by Sands, K A
The amount of people who’d said Beaufort sorely needed a place where they could eat and drink some excellent fare, had been numerous. The conversations were almost the same the room through. The villagers loved Italian food, loved the restaurant. “Interest.” I was sure of it. Platters were emptying at a vast rate, champagne glasses on a constant refill - all free. Warren had been in and out of his kitchen more than once through the evening. “They like our chef too.”
“This is great, Ryder. I’ve got a good feeling over this.”
Lucca didn’t see her when she walked through the door. My breath hitched when I clapped eyes on her though, looking so much like Taylor. Emotion swelled in my throat, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. She meant the world and more to him, and she was here staking her claim, saying she felt the same way. I gave a coy smile over his shoulder to the maitre’d, watching as his eyes widened before he turned around. I gripped his shoulder. “Go get your woman.”
I bowed out and moved back into the shadows of the room. This wasn’t my moment. It was Lucca’s.
Taylor hadn’t come.
My heart pinched, and my skin grew clammy to the point I felt too warm. Ripping my tie from its knot, I let it hang loose and looked at my feet, shoving my hands miserably into my pants pocket, cracking a little bit more.
Laura and Lucca deserved happiness, a future they’d found in each other. To see my best friend shining with love for someone was all I’d ever wanted for him. I knew he’d find it eventually, the man was too good not to be loved by someone like Laura. They were perfect for one another.
Real men didn’t cry but really - who gave a fuck - I wasn’t far from it. Disappointment leeched through me and I could have crumbled to the floor in front of all these people and not cared. I glanced up at the doorway again, hope a fickle bitch and while my best friend’s dreams were coming true, my nightmare stuck in my throat. The glint of happiness that’d briefly outweighed the heavy sadness that had been my ever-constant companion these last few weeks, fell away quickly.
Scanning the room, the obvious success of the launch was everywhere. Loud chatter pulsed around from pleased and hopefully future patrons. But Taylor wasn’t there and without her I was in no mood to celebrate any longer. Turning to leave, my eye caught sight of a familiar figure standing awkwardly by the front podium. She had her back to me, but I’d know her anywhere.
Anger bit at me. Instead of escaping through the back as I’d originally intended, I marched toward the front of the restaurant, snatching her arm and spinning her around when I reached her. Propelling her outside, my anger ignited, I didn’t need a scene on this night, not with her.
“Move.” I growled as I coerced her from the front of the restaurant and onto the expanse of the wooden dock none too gently. Once I’d pulled her out into the chilly night, I stopped and looked her over, dropping her arm, disgusted she would come here tonight of all nights. She looked like hell; her dress loose on her frame which wasn’t her style and didn’t suit her at all. Flat sandals instead of sky high fuck me shoes looked foreign on her feet, as did her bare arms with no coat. It was fucking freezing. I took in her face as she stood limp, her eyes vacantly staring at me, a watery smile on her pallid lips. Dark hair fell across her eyes where shimmered tears threatened through blackened eyes.
Fucking hell...
My fury fell away quicker than the nightly temperature when I studied her closer. No matter how much I despised this woman, a hint of pity struck me, she’d come for a reason, her beat up face telling me it was nothing good.
I stripped off my suit jacket and tucked it around her shoulders, having no coat, or anything, she had to be freezing. A hesitant smile flitted across her face and I felt like a giant prick for manhandling her so roughly. She was already upset, I hadn’t needed to add to it, to make her feel worse.
“I need help, Ryder. I didn’t know where else to go.” Her voice was low, shaky. Lacking the confidence and conceit she normally carried in her words.
The right thing to do was offer comfort, I knew this. Someone in distress needed comfort. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to move any closer or to touch this woman any more than was necessary, and certainly not to soothe her.
“Why come to me?” My pity curled, withered and died when I remembered all the shit that had gone on between us. I tried to keep the bite from my tone and knew I’d failed miserably when she flinched.
“There’s nowhere else.” She sniffled, the noise getting my back up.
“I don’t believe that for a second. You can’t be here. I don’t want you here.” I couldn’t say it any clearer and it wasn’t like it was the first time she’d heard the same from my mouth.
“I need you.”
Stepping back, I moved away, anticipating an escalating situation I wasn’t willing to get dragged into. She was renowned for her antics, her public displays of outrage and whatever else she saw fit to cause a scene for. I wanted no part of it.
Not then. Not now. Not ever.
“Go home, Alexa. There’s nothing for you here.”
Six
“She’ll call when she’s ready.”
I banged the mug down on the desk in front of me, sloshing brown liquid over my knuckles and across paperwork. “Fuck!”
“You need to calm down, Ryder.”
What I needed was Taylor, not to calm down. Not another bitter fucking night in my bed where I chased sleep and missed my girl. Not another day of the silent treatment. Not another day of feeling empty. Fuck it! If she wasn’t talking to me anymore it was time to make moves. Enough was enough. She couldn’t say no if I was standing right in front of her face, I’d force her to talk by confrontation.
“I’ll be up on the weekend, Phil.” I piled paper towels over the mess of sodden wet documents with the vain attempt to save them.
“She won’t see you, don’t waste your time. She isn’t ready yet, Ryder. Give her some time.”
His words had me seeing red. “Time? Like a month isn’t enough time? I haven’t seen her in four goddamned weeks, Phil. Don’t talk to me about giving her time.” I didn’t feel guilty for raising my voice at Taylor’s dad, nope. I was beyond rationality.
“I’ll get her to call you, it’s the best I can do. You won’t get through my gate if you’re foolish enough to show up here. Consider yourself warned. I like you, Ryder, but she’s my daughter. Respect her wishes, stay away.”
Now, I liked the old man right back, but I could have thrown him from the top of a very large building and not batted an eyelid when he told me to stay away, like I was some menace to his daughter, not a man pining over the love of his life with not a fucking clue.
My coffee mug hit the wall, shards of crockery clattering to the floor while I seethed in my seat. I wanted to call him an arsehole and her a bitch, but I couldn’t bring myself to curse either. Slumping backwards in the seat, I ended the call. It was pointless listening to the same old shit from Phil. I’d heard it every time I’d called him to try to plead my case and get him to make Taylor see some sense and talk to me.
What a mess - the cup and my life. If I knew what I’d done wrong, then I could sort it out. I had no more answers today than I had the morning she sneaked out of bed. I’d stayed away because she’d asked me to, but her time was up, she was killing me slowly and I couldn’t take it anymore.
I missed her, ached for her every second I was without her. Nights were abysmal, if sleep ever did come it was more a passing out once reaching the bottom of a bottle of Johnny Walker - and I hated that shit.
Kicking my feet up on the desk, I stared up at the ceiling. She was safe, that’s all that mattered. She’d been calling every few days until last week, I didn’t understand why she wasn’t answering now, but she was safe. The restaurant was opening proper in the next few days, we were booked solid, I couldn’t take much time off. But, I had a plan and I was hoping to pitch my idea to her, maybe she’d meet me somewhere that wasn’t her dad’s place. One thing was
for sure - I wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“You okay, bro?”
My sigh was long and heavy as Lucca eyed the ruined coffee cup and the splattered wall. He plonked his arse on the corner of the desk, dropping flyers in front of the computer and picking up the sodden paper towels I’d yet to move. He dropped them in the waste basket next to his feet then folded his arms over his chest.
“Another mug? Do I need to buy you some plastic shit, like toddlers have?”
Pulling my feet from the desk, I righted myself in the chair. “Very fucking funny.”
“She’ll come home when she’s ready, Ryder.”
Yeah, not quick enough for me. The weeks past were adding up and this was stretching on for far too long. I didn’t want to be angry when I finally got to see her but that was looking more unlikely as the days trundled by. I was fearful the longer she stayed away, the less she saw Beaufort as home. The less she saw a future with me.
“No shit, Sherlock.” I scowled at my friend, he looked all cheery and glowing and shit and God, what a pussy I was turning into.
“Come on, man. This isn’t doing anyone any good.”
I didn’t want to get drawn into a long-arsed conversation about Taylor again, my head was going in far too many circles as it was. It hurt enough. “Drop it, yeah?”
If she wasn’t talking to me this week, then she wasn’t talking to me next week either. That was a given. I’d made my mind up - one more week then Taylor was going to know I was coming, and she was giving me answers. I was getting to the bottom of it. She wasn’t getting to run and hide any longer.
Once the restaurant was opened fully, I’d planned to sink myself into getting the club up and running, leaving Lucca to manage Sapori D’Italia. I’d already talked to Martin and he was eager to have a hand in and manage the club in Brighton. At least I had a plan in place should Taylor kick my arse to the curb and tell me to fuck off once and for all, it was a distinct possibility. I didn’t want the flat, it was a back-up plan, but it made sense if she wasn’t coming back. I wasn’t sticking around Beaufort without her. If my heart wasn’t there, neither was home.
“You coming to stay at the house again tonight?”
“Yeah, maybe.” I stopped to think. “Yeah. Okay. That sounds like a good idea. I can crash another night.” It was far better than the alternative.
“Door’s always open, Ryder. No invite needed. Ayden changed his mind, him and Jake are coming down for the weekend.”
I smirked thinking about the not so little shit. “What’s with that pair? They got something going on?” Those boys were thick as thieves. Jake being the quieter of the two, but he always had an eye on Ayden, most likely had a crush going on for his bestie.
“Not that I know of.” Lucca had a faraway glaze in his eyes. “I’d know, right? I mean, he’d tell me. He doesn’t need to keep his relationships from me.”
“They’re horny fucking teenagers, Lucca. Whether they’re into each other or not, I bet they’ve ‘done stuff.’” I air quoted.
“You think?”
Lord, my best friend was clueless at times. I cackled with laughter at his naivety. “You don’t think?”
“We’re as close as them. We never did,” he grumbled, his memory clearly failing him.
“Uh, yeah. I think we did, Lucca.”
“Once, Ryder. Hardly counts.” He coughed, colour tainting his cheeks a glorious colour of red.
“Yip. Quickest way to figure out you’re not into dudes. Give your male bestie a hand job.”
Lucca grinned...then shuddered. It hadn’t been too bad. At least, it hadn’t repulsed me like it clearly had him. Idiot. It was just a cock for Christ’s sake, he touched his own plenty I bet. “I love you, bro. But you touching my cock like that once was one time too many.”
“I feel you!” We both burst out laughing and I felt lighter for the first time in days. “I’ll be up for dinner. I best clean that shit up.” I pointed to the hole in the wall the mug had left, right next to the other two holes; a product of the same mug throwing anger. I had to stop it, Lucca was right.
When he left I questioned why I hadn’t told him Alexa Carter had been outside the restaurant the night of the launch, the afterthought seemingly insignificant. I pushed it to the back of my head, she wasn’t my concern. Taylor was. And I was getting that fixed.
Seven
Taylor relented. Phil had pitched my idea to her, as yet again, she was ignoring her phone when it came to me. Sending me a text with the name of a pub, a date and a time, I had to be happy with it. Pissed off it was text, I pushed my anger down and focused on my eager little heart’s pitter patter of excitement at seeing Taylor. I was proud of myself for having given her what she’d wanted the last few weeks, namely staying away but I was chomping at the bit to see her in the flesh. I could gauge where her head was at when I saw her, she wore her emotions on her face and was such a bad liar that I’d manage to get a measure of what was going on, face to face.
It hadn’t escaped my notice the pub was in the middle of nowhere and miles from her dad’s house. I knew Emille was still sick but surely closer to home would have been easier - unless she was telling me to fuck off, of course. She knew I wouldn’t make a scene in public, wouldn’t embarrass her that way. So, I didn’t get why it was almost sixty miles from Phil’s.
Having not drowned myself in Jack or Johnny the last few days and having been already ‘groomed’ for the soft launch, I was looking all right. No bags under the eyes, no beard with yesterday’s dinner in it. I’d brushed my teeth, combed my unruly hair, may have even bunged some man wax in it. No way was Taylor seeing the shell of a man, whatever was going on, I wanted her to see someone who could shoulder the lot with her. And if it was just me, I wanted her to look at the hunk of a man I was and swoon all over me again, remember what she loved. Who she loved.
Yes, guys had those thoughts too. When I manscaped - it was for Taylor, not for me.
Satnav had directed me to the quaint pub with ten minutes to spare and as I parked, I noted Taylor’s car was nowhere in sight. My anger had lessened but I was still feeling the sting of rejection, the not knowing where the hell I stood with Taylor. A weary buzz fizzled under the skin. It wasn’t the foot I wanted to lead the meeting on, so I took a few moments to get my head on right, hoping I could keep my ire at bay. I hadn’t seen her in so long, but the apprehension was taking over the excitement at seeing my girl again.
I dragged my gloomy arse into the pub, the details of what it looked like I couldn’t tell you, I only had Taylor on my mind. I saw her as soon as I entered, couldn’t miss her, she was all I saw. Sitting in the furthest corner, drinking what looked like tea judging from the pot in front of her, a manila envelope lay off to the side of her - a thick envelope - I knew instantly my answers lay inside.
Approaching the bar, I asked for a coffee and pointed to where Taylor was before stealing my spine and strolling over to her, my swagger as false as the smile on my face. She barely looked up at me when I coughed for her attention.
All right then...
I dumped myself down into the plush booth she’d commandeered, instead of sitting facing her on the opposite bench, I squeezed in beside her and tried my damndest to give her the biggest smile I could muster. My heart fucking broke at the sight of her. I wanted to hold her, touch her, kiss her. The frosty reception made me keep my hands and my lips to myself, the sentiments unlikely to be returned. She’d made it perfectly clear when she couldn’t bring herself to look me squarely in the eye.
Well, fuck...
Coughing again, my nerves got the better of me and sweat trickled down my back. No matter what I’d told myself, I wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t ready for Taylor and me to be over. She was my be all and end all, life was hollow without her. The woman sitting beside me told a different story, like I was an inconvenience she had to deal with, so she could then tell me to get lost. Like she couldn’t wait to get me out of her life. And fuck, that cut
deeper than any other shit I’d dealt with in my 38 years on this earth. For once, I truly felt like I was about to lose everything.
“Thanks for coming.” She said quietly.
“Well,” I bit, unable to help myself, “I would have come sooner, Taylor. You kept blowing me off.”
She hesitated before picking up her tea cup and sipping the hot liquid. A coffee was pushed in front of me, the waitress towering over the table, her presence unwelcome, the coffee not. “Thank you.” I uttered dismissively, pouring sugar and milk into the black liquid and stirring, all the while taking Taylor in, casting my eye over her, greedy to get my fill.
She was paler than ever, her skin chalky white as opposed to the milky white she normally was. Not even a tinge of colour crossed her cheeks. No make-up either. She didn’t need it, I’d told her often enough, but she’d always insisted on a little of this and that, mascara or something. There was no sign of it today. No jewellery; her necklace gone, her myriad of jangling gold bangles absent. It was a silly thing, but I missed the noise.
I pointed to her neck. “Where’s your chain?”
Her hand moved upward, and she fingered her collar bone. “It broke.”
“Figures.” I mumbled. “Couldn’t fix it, no? Or get your dad to? Take it to a jewellers or God forbid, call me and I would have sorted it, Taylor.”
The necklace had been a Christmas gift, a snug fitted gold chain with a steampunk heart pendant attached to it, a symbol which matched my greatest tattoo. The ink that hurt the most, meant the most. She’d cried when she’d opened the box, knowing the significance. I had the same etched onto my skin, across my chest, it was her favourite tattoo of mine. But now - the chain was broken? Or missing, or somewhere in between, who the fuck knew?
I wasn’t sitting there like a chump when I’d done nothing wrong, my temper was unfurling hastily, and I couldn’t lay it on Taylor, no matter how I felt right then. So, I cut to the chase and told her straight out. “You owe me an explanation, maybe even an apology. So, get to it.” I couldn’t let go of my bitterness. My poor heart couldn’t flip anymore, not this way.