LAUREN

 

 

Peta pulled me away from the coffee machine as soon as the customers at the café dwindled enough that we could sit in a secluded corner.

“I’m dying,” she said, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder and leaning over the table eagerly. “Spill everything. Now.”

“It was horrible.”

“Horrible? I find that difficult to imagine. And I have imagined it a few times now.”

I looked at her lopsidedly.

“Not you,” she assured me. “Not that I wouldn’t go there. I’m sure that we could make some sweet, sweet love together, but this particular imagining was strictly a Tyler thing. I mean, that man is to die for. Have you looked at him? I mean really looked at him? I showed Shrek his photo and I swear he got a hard-on.”

“Gabe showed up.”

“Shit.”

I nodded glumly and chased the straw of my iced-coffee around the glass with my mouth. “Right in the middle.”

“In the middle of what?”

I looked at her over the edge of my drink, eyebrows raised.

“Oh,” she said. “In the middle.”

“He was drunk. Drunk and angry. He threw a punch at Tyler.”

Peta’s hand flew to her chest and her eyes widened. “What I wouldn’t give to be you just for one day.”

“Peta,” I groaned.

“What?” she said. “Yes, I know it’s old-fashioned and whatever to want two men fighting over you and all, but please, show me a girl who wouldn’t?”

“Sure, sure,” I said, rolling my eyes exaggeratedly. “The thought of it is romantic, but the reality of it isn’t. Well, maybe it could be if I didn’t care for them both, but I do. I never wanted to hurt Gabe. He looked so sad.”

“And how do you feel about Tyler?”

I couldn’t help the smile that covered my face. “I like him.” I toyed with my straw. “I like him a lot.”

“Is that all you’re going to give me?” Peta complained.

“For now.”

“When are you seeing him again?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Peta sighed. “You want time off for when you go up to do the photos, don’t you?”

I nodded and screwed my nose up hopefully.

“It’s a good thing you are best friends with the boss, you know. Otherwise, you would have lost your job ages ago.”

I leaned across the table and hugged her. “Thank you. I’ll owe you. I’ll work double shifts up until then. No, I won’t leave. I’ll eat, breathe and sleep this place. I’ll—”

“Okay, okay,” Peta said, detangling herself from my embrace. “But you have to promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“You will bring him for dinner when he’s down next.”

“We’ve only just—”

Peta held up her hand. “No debate.”

I grinned. “Deal.”

“Shake on it,” Peta ordered, sticking out her hand.

I shook it, laughing. “What about you, anyway?”

“What about me?”

“I’ve been so caught up in my man dramas over the last few months, I feel like we’ve neglected yours.”

“I have no drama,” Peta replied.

“None?”

She held up empty hands and looked at them as if the drama might be hiding there. “No drama. Things are almost dangerously boring. Work is work. The kids are the kids. Shrek is Shrek. The in-laws are still the in-laws.” She shrugged again. “It’s all rather boring compared to your life.”

“Peta, you own your own café, you have three children and one sexy husband. I can’t see how you would find the time to be bored.”

“Maybe bored is the wrong word. I’m not bored as in nothing-to-do bored, I’m bored in the sense that I have too much to do and it’s the same thing over and over. Rinse and repeat.” She took a gulp of her coffee and then her eyes widened and sparkled. “So, your mother will be pleased that you and Gabe are no longer together.”

I slumped back in my seat. “I haven’t told her.”

“She still thinks you’re with him?”

I nodded, picking up the straw and dragging it between my teeth. “They all do. It took enough guts to pluck up the courage to tell them I was with him in the first place, I don’t want to see Mother’s smirking face when I tell her it didn’t last. She’ll be thrilled.”

“So they don’t know about Tyler?”

I shook my head. “Not even Morgan.”

“Your sister is not going to be happy when she finds out. She expects you to tell her everything.”

“Little does she know how little she knows.”

Peta frowned, replaying my words over in her head until she smiled and nodded. Reaching under the table, she patted my knee. “Right. Back to work, it is.”

“But we’ve only just sat down,” I said, pouting and looking at my not even half finished iced-coffee.

Peta shrugged. “Next time, bring me more details.”

* * *

Tyler called three times before I saw him again. The first was while I was at work the day after he left.

I was getting a bag of coffee down from the high shelf in the storeroom and trying not to think of Gabe. The storeroom brought back memories I was trying to forget. Ones where he pressed me against the wall. Ones where his smile was seductive. Then, ones from the night before when he looked at me with so much anger.

Mark, having noticed me struggling to reach the top shelf, leaned against the wall, popping crumbs of lemon slice into his mouth as I balanced precociously on a wobbly stepladder.

“So?” he drawled in the way only Mark could drawl. “What is this new one like? The ‘older’ brother.” Mark placed air quotations around the word older, then crossed his arms again and cocked his head to the side. “Peta says he’s a handsome buck.”

Finally having tugged the bag of beans down, I placed it at my feet and stepped off the ladder. “She said that? A handsome buck.”

Mark nodded. The corners of his mouth twitched as he picked off some more of the lemon slice. “She may have used different words, but I’m sure that was what she was implying.”

I hoisted the bag on my shoulder. Mark followed me back into the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron.

“So?” he demanded.

“So what?”

Mark rolled his eyes as I flopped the bag of beans onto the counter and pulled the lid off the grinder. He did some sort of gesture with his hands, body, and feet. I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to represent the antlers of said ‘buck’, or if he was mimicking some strange ‘buck-like’ mating ritual and he was about to start pawing at the ground and snorting. “The handsome buck?” he said again.

I stood watching as the imitation continued and pondered the answer I should give. “Yes?” I cautiously decided on.

Mark stopped his antics and reached across to rip the top of the bag before letting the beans flow into the grinder. He raised his voice and stuck out his lower lip. “Poor Gabe.”

The guilt was instant. “Have you seen him?”

Mark put the lid on and leaned against the counter, adjusting the tea towel casually thrown over his shoulder. “Just the once. He came in one night while I was closing up, drunk as a skunk, arm around some floozy.”

I laughed. “Floozy?”

“Yup,” Mark confirmed. “Floozy. He looked pretty dark too. Not happy drunk. Dark drunk.” Mark sighed and heaved himself from his leaning post. “Typical Gabe,” he said. “You would think he would have learned by now not to throw tantrums when he doesn’t get what he wants.” Mark paused in the doorway between the kitchen and the café. “Still…” He left the word hanging while he lifted his brows. “His brother?”

My head dropped involuntarily. “I know.”

It was then that my phone rang and I pulled it out of my apron pocket to find Tyler’s image lighting up the screen. It was the profile picture linked to his social media accounts, him leaning against a concrete wall, dressed in a suit, one hand in his pocket, and one ankle hooked over the other. Poser.

Mark peered over my shoulder. “Well, well, well,” he said. “He is a handsome buck.”

* * *

The second call came while I was already on the phone. I was driving back from a whinge session at Peta’s when Billie’s number flashed onto the screen. It was not long ago that I was avoiding her calls, but now I pulled over to the side of the road, eager, and a little nervous, to answer. I hadn’t spoken to her since the investors’ party and I didn’t know what she thought of the recent developments in my relationship status with her step-sons.

“Hi,” I answered, trying to keep my tone neutral from emotion.

“I’ve decided to forgive you,” Billie said without preamble.

I was momentarily puzzled. “Thanks?” I offered.

“I mean, I’m sure you didn’t intentionally set out to break poor Gabe’s heart and in the process tear my family apart.”

“Billie,” I started. “I never—”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” she interrupted. “I’ve decided to forgive you. Not because you deserve it. Hamish is livid, you know. He finally had his boys back together. He finally thought Gabe was getting his act together. He was so happy you brought Gabe back into the family, so to speak, but now, well—” She paused, something knocking around her mouth noisily. “Well, now he’s not so happy. But I’ve decided to forgive you because I’m desperate for some female company in my testosterone-filled world. Tyler said you would be in the city next week.”

“I’m coming up on—”

Billie talked over me. “Meet me for lunch on Friday?”

It was posed as a question but I knew it wasn’t. “Sure.”

“Great,” she said quickly and abruptly. “I’ll message you the details.”

It was then that the call came through from Tyler. I had Billie on speaker so I stared at his image glowing in front of me as I listened to her.

“And Lauren?” she added.

“Yes?” Tyler’s image faded as the call drifted to voicemail.

“Don’t mess with my men, okay?”

I didn’t know whether to fold into laughter or tears. “I never—”

“Tut, tut, tut,” Billie scolded. “Excuses, excuses. It’s about what you are going to do from here, not what you’ve already done. I never thought of you as someone to do this. You were always so nice at school. So don’t mess with Tyler, leave Gabe alone and I’ll see you Friday.” And then the phone went dark.

I sat on the side of the road, the sun setting over the peaks of the houses, one street light flickering erratically, and returned Tyler’s call. He didn’t answer.

* * *

The third call was the night before my flight. I had a shift at the café the following day, and then I would leave to spend three days with Tyler. I wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about it. I was nervous. I was excited. Our calls so far had been brief and slightly awkward, wanting to talk but not completely sure what to talk about. This time it was different.

I was sitting in my pyjamas, slouched on the couch, binge-watching re-runs of a reality cooking show while drinking from a bottle of wine. I didn’t bother with a glass. No one was there to witness my uncouth behaviour. When my phone flashed to life, I muted the TV.

“Sorry I didn’t get the chance to call you back earlier,” Tyler said. “I’ve been in meetings all day.” The background noise drifting through the phone was loud. Clinking glasses and laughter.

“Where are you?”

“Hold on.” The screen changed and asked me to accept a video call. “There,” he said. “That’s better. I can see you now.”

He was standing on a balcony of some sort, the lights of the city twinkling behind him, whiskey glass in hand. His smile was happy and lazy. “I’m at some function for—” He looked away from the screen. “What is this for, Sadie?” He took a sip of whiskey while a faint voice replied, then turned back to me. “I can’t make out what she’s saying,” he said. “I’m at a function for something.” He shrugged and leaned closer, swaying slightly with the movement. “I’m desperate to see you.”   

I laughed and, noticing the way his pupils widened, I wished I was wearing something other than flannelette pyjamas. Tyler was typically dashing in his suit. Groomed to perfection, though a strand of his hair had fallen out of place and hung over his eye.

“Tyler Thornton,” I jokingly scolded. “Are you drunk?”

“Me?” He grinned and pressed one finger to his chest, the others wrapped securely around his glass. “I don’t get drunk,” he said. “But I might be slightly inebriated.”

“Just slightly?”

“I’m here on a professional basis.” He winked. “Of course it’s slightly.” He drained the contents of the glass. “I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s like you’re stuck in my head and no matter what I try to distract myself with, you worm your way back in. I’m sure it’s some sort of witchcraft.”

“Don’t let my mother hear you say that. She’ll have me booked for an exorcism.”

“I want to meet her.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t.”

“I do,” he insisted. “I want to meet all your family. Tell me about them.”

“Now?” I asked.

Tyler moved from his position against the railing of the balcony and sat at a table, motioning for the waiter to bring him another drink.

“Why not?” he said. Then he was blocked by a flash of green. His laughter floated through the speaker, followed by exclamations of surprise and comments that were lost to the music of the background. “Lauren,” he said, leaning around one of the people blocking my view. He reached for the phone and I saw a flash of the night sky, the glow of lanterns, and the side of his whiskey glass before I saw his face again. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Who’s Lauren?” I heard someone ask before the screen went blank.