Chapter 21 Rian
Chapter Twenty-One
RIAN
It’s been five days since I snuck out of Rebekka’s bed.
Five days of beating myself off senseless holding her lingerie.
Five days of replaying every fucking magical moment over and over in my head.
And five days of drinking too much in my new bar Elixir, avoiding my loved up brothers, and pretending to everyone I know that I’m busy preparing for our grand opening in a month. What I’m actually doing is convincing myself to stay away from the one woman I can’t have.
I’ve checked my phone a million times, hoping she’ll call or text, but she doesn’t. Anthony’s back from Dubai, a fact I’m only aware of because he messaged the boys’ WhatsApp group to see if anyone was around for poker night tonight.
I can’t face him—not because I’m ashamed I spent Christmas day getting to know his wife intimately, but because if he so much as mentions the word Dubai or Personal Assistant, I won’t be able to stop myself putting my fist through his face.
I scan the bar from my position in the corner. I have a double whiskey in front of me, and a file full of paperwork, but only so no one comes near me. I can legitimately look preoccupied when I’m pretending to sift through a mountain of invoices and proposals.
Soft electric pop fills the air. I warned the staff to stop playing Christmas songs already.
They remind me of Rebekka now. Mind you, everything reminds me of Rebekka at the moment.
I’ve even started listening to the same fucking bedtime affirmations she played, just to feel close to her somehow.
I’m falling asleep with some deceased old lady whispering, ‘You are a gift to the world,’ in my ear.
Ha.
I’d gift Rebekka the world if things were different. But they’re not.
The large double doors slide open and, out of habit, my head shoots up. Stupidly, a part of me is hoping my sisters-in-law will rock up with their sexy, lonely friend, and I’ll get to pine over her in person.
My heart soars as I glimpse Avery and Ivy, then sinks equally fast as my brothers, Killian, Caelon and James follow them in.
Layla, Sean, Zara and Scarlett are hot on their tail, and just when I think it can’t get any worse, my mother and father appear.
An entourage of security surrounds them, each discreetly taking their positions around the bar.
‘If Mohammed can’t come to the mountain, the mountain will come to Mohammed,’ Caelon exclaims, striding over to the corner booth I’d snagged.
‘Mohammed’s working.’ I force the grin that everyone expects of me.
The one that hides the magnitude of pain and pining.
With every passing day, it’s getting harder and harder to keep the facade up.
‘Contrary to popular belief, I do actually work as well as party. I’m planning the grand reopening.
’ I sweep a hand around the room. ‘The construction crew are coming in from the third of January.’
‘So, when’s the opening party?’ Ivy squeals, slipping her hand inside her husband’s as the rest of my family crowd around me, sliding into the booth.
‘February fourteenth.’ I turn to see who’s taken the seat beside me. My mother. God, I love the woman, but she is the only one in this family who sees through my bullshit, and I don’t have the strength to deal with the Spanish Inquisition today.
‘Oh, Valentine’s Day, Baby Beckett!,’ Avery clutches her chest. ‘How romantic.’
‘I think you’ll find the term is “marketable”,’ I say drily.
James heads to the bar to order a round of drinks, and the others strike up conversations among themselves.
‘Are you okay, son?’ My mother pats my arm gently. ‘We haven’t see you since Christmas Day. You rushed off so quickly after dinner.’
I kiss her cheek in a greeting. ‘I’m great, Mother, don’t worry about me. You’ll get wrinkles.’
‘Huh,’ she scoffs. ‘Not while Dr. Davidson is still alive.’ She winks at me and then pats her hair. ‘Congratulations on the new bar.’ She scans the décor, nodding her approval. ‘I like it.’
Caelon and Ivy squeeze into the booth on the other side of me. ‘Baby Beckett!’ Ivy pinches my cheek. ‘Where did you run off to on Christmas Day?’ She waggles her eyebrows.
‘To see a friend,’ I pick up my drink. I think I’m going to need it. ‘Not that it’s any of your business.’
‘Oh, don’t be so coy.’ Avery slides in beside Ivy and Caelon, with Killian right beside her. ‘Is it anyone we know? Or did you just pull out that big old black book of phone numbers you keep in your back pocket?’
‘Speaking of friends,’ Ivy says to Avery, ‘have you heard from Rebekka?’ Concern taints her tone.
‘Not since Christmas morning,’ Avery’s face morphs into a scowl. ‘Can you believe her fucking prick of a husband went to Dubai for Christmas with his PA?’
My mother winces beside me.
‘Sorry, Mrs B!’ Avery turns to her future mother-in-law. ‘I know you don’t approve of the language, but if you knew what that man is putting her through, you’d probably say worse yourself.’
I sit back and sip my drink. Avery and Ivy’s big mouths are actually coming in useful for once. Because whether they realise it or not, they’re laying the foundations for Rebekka and me to have an actual chance at a relationship that my family might accept.
‘Anthony?’ My mother sounds shocked. ‘I find it hard to believe. I’ve known that boy since he was in nappies.’
‘Yes, and he never knew where to shit then; now he’s doing it on his own doorstep.’ I add.
‘You knew?’ Ivy exclaims, the accusation in her tone impossible to ignore.
I inhale deeply. ‘I know, and I hate him for it. We’ve been friends since we were kids, yet I barely recognise the man he’s grown into. Where do you think I went on Christmas Day?’
Ivy and Avery exchange a curious glance. ‘You spent Christmas with Rebekka?’
Guilt slivers into my stomach. If my family had any idea I spent Christmas giving Rebekka multiple orgasms, they’d think as badly of me as they do of Anthony.
‘I’m so disappointed in Anthony,’ my mother says, shaking her head. My father nods in agreement. ‘You’re a good boy, Rian. That was really kind of you to go over so she wasn’t alone.’
I don’t blush. Ever. But there is a definite uncomfortable heat flooding my cheeks now. Thank fuck for the low lighting in here.
‘So what exactly…’ Ivy begins, but I fire her a warning look.
‘Look, it’s their marriage,’ I cut over her. ‘You all know it was arranged between their families. There’s more at stake than just them.’
‘No one knows what goes on behind closed doors.’ My mother worries at her lower lip.
Is she talking about Rebekka and me at Christmas? Or about Rebekka and Anthony?
‘By all accounts, nothing goes on behind closed doors.’ Avery scoffs.
James and Scarlett reappear with a bottle of Beckett’s Gold whiskey and Beckett’s Black Label champagne.
‘Now, what are we doing for New Year?’ Scarlett beams, utterly oblivious to the seriousness of the conversation before she landed over.
I’m beyond grateful for the change in subject. ‘I’m happy to host you all at one of the clubs.’
My father leans back against the leather banquette, cradling his glass. The jammy fucker is aging like George Clooney. I hope I look half as good when I get to his age.
‘I was praying for a quiet New Year,’ he said with a dry smile.
My mother reaches across to pat his hand, her rings glinting beneath the low lighting. ‘Well, let’s all have a quiet one together. Why don’t we all go down to Silverpine Hall for a few days? I hear there’s snow forecast in Wicklow—it would be gorgeous to all curl up in front of the fire.’
‘Bagsie the outdoor hot tub,’ Caelon calls.
‘It fits ten,’ James reminds him with a scowl.
‘I’m pretty sure eight of you won’t want to join me and Ivy in there.’ He shoots a salacious look towards his wife. ‘Zara can mind the kids.’
‘Huh! As you know, I have zero maternal instincts.’ She helps herself to a glass of champagne. ‘Give me business over babies any day of the week.’
‘How is business?’ Sean asks Zara.
‘Booming, thankfully.’ Zara preens. My brothers weren’t convinced when she announced her subsidiary of Beckett Enterprise was going to focus on interior design, but in fairness to her, she’s pulled in some seriously high end clients along the way, and carved out an exceptional reputation for bringing luxury to life.
‘I’m meeting the captain of the Irish rugby team and his wife next week.
They want to discuss a complete internal refurb of their mansion in Clontarf.
And I have this Yank hounding me about some casino he wants to build.
He wants my team and I to design the interior. ’
‘A casino?’ Caelon looks at me. ‘Two of my hotels have casinos here. We don’t need another one in Dublin. It would be bad for business.’
My mother claps her hands. ‘You can all debate this next week. Let’s get back to our plans for a quiet New Year.’
‘It’ll hardly be quiet if we all go,’ my father grumbles, but he’s not fooling any of us. The man loves nothing more than to be surrounded by his offspring and his offspring’s offspring.
Zara throws her hands into the air. ‘Yes, let’s do it! I, for one, could do with a holiday. I’ve been scouring the internet, dreaming of a break. It sounds idyllic. We’ll load up the car with cheese, wine, champagne.’
‘We’ll bring the chefs with us, dear,’ My mother’s eyes widen in alarm. ‘One day of cooking in the year is more than enough for me.’
‘Is everyone invited?’ Layla asks timidly. As the latest to join our family, she’s still finding her feet.
‘You’ll find out soon enough that every Beckett is invited to everything, including the opening of an envelope.’ I roll my eyes.
‘So that’s settled, then?’ My mother glances round the table. ‘We’re all going to Silverpine? Kids and all?’
‘Yes,’ my family chorus.
Whoopee-fucking-do.
Another chance to feel like the last cake left on the baker’s shelf, and having to cover my ears while every single one of my family members has sex under the same roof—apart from me.
Oh, and Zara. If she ever gets a boyfriend, I’ll be the first to interrogate him. Hopefully, that’s a long way off.
In the meantime, at least if I’m at my parents’ holiday home in Wicklow, I can’t do something stupid like turn up at Rebekka’s place.
Every cloud has a silver lining, as they say.