Tyler Trenton. The guy who knew how to party. Luca stared at him fondly. They had been friends since forever. He watched his friend sip his coffee gently, then blow on it, then gingerly try and drink it again. His freckles seemed even more prominent on his pale face and his red hair was turning a russet brown.

  In a flash, he remembered kindergarten and how they stole Ms Kandinsky’s banana and flushed it down the john. How they rolled a doobie outside Ty’s aunt’s house in Brooklyn and proceeded to puke their guts up from the noxious smoke. He remembered his mom’s cookies: the best chocolate chip in New York. How Tyler would invite him over and they would talk about outer space and play Jedi knights all evening. He was always Luke Skywalker and Tyler was always Obi Wan.

  Luca stared at his friend for a moment. He had been toying with asking Charlotte’s younger brother to be his best man. Being an only child, he didn’t have much of a choice. Craig was too far away and had his own wedding to organise.

  ‘Ty?’ he said suddenly. ‘You busy on the fourteenth of July?’

  Tyler shook his head. ‘How am I supposed to know that? It’s only like February, man.’

  ‘Well, could you keep it free?’

  ‘Why?’ he asked quizzically.

  ‘Would you be my best man?’

  Tyler spat out his coffee. ‘What?’

  ‘Would you like to stand for me, be my right-hand man, get me to the church on time, the usual?’ Luca’s blue eyes were warm.

  Tyler’s face slowly grew red as the realisation dawned.

  ‘Are you serious?’ he yelled, jumping to his feet. ‘I get to wear a penguin suit and, like, screw the bridesmaids?’

  Luca burst out laughing. ‘I guess.’

  ‘I’m in, buddy, I’m totally in!’ He started to shimmy around the table.

  ‘Sit down, buddy – I’ve got to work in this area.’

  Tyler flopped down on his chair, the delight evident on his face. ‘Seriously, Jacob, I’ll be the best goddamn best man you ever had.’

  Luca shook his hand. ‘I get that. Look, I’ve got to go. I have a meeting with my mom about an exhibition. I’ll call you – we should hook up soon.’

  ‘You got it.’ Tyler gave him a huge bear hug. ‘Thanks, man. You’ve made my day.’

  ‘I’ll send you pictures of the bridesmaids.’

  ‘Awesome.’

  Chapter 9

  Tara Jacob watched her son type with lightning speed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked. She couldn’t believe how good he was at this job; he was making sales almost every week. Throughout his life, he had never pushed himself; he had never really tried at much. Now, he had found his niche; he was now a man.

  She was delighted he and Charlotte were getting married. She was a beautiful girl and a nice one. She would make a wonderful wife and mother; there was no doubt about that. Still, it made her slightly sad. Her only son was taking the biggest step of his life. He would no longer come to her for advice; he would swear allegiance to his new wife. She knew it was a natural progression, but it still made her heart sore. She was the one who had carried him for nine months; she was the one who had given him life. She had breastfed him and helped him to take his first steps. She had practised phonics with him as he learned to talk and she was waiting for him after his first day at school. She remembered his blond curls as he lay sleeping in his crib, clutching his worn monkey teddy for dear life.

  When he went through his phase of coming into their bed at four each night, claiming he’d had a nightmare, she had complained to Mimi that she couldn’t sleep with his foot jabbing into her back. Mimi’s wise old face had softened and she had told her to cherish those moments. Instead of being annoyed, she advised her to pull him close. Time was cruel and flew by. Those stolen cuddles would be confined to memory – a time she would cherish when he was a grown man, living his own life.

  Oh, how right she was, thought Tara, gazing lovingly at her son.

  She could still smell the Johnson’s Baby Shampoo from his hair; she could still feel his little arms wrapped around her waist.

  ‘Goddamn it, Mom!’ His cry of exasperation brought her back to reality. ‘Who installed this fucking hard drive?’

  He was so like his father. Impatient to the last.

  ‘Take it easy, I’m sure we can fix things, honey.’ She pushed him gently aside and started to click on icons. ‘Tell me the problem.’

  Charlotte pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. She had been working on this case for two months now. She still couldn’t crack it. It involved an heiress, her ex-husband and an inheritance. They were at each other’s throats. She sure was sick and tired of the squabbling. It showed her the ugly side to a marriage when things go wrong. It threatened to lift some of the gloss off her own upcoming nuptials.

  Her phone buzzed on the table, reverberating loudly in the quiet office. It was Luca, wondering what time she was finished. He suggested meeting in a Mexican restaurant downtown.

  She smiled as she replied. Even the thought of him gave her butterflies in her stomach. It had been like that from day one. Christian Jacob had invited the partners and juniors to lunch at his home in the Hamptons. A game of tennis was followed by a delectable seafood platter on the veranda by the beach. She had sipped ice-cold Sancerre and nibbled on the lobster, which was poached to perfection. Suddenly, she heard a ‘Whoop!’ from the beach. Peering out from behind her oversize Dior glasses, she saw a man coming out of the sea, his bronzed torso gleaming in the sun. Slowly her eyes travelled upwards to the most gorgeous face she had ever seen: he had classic bone structure, piercing blue eyes and golden-blond hair. Her mouth had literally fallen open. He walked confidently up the beach, his surfboard under his muscular arm.

  ‘Luca!’ his father called in his commanding tone. ‘Come here, I want to introduce you to my colleagues.’

  That had been it. She had grinned stupidly and flirted badly for a couple of days. Despite her beauty, she’d had little experience with men: Harvard had been a time of all work and no play. She had been Daddy’s little good girl from the moment she was born. Suddenly, she felt alive. Lying naked in Luca’s arms, three days after their initial meeting, had been the wildest thing she had ever done. After about a week she was head over heels in love. He made her laugh, he was the sexiest guy she had ever kissed and he seemed to really like her.

  Fast forward a year and a half and they were engaged. It had just happened out of the blue. One evening they were walking home through Central Park after a night at the Met. Charlotte started talking about her friend Sophia’s wedding; it had taken place the weekend before in The Four Seasons.

  ‘I loved it, the whole romance of it,’ she exclaimed, her face lit up with delight. ‘I’ve been dreaming of my dress since I was three.’

  Luca stopped suddenly and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close.

  ‘Let’s do it!’ he said. ‘Let’s get married!’

  She stared at him in confusion. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Be my wife! You’re so gorgeous I want you all to myself.’

  Charlotte’s eyes widened. ‘Are you for real?’

  He kissed her long and hard on the lips. ‘I sure am.’

  Then, a whirlwind followed: the purchase of a solitaire in Tiffany’s, an elegant engagement party on Charlotte’s father’s yacht and lots of gifts. It had been magical.

  Luca loved novelty; he loved the shock factor. Being enga
ged was exciting and different. He was the perfect fiancé: loving and attentive. The solitaire he purchased for her was over two carats and weighed her finger down. It sparkled when she moved and she loved it more than anything.

  But sometimes he drifted off. She didn’t know where or why, but sometimes she felt like he was a million miles away. At this stage, she felt like she knew him so well, but there was one little thing she couldn’t put her finger on.

  Putting on her glasses again, she dismissed that thought. She was the luckiest girl in New York – hell no, the world. She was content with that.

  Lydia arrived at the restaurant, brushing water from her jacket. The rain had been teeming down in Paris for the last two days. It rendered cycling to work incredibly difficult and uncomfortable. Slipping into the staff room, which consisted of a tiny kitchenette and a cupboard for coats, she pulled off her drenched jacket and shook the droplets of rain violently from its surface. Her white shirt was saturated and her lacy bra was clearly visible.

  Opening the cupboard, she rummaged around for a spare shirt that Laura stored in there. It was normally stashed under the aprons.

  ‘Ha, finally!’ she exclaimed in relief, pulling out a crisp white blouse. Unbuttoning her own shirt, she peeled it off her wet skin. Her hair clung to her back and she squeezed out the excess liquid over the tiny sink. She didn’t hear him come in.

  ‘Tiens!’ Mathis stopped short at the sight of Lydia in her bra with a wet shirt in her hands. She jumped and turned around, covering her breasts in embarrassment.

  ‘Jesus, Chris, I didn’t know you were in.’ Her cheeks grew hot with mortification.

  He stared at her openly. ‘I am ’ere,’ he managed finally.

  She looked stunning. The curves of her waist were highlighted by the dark wall behind her. Her hair fell in waves down her back. He felt at a loss as to what to say.

  ‘Will I turn away?’ he offered lamely, not wanting to in the slightest. Her apparent embarrassment was endearing; she was visibly cringing.

  ‘Just give me two minutes,’ she said, grabbing the dry shirt. ‘I got soaked on the way here.’

  ‘Soaked? What ees zees?’

  ‘Wet, you know, mouillée.’

  ‘Ah, I understand.’

  He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Her image filled his mind. He had liked her from the start, with her long silky hair and her sexy walk. He was popular with the ladies; he never had a problem getting together with girls. Yet, despite a few mumbled requests to go for a drink, he had never really pushed it with her. He suspected that she was not an easy conquest. Another factor was that she always seemed to have some guy in the background – up until now, she had told him about each failed relationship, but lately things had become awkward between them. It’s like a fire had been ignited that they couldn’t ignore. He had noticed her reaction when he joined them for wine that last night. He recognised the signs; Lydia wanted him.

  Where was Fabian? He was sure that they were still together. He made a mental note to ask Laura when he next saw her.

  Whistling, he set to work. Seeing her without clothes only heightened his desire for her. If Fabian was out of the picture, then he was going to try.

  ‘Come back to bed.’ Craig pulled a pillow over his eyes as Samantha pulled the curtains apart. ‘It’s Sunday morning, for Christ’s sake.’

  ‘I’m going for my run. You should come with me.’

  She pulled on her running pants and top, tied her trainers and scraped her hair back into a ponytail.

  ‘I’m in great shape,’ he murmured in a muffled tone.

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘If you say so.’ She inserted her earphones and pressed shuffle on her iPod. ‘I want to be gorgeous for our wedding.’

  ‘You’re gorgeous anyway, Sammy. Please come back to bed. We can make love and fall asleep together.’

  She shook her head, making her ponytail swing from side to side.

  ‘No can do. I’m meeting Colin at eight sharp. You know how punctual he is.’

  ‘See you later so.’ He stretched out and sighed. ‘I need another half an hour.’

  Samantha left the flat. They now lived three doors down from Colin, in a similar apartment building next to the river. They had moved in together after Lydia had left, her departure the catalyst they needed. Then, Craig had graduated and they had been able to upgrade. He worked in a big practice in the city centre and could walk to work. It was a perfect location for both of them.

  Colin’s health buzz hadn’t abated. He was jogging impatiently outside his building when she arrived. His brown curls were pushed off his face with a yellow sweatband and his Lycra shorts were bright blue.

  ‘Save it, Col – I am not, repeat, not late.’

  ‘Barely.’ He activated his iPod. ‘Will we go up by the Lough?’ he asked, referring to the lake in the suburbs. It had a perfect circumference for joggers who preferred flat surfaces.

  She nodded in affirmation and they turned right up the hill.

  They both turned on their music as they jogged so there was little or no conversation until they reached their destination. Colin gestured for her to stop and bent over, panting.

  ‘I’m exhausted, Sam. Can we take a break?’

  She nodded breathlessly. ‘Let’s sit on that bench over there.’

  They flopped down on a wooden bench, situated right next to the water. Colin took deep breaths and tied to regain his composure.

  ‘I’m so not fit.’

  ‘You are,’ protested Samantha. ‘You are an inspiration. I need all the help I can get to stick with it.’

  ‘Think of how hot you’ll look in your dress.’ He took a swig of Evian.

  ‘I know. It’s my main motivation. I’ve put signs all over the flat. Like, on the larder door over the chocolate shelf and where we store the crisps.’

  ‘Signs? What do they say?’

  ‘Think of your dress!’

  Colin laughed. ‘That’s effective. Does it work?’

  She laughed too. ‘Most of the time. Some days, I come home from work and the only solace I have is a Twix. That’s the reality.’

  Colin rubbed his leg. ‘You’re in great shape anyway, Sam. You don’t need to worry.’

  ‘Aw, thanks. You’re so sweet.’

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the ducks glide across the water. The morning sun glinted on the lake.

  ‘Have you heard from Lyd lately?’ asked Samantha, stretching her calf.

  ‘Yeah. She rang last night. She fancies some new guy.’

  ‘Oh, please! Who’s the poor guy this time?’

  ‘Some chef she works with. Mathis or something?’

  Samantha frowned. ‘What is with her lately? Remember her in college?’

  Colin nodded gravely. ‘She was a model student and the perfect girlfriend. Still, she needed to go a bit wild.’

  ‘For a few months, maybe. Certainly not for three years,’ argued Samantha.

  Colin pulled himself up. ‘She’ll sort herself out. She’s an amazing girl who’s just lost her way.’

  She regarded him fondly. ‘You always have her back.’

  His brown eyes were serious. ‘Always.’

  Samantha stood up unsteadily. Her legs ached and her ankle throbbed. It was all too hard. She could see that Colin was suffering too.

  ‘Screw this exercise lark. Want to go for pancakes and coffee?’ She put her head to one side, questioningly.

  ‘Sounds like the best plan ever.’

  They linked arms and walked off down the street.

  Chapter 10

  Laura took off her apron with a sigh.

  ‘I’m so sick of being nice to people,’ she groaned. ‘Please take my place.’

  Lydia made a face. ‘It’s so unfair that we are always on opposite shifts. When will we get a chance to go out together?’

  ‘Well, I have a date tonight. With my stockbroker.’ She winked suggestively. ‘He’s taking me to a swanky resta
urant down near Défense.’

  ‘Things are getting serious, then?’ Lydia pulled her hair up into a chignon at the base of her neck.

  ‘Yes, quite.’ She pulled on her coat. ‘Although I won’t be flying him home to meet Mummy yet. Ciao, darling. Enjoy your evening.’ She blew a kiss and walked out.

  Lydia walked into the restaurant to find her boss at the counter.

  ‘We ’ave many clients tonight, Leed.’ Claudine scanned the book on the desk. ‘It is just you and Mathis, I’m afraid – I ’ave to meet someone.’

  The vegetable guy, thought Lydia, smiling to herself.

  ‘No problem, Claude. See you later.’

  The kitchen was empty when she ventured in to fill the ice bucket. She breathed a sigh of relief. Ever since the wet-bra incident, things were even more awkward between her and Mathis. He filled her thoughts all the time. She had even admitted her feelings to Colin, who had squealed in excitement.

  As if on cue, he walked into the kitchen, a bag of potatoes on his back. She watched his arm muscles ripple as he lowered it onto the floor.