Chapter Two
Henry
I’m the first to arrive at the Pioneer, so I grab myself a beer, pick up a newspaper that someone’s left on the bar, borrow a pencil from the bartender, and lean on one of the standing tables to do a crossword while I wait for everyone to arrive.
After only a few minutes, I glance up and see a group of young women at the bar watching me as they talk behind their hands, giggling as they see I’ve noticed them. They’re in their early twenties, dressed to the nines, and all gorgeous. I smile politely and look back at my crossword.
Thirty seconds later, Alex comes in, no doubt eager to meet Missie Macbeth. He gets himself a drink, then stands next to me and blows out a breath.
I give him an amused look. He’s never nervous. “So you are human,” I comment.
“I feel as if I’ve eaten a hive of bees,” he replies, rubbing his stomach.
I chuckle. “She’ll be here, don’t worry. It’s going to be a great evening.” I smile at Gaby and Tyson as they approach. “Evening, you two.”
“Hey, Henry.” Gaby kisses me on the cheek.
Tyson slaps me on the back. “You know you’re being eyed up by four twenty-somethings over by the bar?”
“They’re just looking for someone to reach the bottle of tequila on the top shelf.”
He grins. “Want me to talk to them for you?”
“What are you, twelve? No, I’m fine, thanks.”
“But there are four of them. Imagine the fun you could have.”
“I’m an old man now, Tice. I’d have a coronary before the first one got her underwear off.”
He snorts, and Gaby’s eyes twinkle. “Oh, I don’t think Henry’s interested in those bright young things. He has his sights fixed on a rose by another name, don’t you, sweetie?” She glances over at the door, and I follow her gaze to see Juliette coming into the bar.
Tall, slim, and naturally elegant, Juliette Kumar is wearing a sari tonight. The silk is the color of the setting sun outside, which compliments her light-brown skin, making her look young, healthy, and beautiful. The sequins sewn along the edge of the material reflect the twinkling fairy lights. She draws the gaze of every guy in the bar as she walks across to join us, and I’m not surprised. She looks fucking amazing.
Gaby bumps my shoulder with hers. I ignore it and say, “Hey,” as Juliette approaches.
“Hey.” She gives us both a bright smile. There’s something fake about it, though, and her eyes don’t meet mine. Behind her, Cam walks up and nods curtly.
“What do you want to drink?” he asks her.
“Chardonnay, please.”
“James has set up a company tab,” I tell him.
“I think I can afford to buy my girlfriend a glass of wine,” he snaps, and he walks off to the bar.
“Ouch,” I say, amused.
Juliette blushes. “Sorry,” she mumbles.
“Don’t apologize for him,” Gaby says. “He’s a knob. You okay?”
She nods and clears her throat, then leans on the table and looks upside down at the crossword I’m doing. “How’s it going?”
“About three quarters done.”
“Come on then, give us a clue.”
I look at the list. “Spheroidal dilated parts at the end of an anatomical structure. Five letters, beginning with B, ending with S.”
“Boobs,” Gaby says, and Juliette giggles.
“Bulbs,” she corrects, and I grin and pencil it in.
“So why’s Cam got the grumps on?” Gaby asks her.
Juliette’s smile fades. She shrugs. “He wanted to call in and see his brother before we came to the party, but I was late leaving work, so we didn’t get time.”
“I thought your last appointment finished at five today,” I say.
“It did. I had a Zoom call with a few of the staff at Artemis about the robotic knee brace, and then I had a chat to Gillian. It took longer than I thought.”
Gillian Taylor is an expert in orthotics, and I know it’s an area that Juliette would like to get more involved in. They’re based in Melbourne. Did Juliette talk to her about a job? Ah, shit. She really is thinking about moving to Australia.
She’s looking down at the crossword at the moment, and the gold eyeshadow on her lids glitters in the fairy lights. Then she looks up at me. The bindis she usually wears are simple flat discs, but the one between her brows tonight is coral-colored with tiny gold stones, drawing attention to the gold flecks in her brown eyes. The look in them is full of misery and pain. She’s terribly unhappy, and I bet I know why. Ah, Juliette… why are you still with that fucking arsehole?
I let my gaze linger on the glittering bindi, fighting the urge to lean forward and kiss it. She’s always worn one from the moment I first met her in the university bar. Me, Alex, James, Tyson, and Damon, who now lives in Wellington, all studied computer engineering at university together. In our final year, Tyson was involved in a horrific car accident that left him in a wheelchair. The rest of us decided we were going to help him walk again, and we began to work on an exoskeleton that would help support him while he regained his mobility. The one thing missing was a physio who would help us with the medical side of things, someone to carry out the exercises. That problem was solved when, during a rugby match, Alex injured his hamstring and met Juliette. Impressed by her work, and liking her sense of humor and enthusiasm, he invited her to join us in the bar that evening to talk about what we were doing at Kia Kaha.
When she walked in, she was dressed much the same as all the other women in the bar, in tight jeans and a tee, but the blue bindi between her brows marked her as different right from the beginning. Over time, I learned that her father is a doctor originally from New Delhi who moved to New Zealand over twenty years ago, and that her maternal grandmother is Māori and her maternal grandfather is English. Juliette is a combination of these different cultures, all of which are very important to her. She has a Māori tattoo on her right arm, a rose of England on her left, and she wears a bindi between her brows as a symbol of her spirituality. I asked her once if she was a Hindu like her father, and she said she had faith, but not religion, which I thought was a great answer.
I’ve known her for six years, one month, and five days. And I’ve been in love with her for approximately six years, one month, and… yeah, five days. Not that I’ve ever told anyone, least of all her. When she came to the bar, Juliette was already dating Cam, and, to top that, we met the day after I proposed to Shaz. I loved my girlfriend and so I stayed with her, and went ahead and married her, and did my best by her, but sometimes I wonder whether my marriage would have had a different outcome if Juliette hadn’t been around.
I kinda hoped that when my divorce came through, she might finally ditch her wanker of a boyfriend, but even though they’ve had their ups and downs, she’s stuck by him. I’d never make a move on a woman who was taken, so here I am, still single, still in love, and still fantasizing that one day she’ll come to her senses and realize she’s picked the wrong guy.
I don’t know how Gaby has guessed how I feel about Juliette, because I’ve never discussed it with her, but hopefully she’ll keep it to herself. The last thing I need is Alex finding out. He disapproves of relationships in the workplace, and he’ll blow a gasket if he discovers I have feelings for her.
Cam comes back now and passes Juliette the glass of wine.
“Thank you,” she says. “Are you going to—”
He turns away from her, rudely cutting off her question. Her face reddens, and her eyes shine.
Fucking bastard.
Gaby exchanges a glance with her, then says she’s going to check what table we’re at, and gestures with her head for Juliette to go with her. She puts an arm around Juliette as they walk away, murmuring to her, so I know she’s trying to console her.
Cam looks down at my crossword. “Go on then, give me a clue.”
“Standing right in front of me,” I say, without looking at the paper. “Four letters. Begins with a C. Ends in T.”
Alex is in the process of having a mouthful of beer, and he coughs into his glass. Tyson stifles a laugh.
Cam’s eyes flare, and he stiffens. “Fuck you,” he says, with feeling.
I straighten, holding his gaze. At six-four, I’m a good three or four inches taller than him, and probably at least thirty pounds heavier, because he’s a skinny fucker.
“You want to say that again?” I demand.
“Oh look,” Alex says with heavy sarcasm, “here’s Aroha. Hey.”
Gaby’s best friend, Aroha, approaches us, and we all say hello, transformed back into gentlemen by her presence. I’m still bristling, furious at the way he’s treating Juliette, but Alex frowns at me, and I lean on the table again and return my gaze to the crossword.
“Everything all right?” Juliette asks me as she and Gaby return, obviously picking up on something.
I glance up at Cam, who’s still glaring at me. “Fine.” I return to the crossword.
I don’t say anything else, concentrating on finishing the clues. Missie finally arrives just as I fill in the last one, and I return the pencil to the bartender, then pick up my beer and follow the others over to our table. I’m not really in the mood for this tonight, but it’s too late to back out now.
I take the last seat on the bench, trying not to crush Aroha, who’s sitting between me and James, and find myself opposite Cam. Great. Now I have to spend the evening being glared at. I decide to ignore him completely, as I’m sure that will wind him up more than if I glare back at him.
Gaby and Tyson pull up two chairs at the end of the table, one of the waiters delivers a bowl of mulled wine, someone else hands out paper and pencils for the quiz, and then the MC begins his introduction.
From the start, there’s an awkward atmosphere around the table. It’s obvious to me that Juliette and Cam must have had words before they came out, and something’s also going on with James and his girlfriend Cassie, because she pulls out her phone and spends the whole of the first half of the quiz flicking through TikTok and not saying a word.
But the rest of us soldier on with the quiz, and as the alcohol continues to flow, we start to relax. Missie has managed to distract Alex, which is a relief, and Gaby and Tyson are on good form. Those of us who aren’t really into the mulled wine switch to whisky, and James orders doubles, so after a couple of drinks I’m feeling nicely mellow. Cam’s glares have intensified, though, probably because I’m ignoring him, and that amuses me. Everything would be perfect if it wasn’t for the fact that Juliette is quiet and obviously struggling this evening.
At the half-time break, the simmering tension finally comes to a head. James murmurs something to Cassie, who then announces loudly, “Fuck off.” She picks up her purse and phone. “I want to get up, please.”
“Cass…” James pleads.
“Now,” she snaps.
I stand, Aroha scoots along, and James follows. Cassie gets to her feet and, without saying goodbye, heads for the exit. James puts his hands on his hips for a moment, then, without looking at us, follows her out.
“Are they coming back, do you think?” Gaby asks.
I shrug, and after Aroha has slid along the seat, sit down again.
We talk quietly amongst ourselves for a few minutes, and then James comes back into the bar.
“Stay where you are,” he tells us as we go to get up, and he climbs over the back of the bench and slides into the corner beside Aroha.
“All right?” Alex asks.
“Hunky dory.” He finishes off his whisky, then blows out a long breath. “We broke up.”
“James!” Juliette exclaims. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“Are you okay?” Aroha asks.
He nods. “It’s been coming for a while. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. Would you rather I go?”
“Absolutely not,” Alex states. “Time to drown your sorrows. Consolation whisky, anyone?”
I nod, and so do Tyson and Aroha.
“Cam?” Alex asks.
He’s checking his phone, and he shakes his head. “No, thanks, I’ve got to shoot off soon.”
Juliette stares at him. “You’re kidding?”
“I’m going to see Pete and Alan,” he says.
“You promised you’d stay till ten,” she whispers.
At that, he glances across the table in my direction, then looks back at her and raises an eyebrow. Clearly horrified, she blushes scarlet. What the hell’s that about?
“Maybe we should have another bowl of mulled wine, what do you think?” Missie says brightly to the girls.
“Sounds great,” Gaby says.
Juliette is looking at Cam with a hurt expression. She murmurs to him, and he says something that makes her inhale and her eyes flare. I bristle again, hating the fact that he has this power to hurt her so badly.
“Probably best if I go now,” Cam says, getting to his feet. “See ya.” He strides off without a backward glance.
“Cam!” Juliette calls after him, but he doesn’t look back. She watches him go, then turns back to the table and lifts her chin. “I’m not going after him,” she blurts out. Then she looks at me, and her eyes fill with tears.
I want to get up, pull her into my arms, and promise her that I’m going to kiss her until she forgets that bastard ever existed. But I can’t, so instead I push my glass over to her. She looks at the last half-inch of whisky in it, then knocks it back in one go.
“Euw!” She pulls a face. “I hate whisky.” She puts the glass down, then covers her face with her hands. “Oh God. What have I done?”
“You haven’t done anything,” Missie states firmly. “You’re staying with your friends for the evening, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll calm down after a few hours.”
Juliette mumbles something under her breath. I think it was, “No, he won’t.” Finally, she lifts her gaze to me.
I don’t know why Cam looked at me earlier, or why she blushed in response. It suggested they’d argued about me—why would that be?
I give her a small smile. I can’t deny that I’m glad he left. I just hope she doesn’t go after him.
“Well, this is turning out to be quite the evening,” Tyson states. He looks at Gaby. “You want a divorce now or do you want to wait until the end of the day?”
Juliette snorts and James gives him the finger, which makes the rest of us laugh.
The waiter comes back with the whiskies and a fresh bowl of mulled wine.
“Are you staying?” Gaby asks Juliette.
“Yeah,” she says. “Fuck it.” She ladles the wine into her glass. “I’m going to get drunk and enjoy myself with my friends.”
“Glad to hear it,” Gaby says cheerfully. “To friendship.” They clink glasses, and everyone else joins in. Then there’s no more time to talk as the MC starts the next round of the quiz.
Now that Cassie and Cam have departed, the mood around the table improves vastly. We order some platters of food and mince pies to follow, and the waiter is kept busy bringing more mulled wine and whisky to the table.
In between rounds, we chat and tell jokes, and I watch Juliette start to unravel. It’s like everything about her is turned up to eleven; her eyes are too bright, her laugh too high. She’s in seven kinds of pain, but she’s determined to ignore the fact that her relationship is crumbling around her ears.
When the quiz finishes and we collect our prize for coming second—a box of chocolates—the music starts. We all continue to chat for a few songs, but then Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe starts up.
“Everyone up,” Alex states, and we all groan. “I want to dance and I’m not making Missie climb over everyone—up!”
We all slide along the benches and get to our feet. Tyson leads Gaby onto the dance floor, and Alex heads off with Missie.
Juliette watches them go, then looks at me. Jesus, she’s so fucking beautiful. I know she belongs to someone else, but he’s not here, and she’s unhappy, and all I can think is that I want to make her feel better. So I offer her my hand.
I half expect her to decline and say it’s time she left. But her lips curve up, just a little. And then she slides her hand into mine.
My heart soars. I lead her away, onto the dance floor, turn to face her and slide my right hand onto her waist. Then we begin to move.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see James and Aroha also take to the floor a few feet away, but I don’t look at them, giving them their privacy. There’s magic in the air tonight, the whisper of promise, like rustling presents beneath a Christmas tree, and I’m not interested in anything except the woman in my arms.
For a long while, we don’t say anything. Juliette’s left hand rests on my shoulder, and we move slowly together. To an onlooker I’m sure we must look like strangers, with our pose formal, and a good six inches between us.
But I can barely breathe. I know she wears Shalimar perfume because she loves the story behind it—that Jacques Guerlain decided to pay homage to the way that Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal to honor his beloved wife after her death—and the fresh, sensual scent brings goosebumps out all over my skin.
My fingers curl around hers, and I have to fight not to brush her skin with my thumb. She keeps her gaze fixed on my throat, so I have plenty of time to study her shiny brown hair in its neat twist, her smooth, flawless skin, her long dark lashes.
We dance for ages, and gradually, her stiff spine begins to relax, and she moves closer to me. We speed up for a while with Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas is You, and I spin her around and make her laugh, but when Judy Garland starts singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, we move closer together again. Juliette lets out a little sigh, then finally closes the distance between us and rests her cheek on my shoulder.
I wish it was romantic, but I can feel how melancholy she is, how sad. Wanting to hold her, I slide my arm around her waist and pull her against me, and we move slowly to the music. I press my lips on the top of her hair in a gentle kiss, and I know she feels it because she sighs.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, not sure why she and Cam were arguing about me, but hating the fact that I might be the source of her misery.
She lifts her head and moves back from me a little. Her eyes glisten as she looks up at me.
“You always make me feel better,” she says.
I look into her big brown eyes. “That’s what I’m here for.”
She swallows hard, fighting against tears. Ah, she’s so unhappy. It’s breaking my heart.
“Why don’t you talk to me?” I ask. “I’m your friend, right? Tell me what’s bothering you.”
She glances around. “Not here. I don’t want to bawl my eyes out in public.”
“You want to go somewhere else?”
She hesitates, then nods, so I take her hand and lead her off the dance floor, and together we head for the exit, out into the balmy night.