chapter eight
Langley’s didn’t appear like much from the outside. Barely even a door with a sign, but that was on purpose. The restaurant didn’t cater to the masses and tables weren’t available for anyone to walk off the street to catch an impromptu lunch or dinner. It was a year-in-advance-booking-only sort of place. The sort of place you had to be one of the elite to even get a year-in-advance booking. Sebastian Saunders was one of the elite. Or at least his father was, which filtered down to him. There was always a table waiting for those who worked for William ‘Will’ Saunders.
As Seb opened the blacked-out glass door and stepped into the narrow entrance, a waiter dressed in full black formal wear trotted over. “Good evening, Mr. Saunders. Your usual table, sir?”
“Evening, Frankie,” Seb greeted with his best work smile. “Actually no, this isn’t business today. Do you have a chef’s table free?”
“Ah, I see, sir. Yes, we can make a table available to you in the private quarters upstairs. Let me get that ready for you while you take a drink in the lounge.” The waiter held out his arm, allowing Seb to guide Jay through the dimly lit narrow corridor.
The lounge area was all low beams and darkened wood, illuminated by faux candlelight, boasting a small curved bar, with several bottles of spirits displayed on the back shelf. Four white leather stools were placed evenly around the counter and a single crimson sofa was set beside a mock fireplace, with music tinkling out from the hidden speakers.
The place was void of any other customers, and as soon as Seb slapped a hand on the counter, a waitress wearing the same androgynous attire as the previous waiter stepped up behind the bar. She wiped down a glass with a pristine white towel, her blond hair pushed back into a severe ponytail. “What can I get for you, sirs?”
Seb swivelled to face Jay standing awkwardly behind him “Can you drink?”
“In moderation.”
Seb smiled and tapped the counter. “We’ll take a bottle of the 95 Chateau Margaux.”
“Excellent choice, sir. I’ll just pop out back to grab you the bottle.”
Seb perched on one of the stools as the bartender hurried off to the wine cellar. Jay sat beside him, raising his eyebrows.
“So you’re a regular here, then?” Jay’s accent thickened. “Winin’ and dinin’?”
Seb couldn’t help the chuckle. That accent washed over him like he was sliding into a warm bath and gave him an unbridled feeling of home. Not exactly his home, but somewhere he thought back on with melancholic fondness.
“We use Langley’s to meet with clients.” Seb drummed his fingernails on the counter.
It took all his effort not to reach out and touch Jay. He wondered why he’d bothered with the public dinner rather than just inviting him back to his apartment. Nerves, fear of rejection, perhaps? Jay hadn’t returned a single message from the ones Seb had sent, so he couldn’t be sure Jay felt the same emptiness in his life Seb did. He certainly didn’t appear to be worn down, in fact quite the opposite. Maybe what Jay had said back in the office was right—it was simply rude not to check out a mate living in New York when visiting the city. So Seb attempted to continue the idle chitchat.
“My father set up a deal with Marco, the owner. We get a percentage off the bill if we have regular meetings here. Usually, Stephen does the meet and greets. After all, he is the smarmy liar of the team.”
Jay bowed his head, wiping off imaginary dirt from the pristine gleaming countertop.
“Occasionally, though…” Seb took a deep breath, his brain mulling over Jay’s reaction to Stephen’s name. “Clients ask for me. They want to meet the boss’s son. You know, see if I’m a carbon copy? Some are rather disappointed. Many, perhaps not surprisingly, are not.”
The bartender returned, corkscrew in hand, sparking a pop in the conversation. “Would you like to try, sir?”
“Just pour it. I know it’s good.”
The bartender did just that, then drifted away as silently as she had emerged.
Seb held up the half-filled goblet. “Here’s to your incredibly convenient match fixer fellow.”
Jay laughed, clinking his glass with Seb’s. Taking a few sips, Seb sneaked a glance at Jay. The beauty of the man in front of him hadn’t diminished from how Seb remembered him. Jay seemed more relaxed, though. Perhaps it was the foreign surroundings? Jay had always been a little on edge back in London, worrying about being seen. But here, Jay exuded a new-found confidence as he sipped the deep red wine from the crystal goblet. His well-fitting, designer jeans and shirt clung to his muscular and toned frame, and his usually floppy blond hair, now styled into a brush-over, lifted his soft features and brightened the sparkle in those mesmerising blue eyes. Just as Seb remembered, Jay was a work of art and Seb felt every bit the fucking mess he had been since leaving London, and Jay, behind.
Unable to stand it any longer, Seb settled his glass on the counter and leaned forward. “You have no idea how much I miss you.” He inhaled, noting a hint of fresh and clean-scented aftershave on Jay’s skin.
Swallowing, Jay licked his dry lips. “I think I might have some idea.”
The room around blurred into insignificance and Seb nearly slid off his stool to land between Jay’s open legs. But Frankie sauntered in with two menus in hand, declaring their table was ready, and Seb didn’t know whether to chuckle at the untimely intrusion, or take his first-ever swing at someone. Instead, he stood and they both followed the maître d’ up the open-tread stairs to the private dining area.
A single table set up in front of an open panel kitchen benefitted from the bustle of chefs sharpening knives and griddles sizzling with aromatic spices. As they took their seats, Frankie handed them a menu each. Seb shook his head and leaned over to Jay. “You trust me?”
Confusion spread across Jay’s face, but he nodded.
Handing the menu back to Frankie, Seb smiled. “We’ll have the tasting plate.”
“Excellent choice, sir.” Frankie scuttled off, leaving the two of them alone.
“What have I set myself up for?”
Seb grinned. “The most incredible tasting experience of your life. Your tongue will thank me for it.”
“Will it now?” Jay arched an eyebrow.
Seb swished the wine glass and took a lingering gulp. “Let’s not bring this place into smutsville, Jay. I have a reputation to uphold here.” He dipped forward, lowering his voice to a hushed baritone. “And I’ve just gone hard thinking about your tongue.”
Jay spluttered out the wine he’d taken a gulp of. Wiping his mouth with the cotton napkin, he narrowed his eyes and Seb leaned back, an amused smile dancing on his lips. The spark Seb had all but lost since settling in the city fired into life as Jay cleared up the spilled wine from the gleaming table surface. Seb chuckled and Jay slapped the napkin down, inhaling a deep breath.
“Not that I’m changing the subject or anything, but I got you something.”
Seb widened his eyes, slipping the goblet on the table. “You did?”
“Yeah. Well, I weren’t sure if I was actually gonna get to see you. And ain’t it your birthday soon?”
“August seventeenth, yes.” Seb narrowed his eyes, a smile creeping on his lips. “But how would you even know that?”
Jay’s cheeks tinged beneath his stubble and he rooted around in his jeans pocket, clearly avoiding answering. Seb took that to mean that maybe he wasn’t the only online stalker between the two of them.
“Well I brought something, just in case. That way I could leave it with whoever. It ain’t much. Just something I saw on the way to your office.” Jay slid a small black box across the table with trembling fingers.
Seb’s heart raced with the sentiment that nearly brought him to his knees. Clasping his hand around the gift, Seb brushed his thumb along Jay’s knuckles and held his gaze. Eventually, Jay shrugged and slipped his hand away to settle back in the chair.
Seb ripped open the metal hook, the lid popping back against the spring to reveal a platinum plectrum hung on a silver chain held with a leather clasp. Seb ran his thumb along the smooth pendant, scraping over the diamond inset into the top left corner. Seb’s heart nearly burst through his chest and he held Jay’s gaze that had rendered Seb, probably for the first time in his life, utterly speechless.
“Looked a bit like the one I remember you had when I crashed into you. You stopped wearing it.” Jay twisted the stem of the wine glass between two fingertips. “I liked it. Kinda suited ya.” He took a sip of the wine, probably waiting for some reply, but Seb couldn’t speak, his mouth just hanging open as though he was catching flies. “I mean, if you don’t like it or it ain’t right, then no sweat. Just have it as somethin’ to remember me by.”
Seb gripped the pendant and squeezed. “It’s not like you’re easy for me to forget.” He flicked the chain around his neck and fastened it, bringing the pendant around to rest at his sternum. “Thank you.”
“No worries. Happy birthday and all that.” Jay tilted the rim of his glass toward Seb. “Looks good on ya.”
Seb breathed through a smile. He tucked the pendant down into his shirt and the metal burned into his skin like one of Jay’s kisses.
“Perhaps it would be prudent to ask when yours is.” Seb picked up his glass as the waiters returned to fill the table with plates of miniature offerings. “Just in case, you know?”
Jay licked his lips. “November fifth.”
“Remember, remember, the fifth of November. And I shall.” Seb held up his glass before sipping. “Born on a day filled with fireworks, huh? That’s…rather fitting.”
“Not according to my mum. She pretty much blames them for me coming two weeks too early.”
“Nah. You were just keen to show the world who you were. And I don’t blame you.” Seb winked.
Inhaling a breath, Jay shuffled in his seat and eyed the food. “So, what’s all this grub about, then?”
“These, Mr. James Rutters Ruttman, are little drops of heaven that contain no preservatives, no added sugar and most definitely have no saturated fat.”
“Good to hear it.” Jay picked up a circular blini topped with smoked salmon, crème fraiche and caviar. “You dumped the cheap student special fry-ups for poncy fish eggs?” He popped the canapé into his mouth and chewed, meeting Seb’s gaze.
“You know me.” Seb shrugged, avoiding the hidden depths of Jay’s statement.
“Not really.”
Seb half-smiled, bowing his head. “I never hid anything from you.”
“No.” Jay picked up his glass and lifted it to his lips. “I guess you didn’t. But there was a lot you didn’t say either. You left those things in your lyrics.”
Seb leaned back in the leather chair, eyeing Jay across the table. “You listened to it?”
“On the flight over.”
“Martin said he gave that to you back in February.”
“He did. Lot happened since then.” Jay shifted in his seat. He peered over to the open kitchen, steam and flames masking the view of the chefs preparing at the griddles. Sighing, he rested his elbows on the table to lean forward. “Honestly? I didn’t want to listen to it. I didn’t want to remember. I avoided you getting into my head again. You have no idea what this is gonna cost me in the end.”
“Then why?” Seb downed half the contents in his glass, bracing for the reply. “New York’s a big place. I would never have known you were here.”
Jay laughed, glancing away, and tapped his foot on the dark wood floor. Seb waited, biting his tongue. Eventually, Jay settled his blue eyes on him, eyes that shone through the dim candlelight. “I tried to stop it, but no matter how hard I try, your voice will forever echo through my mind.”
Seb exhaled, his heart pounding. “They’re my lyrics.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure I’ll ever forget them.”
Seb erupted into a smile. “I Wanted You.”
Jay nodded. “So did I.”
Seb bit his bottom lip. “How did you know that song was about you?”
“Lucky guess.”
Frankie interrupted once more and refilled their wine glasses. Seb couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jay. He feared that if he did, this would prove to be all a dream. So he spent the next hour sipping the wine, nibbling the taster offerings and keeping up small talk about his business, Jay’s football, and the love lives of their friends back home, until the time came to leave the restaurant.
Out in the darkened street, illuminated only by the lights of Time Square in the distance, Seb swallowed down the butterflies floating around his stomach with the delightful ensemble of miniature dishes. No one had ever made Seb feel so nervous and so desperate at the same time. And, right then, he wasn’t sure he wanted anyone else to, either.
“Have you got time for a coffee?” Seb asked.
Jay smiled. “Instant?”
“That’s blasphemous around these parts.”
“Bet it is.”
Seb tucked his hands into his blazer pocket and nudged Jay with his elbow. “My place isn’t far.” He angled his head, then leapt across the busy road without giving Jay much of a chance to respond. He assumed he followed, as a yellow cab screeched to a halt and rammed on his horn until Seb bundled Jay inside it.
Seb’s new build apartment block, owned and managed by Saunders & Son and located in Tribeca, downtown Manhattan, boasted a gleaming high-rise glass frontage. Seb ignored Jay’s gaping mouth and paid the cab driver, leading Jay in through the revolving doors.
“Good evening, Mr. Saunders, sir.”
Seb nodded at the attendant manning the front desk, but didn’t bother with his usual reply as he ushered Jay into the elevator. A minute later, he unlocked his door and held out his arm for Jay to walk inside his apartment.
Jay sauntered around the open-plan home, dragging his fingertips along the gleaming black surfaces juxtaposed against the bright white walls. The place wasn’t as kitted out as Seb’s room back home, mostly keeping to the show-apartment decor his father had agreed during the build. But the few knickknacks dotted around illustrated some of Seb’s old personality traits—the guitars, the music magazines, the state-of-the-art stereo system. At the L-shaped counter separating the kitchen from the living space, Jay paused. His mouth dropped open as he gazed out of the window that stretched the length of the back wall.
Without taking his eyes off Jay, Seb pulled out a bottle of red wine from the built-in wine rack. Now he’d had a taste of alcohol, he craved more, and needed something to curtail the other, more prominent, craving lingering in the pit of his stomach. He popped the cork and poured the wine into two midnight-black frosted glasses. Moving around the counter, he handed Jay a glass and tugged on his sleeve to lead him through the sliding French doors and out onto the balcony. New York hit them with brute force—the police sirens, the cackles of pedestrians and the bright lights of the magnificent city skyline view.
Jay leaned forward on the railing and inhaled. “This place is…” He chuckled. “Somethin’ else.”
Seb laughed. “Yeah. I guess it is.” He sipped his wine, the fruity taste sweetening his lips. “It’s probably why my father bought it. I fall in love with this place, I forget the love I lost.”
Jay tilted his head. “Your music?”
Seb snorted. “Well, yes. And that.”
Jay swallowed, his features serious. The pounding in Seb’s chest drummed into his ears as Jay reached out and brushed Seb’s tie with the back of his hand. Curling his fingers around the loose material, Jay tugged and Seb stumbled toward him, his lips finally finding Jay’s.
Seb closed his eyes, his heart hammering. He deepened the kiss and slipped a hand onto Jay’s hip to haul him closer. Jay let out a soft moan, sending shivers along Seb’s spine. Seb had loved that sound. Missed that sound.
Seb’s wine glass slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor, spilling its contents over the gleaming white concrete slabs. Seb didn’t care. The wine was expensive, but he had more and, right then, the only thing giving Seb his ultimate buzz was Jay. Their tongues entwined and Seb ground his body closer, rocking them both.
Releasing Seb’s tie, Jay ran his hand down Seb’s chest and dug his fingers into the waistband of his trousers. He yanked out the tails of Seb’s shirt, scrabbling to get his hands beneath the cotton. Seb shivered as Jay’s fingertips tickled his skin and roamed up his back. Breaking the kiss, Seb threw his head back and trembled. Jay didn’t let up—he lunged forward and kissed along Seb’s neck to his jaw line.
“Fuck, Jay, I need you so bad.” Seb grabbed the hair on the nape of Jay’s neck, yanking him away and slapping his mouth onto his. He sucked on Jay’s bottom lip, losing any self-control he might still have had. He needed Jay. Needed him like nicotine, like alcohol, like air. He snatched the wine glass Jay clutched in his hand, dropped it carelessly on the patio table behind, then caught the look in Jay’s eyes. He sucked in a breath, pausing, waiting. Wondering.
Taking hold of Seb’s tie, Jay tugged him through into the apartment, crossing the living space and found his way to Seb’s bedroom.