Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
CALEB
T he restaurant is bustling for a Wednesday night, but it only takes me a second to spot our table. Xander and Tristan are already here, their laughter echoing through the air. I make my way towards them. Our weekly get-together is the highlight of most weeks. It’s something we’ve done since we all returned from university. That and socialising. But this is our time… boys’ night.
“Caleb,” Xander says, getting up and slapping me on the shoulder. “Thought you weren’t coming.”
“Ha, ha. I’m not that late,” I say, grabbing the chair next to him. “I’m also not the last one here. Where are Marcus, Quentin?”
“Marcus is pussy whipped. Probably doing the laundry or something before he’s allowed out.” Tristan says, laughing.
“As for Quentin, he’s probably lost track of the time shagging his latest secretary,” Xander adds before pointing to the door where Marcus and Quentin have just entered. “Speak of the devil and his sidekick.”
The guys walk over and sit down. Our waitress appears and takes our order .
“Sorry we’re late. Lucy asked me to drop her off at a friend. Girls’ night.”
“Ahh, the joys of married life,” Tristan sighs dramatically.
“Don’t knock what you haven’t tried,” Marcus shoots back with a wink. Our friend is the first among us to take the plunge. His eyes move to Quentin, and whatever he sees has him flinching.
Quentin was due to fall first until his fiancée left him standing at the alter—literally.
“Well, I’m pledged to bachelorhood,” Quentin says, raising his glass before taking a long swallow. “To those of us left in the Kingland Players.”
The rest of us grimaces at the name we were given in college.
Our group of five became known as the playboys of Kingland College. A reputation we enjoyed and nurtured in our late teens and early twenties. But although life may have moved on, the name and our reputations have remained. A blessing and a curse, at least for most of us.
“How is your new secretary?” Tristan asks, rolling his eyes. “Happy and satisfied?”
“Completely,” he laughs, but I notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. It never does these days. I lean forward only to receive a glare that stops me in my tracks.
Tristan shoots me a look before changing the subject. “Has your new motor been delivered?”
“It has. I’m heading down this weekend to take it for a spin if anyone wants to join me. I’ve booked time at the track.”
“I’m in,” Xander says.
To my relief, Quentin nods. Getting away will do him good. They both share my love of fast cars.
“How many is that now?” Tristan asks.
“Twenty-five,” I tell him .
Tristan shakes his head with a smile.
“I know, I know,” I say with a shrug.
Some might say my car collection is getting a little out of control. But with a racetrack near my mother's.
What can I say? I love driving .
Each car has its own unique features and performance. It’s also not something I get to enjoy on a daily basis living in the city.
“Fine. I’m in,” Tristan says, grinning.
“I’ll let Mum know to expect us.”
I know my mother will be over the moon to have us all for the weekend.
A group of women enter the restaurant and take a seat at a table near ours, looking over and smiling. Xander and Tristan exchange a look, and I can already guess where this evening is heading. I sit back, leaving my friends to it. It isn’t long ago I would have been a part of it. But since New York...
Marcus shakes his head. “Don’t you guys want to find someone you connect with? What about you, Caleb?” he asks.
Quentin ruffles Marcus’s hair hard. “Why would our super stud want to settle down? Last year, it was best friends in Monaco. He’s constantly photographed with a string of models, not to mention that supermodel last week. He gets to play hard and party hard.”
God, my friend makes me sound like a complete womaniser.
Last week, someone photographed me talking to a supermodel whose name I can’t even remember. It was a ten-minute conversation, but the guys and the newspapers assumed she ended up in my bed. The truth is, I dropped her home at the end of the night when she couldn’t get a taxi. I suppose that’s the thing with reputations. Once they’re established, they’re hard to shift .
And the older I get…
Maybe Gabriel's settling down has rubbed off on me.
Identical twin juju.
Then again, who am I kidding? Love is a fairy story told to children, but like every story, it’s a dream, an illusion.
“I’ll leave the happily ever after to my brother,” I say, ignoring the heaviness that’s taken up residence in the pit of my stomach since New York. Her laughter, that smile, and not forgetting her body and those legs. I can’t shake the memory. Not that I would ever admit that to the boys. April is my secret.
“To the continued dodging of social climbers and their mothers,” Xander says, clinking his glass to each of ours. Xander fell prey at my mother’s birthday party/fundraiser last summer, especially when everyone discovered my brother Gabriel was no longer available.
“You are all just cynical,” Marcus says. “There will be a woman for each of you, mark my words. She’ll sneak up on you when you are least expecting it.”
The others groan at his words.
I am cynical. An excessive number of people pursue the Frazer name for their own gain, and I refuse to be used. I won’t be one of those people who plays at love and marriage. I will not compromise and, therefore, have no intention of settling down.
We spend the rest of the evening chatting and catching up. The women from the other table come over, and we leave as a group, making our way to one of Tristan’s bars. My best friend is making a name for himself. Has opened several wine bars across the city and is looking to expand into other major cities across the country.
Marcus makes a speedy escape as we move on, and I don’t blame him.
One lady tries to sit on my knee, her hand trailing into the short hair at the back of my neck. She leans in, the scent of her perfume triggering memories of another woman. A woman who vanished in a puff of smoke. If not for the smell of her perfume on my sheets, I may have assumed I dreamt her.
I tracked her friend Samuel’s dance company to Philadelphia, but he was a bust.
Samuel shrugs. “If she left leaving no forwarding information, then…” He doesn’t need to finish his statement. I know he’s right. She saw us as a one-night stand. I should be grateful. No awkward morning after conversation, no pretending to swap details you’re never going to use.
“I just wanted to check she was okay.” I sound lame even to myself.
“She’s fine. Got back to the UK in one piece,” he says, the conversation getting awkward.
“No problem, that’s all I wanted to know.” I turn to leave.
“Hey, Cal,” I stop as he calls my name. “Thanks. I haven’t seen April smile like that in ages.”
I nod. “Good luck with the show.”
I leave.
Samuel is right. If she wanted me to have her details, she would have left them. I could have used Elijah to track her down, but that was stalkerish. Maybe I misread the whole night. If she wanted something more, she would have stayed instead of disappearing like a thief in the night.
“Want to come back to mine?” the woman mutters, nipping my earlobe with her teeth.
I turn and stare at her, snapping myself back into the present. “I really need to get going,” I say, standing up quickly. Suddenly desperate for the peace and quiet of my apartment.