by K A Sands
“What are you smirking at over there?” Taylor stepped into the kitchen, towel drying her hair and scaring me half to death. I hated I was still so jumpy.
“Oh, nothing...maybe thinking about getting drunk.” I downed the rest of my glass as if to prove a point, which was silly.
Taylor patted my back and giggled when I poured another. “That’s my girl.”
We were meeting Ryder and his friend - I’d forgotten his name already, oops - at the bar around eight. Like everywhere else in Beaufort, the pub was close. Taylor and I retreated to her bedroom to get dressed. I noticed the jeans, that weren’t Taylor’s, lying haphazardly across a chair in the corner of a room. I smiled to myself before launching into conversation as Taylor squeezed her cute curves into a cerulean blue peacock dress I’d made for her last year then fixed her hair and make-up.
“You sure you don’t want a dress?”
Being sisters, we had much the same body frame and swapped clothes all the time. Outside was far too cold and I’d opted for tight, fitted jeans and a cream, chiffon swing top. The slits up the arms and down the back made it too dressy for day wear. My favourite silk screen painted butterfly scarf, secured around my neck, jazzed up the look. I didn’t need to freeze my arse off in a dress, I wasn’t out to impress anyone.
“Never mind,” she said, eyeing me up and down, “you look perfect.”
We finished the bottle of Malbec then huddled into our coats, locking up and hurrying along the road. The night air was frigid at best and we laughed and carried on, our breaths frosty as we snuggled together, gravitating towards the muffled sounds of music coming from along the street.
Approaching the bar, I vaguely registered someone running across the road in front of us and jumping into a gorgeous looking car, a Porsche, I think. The door slammed loudly through the night, whoever clearly not in the mood to party. I stopped to watch as a guy banged his head against his steering wheel, the urge to knock on his window to make sure he was all right, pulled at me. Nope. He wasn’t my business, he was a stranger and I didn’t do strangers. Instincts be damned. The poor bloke was most likely in trouble with the Mrs.
Taylor tugged at me, pulling me through the pub door and into the warmth. She scanned the room, looking for Ryder I assumed. When she grabbed my coat sleeve, I looked to where she was pointing, and my heart sunk in my chest. There was a man sitting, on his own, at a table in the back of the bar.
Shit, where was his friend?
Third wheel was not my idea of an exciting night. Going home wasn’t an option so I sucked in a breath and valiantly hid my disappointment. Maybe his friend was running late? Or in the gents?
Or saw me and ran the fuck away?
Taylor squeezed my hand, talking to me. The music was so loud at the front of the bar I couldn’t make out what she was saying but I clocked Ryder standing in front of us, a cheeky grin on his face. I mumbled an apology and put my hand to my ear, the universal motion of ‘I can’t hear a fucking thing.’ Ryder’s hand was outstretched in front of me. Oops, introductions of course. I clasped his hand firmly and shook, no weak arsed limpness from me.
“Laura...pleased to meet you.” I found myself shouting as I leaned in.
Ryder pulled me into a confident one-armed hug, never letting go of Taylor. I chuckled at his possessiveness.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he said in a deep voice close to my ear, not exactly shouting, still clear enough to be heard. “Taylor’s told me a lot about you, Laura. I’ve been eager to meet you.” Ryder pulled back and flashed me a killer smile. “My buddy was here, he had to leave, had an emergency. Maybe some other time we’ll all get together?”
He looked visibly annoyed as Taylor shook her head, insisting it was fine, that we’d still have a drunken night. Her face flushed when Ryder leaned down and brushed a kiss over her lips, the display of affection not too overbearing to see like I’d feared. She, in turn, reached up and swept her palm across his cheek as he whispered in her ear. With a demure shyness, I watched in fascination as she tipped her head toward the floor. I sucked in a breath and averted my eyes from their personal moment, wondering who the hell Ryder was. That he could tame my larger than life sister that way. Oh boy - I wanted my very own Ryder. Not him, but one like him.
We moved to the booth at the back, winding through locals already up and dancing. Ryder poured wine as we sat, then drew Taylor into his side and planted a sweet kiss on her cheek. His phone was in his hand two seconds later and the next thing, he was taking pictures of them together.
“For the future grandkids.” He smirked at me, winked at her.
My heart melted at this mountain of a man promising my sister forever in the best way possible. He looked to have it as bad as Taylor did. Good sign, you couldn’t fake that hearts in the eyes look.
Making small talk, we polished off our glasses, drinking down the fruity wine, not quite the decadence of the Malbec. Passable. Ryder leaned backwards to text on his phone and I lifted the bottle, tipping the neck to their empties. Taylor agreed but before I could even begin to pour, Ryder intercepted.
“Here, let me.”
He took the bottle and half-filled our glasses, pushing the fourth empty out of the way, muttering ‘bozzo.’ I hadn’t even noticed the glass until then. Four glasses on the table meant he’d been here at least. It had me wondering if his friend was single. I mean, he was gifted with some seriously gorgeous looks, the guy was hot from what I could remember from weeks back. Was he as rugged and confident as Ryder?
Hell, what did it even matter?
Ryder nudged in close, squishing us all together. “Smile!”
Off went the flash on his camera phone, momentarily dazzling me. Without complaint, I managed to grin, keeping that stupid pursed lip thing going on, even as I cringed. Pretending having my photo taken wasn’t a version of hell I was comfortable with.
As a rule, nobody took my picture - ever. I felt indignant as Taylor knew this all too well, and the little madam was simply sitting there, studying me. I couldn’t make out her expression, whereas mine must have been all over my face. Ryder bumped my shoulder.
“Hey, Laura...Lucca will be pissed he had to leave. I’m gonna send him a ‘wish you were here’ text.”
I tried to loosen up and succumb to the relaxed atmosphere Ryder created. Taylor reached over and put her hand on mine on the table. I was such a paranoid idiot; normal people took selfies, sent their friends memories of their good times, it was no big deal.
“He won’t pass it around, I promise,” she whispered into my ear.
Ryder gave Taylor a funny look, like he didn’t quite understand, and I was beginning to think she hadn’t told him all that much about us. A lot of my pain and regret was hers too, she lived the nightmare alongside me for the most part. I had to ask why she hadn’t filled him in on the essentials. Was she holding back until I gave her the say so? I couldn’t hide myself away indefinitely and get all choked and bent out of shape when we did a thing as ordinary as taking a picture at a bar. Taylor was right - I was ready. So goddamned ready, I was fit to burst.
I tipped my glass in her direction and offered a confident smile that would have made even my father proud.
“Who’s ready to party?”
Taylor hollered at me. “That’s my girl!”
And then I was back to obsessing about the elusive Lucca.
What if he saw me and took off?
I wasn’t ghastly to look at, but I held an air of ‘closed-off,’ a cloak difficult to shrug. Maybe he caught my vibe through the window before I even entered the bar? I tried to mentally shake those ridiculous thoughts from my head, they were often all consuming and destructive if I let them fester. What did I care if someone liked the look of me or not? I was here to get drunk and that was what I aimed to do.
Catching a glance at Ryder, he was beaming as he focused his attention on Taylor, his face lighting up like a lamp when he snared her in his sights. It put me at ease, there was no do
ubt this man was as besotted with Taylor as she was with him. His eyes drew across to me lazily and I shied at being caught staring, he laughed and waved me in closer so the three of us were all squished together. So much less awkward than it had been only five minutes before. From there on in, the night began in earnest and I, too, fell for Ryder’s charismatic charm. For entirely different reasons.
Lucca
Brighton City Airport was still much the same since I’d been there last. Pangs of nostalgia pricked at me when I parked up and scanned out over the dimly lit runways. Ryder and I used to come here when we were in our teens, what used to be Shoreham Airport at the time. We’d lay on the grass and watch the planes take off and land, pretending we were anywhere but Brighton. Even as teenagers, our longing to leave the city behind had been deep. The last time I’d been here was after my father had died and I’d sold a hanger I had no idea he’d had. The hangar had been empty when Ryder and I had pulled open the vast doors, just another Rinaldi Snr puzzle. There was no clue as to why he had a business at the airport. I still didn’t know.
I settled my attention to the old airport building, remembering why I was sitting in the dark and cursed up a blue streak. Memory lane would have to wait. Stella would come flouncing out in no time at all, acting like she didn’t put me on the spot. What the hell was she doing?
I stayed in the car, in no hurry to reconnect with the ice-queen that was soon to be my ex-wife. I was hoping against hope her stay would not be long, that I could endure it unscathed. She was up to something, I could feel it in my gut. Stella didn’t do anything without reason. She’d cooked up some elaborate plan and had set Beaufort and me in her sights.
My phone chirped on the dashboard, most likely Ryder. He was in a bar with his girlfriend and her friend, the picture messages would roll in soon enough. He was as predictable as frostbite on Everest with no gloves. And it’s never one coming through either, he did it to torture me, show me how the other half lived, how normal people lived. He’d sent me his fair share of picture texts through the years, most not fit for public eyes.
Opening the message, I read the caption first; ‘wish you were here, dickhead!’ Well, that’s inventive, like he’s never called me that before. I smirked at the goofball, he was at the local pub, I wasn’t missing out on that much.
I flipped my phone on its side to get a better look at the picture. The most stunning pair of eyes I’d ever seen stared back at me. Deep russet brown, swirling full of emotion, eyes you could melt into like chocolate. Hypnotic. I studied the picture closer, pulling the phone to my face, recognising those sad brown eyes from the cafe, the day we looked at the restaurant that first time.
Scanning the three of them, Taylor tucked under Ryder’s arm, looking all cosy. Beside her must be Laura, my eyes kept drawing back to the beautiful woman. I forgot where I was as I scrutinised the picture more closely, wishing I was there, like Ryder’s caption said. Unquestionably a dickhead. I wanted to be huddled close to the woman whose enormous eyes had captured me the second I’d looked her way. I zoomed in, on Laura, and laughed. She’d been taken by surprise, looked awkward as hell, and gorgeous. This woman staring back at me with a cute grimace had a hidden depth in her eyes too; something shifted in me, stirred a taste. I considered what it was like to want someone, really want someone for the first time. It startled me, and I felt ridiculous that a simple picture could have the effect it was. For the umpteenth time, I regretted taking Stella’s call.
Shit, I was losing my mind.
A sharp rap on the window next to my head scared the shit out of me. The soap opera that was my life glared through the window. Frosty, steel grey eyes tight with annoyance met mine. She stood unamused as I scrambled to close out my phone and tuck it into my pocket. My headache from earlier punched right back at me, making me feel queasy. Scratching the scruff on my chin, I turned back to Stella, refusing to pull the window down. I did a double take and muttered ‘shit’ a few times when I saw it wasn’t only Stella making an inconvenience of herself. Oh no, bitch from hell number two had tagged along.
Could it get any fucking worse?
Alexa Carter was standing behind Stella looking far too goddamned smug for my liking. Ryder was going to flip his shit, especially with Taylor around. Stella and Alexa together equalled the stuff nightmares were made of when they set their sights on you. Guaranteed they’d have Taylor in their crosshairs the second they figured out Ryder was dating her.
I tipped my head back in frustration, asking whoever was fucking with me to kindly stop now. What the hell had I done to deserve this? Sighing, I squinted back at Stella when she moved away from the side of the car.
“There you are!” Stella exclaimed the minute I got out. “I brought Alexa along, darling. I hope you don’t mind.”
Like I ever had the choice...
She sidled up to me, then pushed me towards the baggage trolley loaded with obnoxiously expensive luggage. I moved toward the poor bloke who looked like he couldn’t wait to escape and thanked him, ignoring the two bitches yakking about the poor service on the plane behind me. Lugging the cases into the boot of my car, I barked at them to get a move on.
I sped back to the house in silence, not apologising for it either. I didn’t want to be in the car with either woman a moment longer. When I pulled up in the darkened driveway, I slid from the car the second the engine stopped and strode to the house, seriously pissed at myself for allowing this to happen. A cough from behind gave me pause, I swirled around on my feet, meeting Stella’s formidable stare.
“Bags, darling?”
The condescending tone of her voice pushed pins into my skin as she arched her eyebrows at me. She was grating on my last fucking nerve and I’d barely been in her company for an hour. Alexa wisely remained standing at the car, silently. I looked Stella up and down, making sure she got a hint of the derision pouring from me, then marched back to the car, flinging open the boot. Grabbing at two cases, I hauled them toward the house, unceremoniously dumping them on the porch then unlocked the front door. I was being an arse, I couldn’t have cared less.
Stella grappled with her case, struggling to pull it into the foyer. Huffing in disapproval, she looked around the large reception area, her face scrunching up in distaste. The old property was homey and warm and lived in, pictures lined the hallway walls, so far removed from our life in York, with intention. Stella hated it.
I hurried down to the kitchen and grabbed some orange juice from the fridge, drinking straight from the carton. Escape to my room and locking out the vapid atmosphere this pair had dragged from God knows where, was a mighty fine idea. Searching for some painkillers in the cupboard above the cooker, I found a packet and popped two in my mouth as I guzzled more juice. I traipsed back into the foyer, making sure I looked unaffected by them being here. Showing no emotion gave her no ammunition.
“You’ll have to share a room.” I stared Stella in the face, daring her to complain. “Last door down the hall. Or get a hotel, but good luck with that.”
Holding up my hand, I stopped her. “Not negotiable.” I stink eyed first Stella, then Alexa, neither saying a word for a change. Maybe they’d finally picked up on the fact that they’d royally pissed me off. “Ryder won’t be home. Leave him the fuck alone, Alexa, or you can get the fuck out of my house. All right?”
Alexa’s hackles went up as she snapped back at me. “Oh, he’s out banging his whores, is he?”
Her comment aggravated me no end, knowing exactly where Ryder was right now. Having a better time than me for sure. Since arriving in Beaufort, before that even, Ryder had calmed his slutty ways and hadn’t had anyone over for a long time, including Taylor. This pair didn’t need to know that of course, having the upper hand for a change was energising. I smirked at Alexa.
“You’d know about that, huh?” If she was offended she didn’t show it, the woman had little shame. “And no, he isn’t.”
Alexa’s face transformed into something akin to a hungry w
olf. She knew Ryder well; if he wasn’t shagging anything that moved, then he was doing other things. I back-peddled, hoping to get away with the mistake.
“He doesn’t bring his whores back here.”
A disappointed look flashed across her ugly face. The woman would love nothing more than to sink her claws back into my best buddy. No fucking way, wasn’t happening again.
I skulked away, mumbling a goodnight as I went, beating a hasty retreat to the sanctuary of my room. Leaning against the closed bedroom door, I told myself it was over. Stella and I were done, she couldn’t get to me anymore. I had to push her to the back of my mind, not let her rile me up.
Half an hour later, the house fell silent. I stripped down to my birthday suit and climbed into bed at half past ten on a weekend night. Since moving to Beaufort I’d enjoyed the freedom from Stella, she knew she wasn’t wanted in this room, so I relaxed, feeling comfortable enough to remain naked. My boxer briefs always strangled my poor nuts by the time morning came, sleeping nude was the way to go. Opting to stare out into the inky, dark sky, I didn’t bother getting up to draw the curtains.
Reaching over I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, wanting to list all the people I had to contact in the next few days, to get this restaurant up and running. I made sure my lawyer’s name was top, I could find out where things lay with the divorce, too. I didn’t want it taking any longer than necessary.
Finished with the memo’s, satisfied I’d remembered everything, my mind wandered back to Ryder and his candid selfie. Well, not a selfie, more a candid shot. I brought up the photo on my phone again and studied the three of them, noting how comfortable they all looked together, even though this was a first meeting for Ryder and Laura. Yet still, there was a haunting to her eyes I couldn’t put my finger on. She held my attention like nothing before, no other woman had ever looked so utterly captivating.
She was the absolute opposite of Stella. Dark waves of hair framed her face and her awkward smile screamed a subtle warmth. It was a silly notion, I wanted to think that smile was for me, and for me only. I struggled to grasp onto the way she was making me feel. Hope. I think that’s what it was. Hope for something I didn’t even know.