Chapter 22 #2
But I need’t have worried. When I open the door to Jake Graves-Holland, he’s as miserable a man I’ve ever seen; his big shoulders slumped, his skin pale as a ghost.
“Afternoon,” I say, cold as the fridge I’m emptying. “Ada and Cece aren’t here, and no one cares that you are.”
“Right, can I still stick around and help?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Cool. I don’t think we’ve properly met. I’m Jake.”
“I know.”
I make damn sure it doesn’t sound like I baked a Black Forest gateau to celebrate Ada riding him like a prize thoroughbred. Rugby player or not, blokes like him can always stand to be knocked down a peg.
Lucky for the All Black, Davis appears. He and Jake shake hands before heading off to lay the last of the traps, and I return to the kitchen.
Half an hour later, the walk-in’s empty, and I call the lads in to help haul the perishables to the skip out back.
Des insists on joining, eager to keep pace with the young bucks.
When they’re done, I lead the men to the bar where three neat piles of leftovers are sitting on the counter. “These are for you,” I tell the boys. “Marinated steak, honey chicken thighs. Bit of ham.”
“Cheers,” Davis says. “We’ve done the bathrooms, the supply closet, the back room, the office, and Des did the kitchen and bar. I reckon we should head upstairs next? Do the girls’ apartment?”
I shoot a glance at Davis, and the All Black, and the idiots are too slow to wipe the hopeful looks off their faces.
“So you two can rummage through their knicker drawers? Not bloody likely. I’ll handle the apartment. Your work ends at the stairs.”
“I’ve already done the stairs.” Davis turns to Jake. “Drink?”
“Might as well.”
“I’ll have one, too,” Des pants, still out of breath from the skip run. Silly bugger only has himself to blame.
Davis walks to the fridge. “Des?”
“G you jumped in and tried to play the hero. But that’s not respect, that’s ego and—”
“Bullshit,” Davis interrupts. “Cece put me on security, and what happened was a security issue.”
Jake groans. “Bro, do you have any idea what you sound like?”
“Fuck off!” Davis says with a scowl. “You can’t give me shit about being controlling. You literally threw Ada over your shoulder in front of everyone in this bar and walked out with her like a caveman.”
“Ada’s into that!” Jake protests. “It was an established dynamic. If you think I ever had control of that girl outside the bedroom, you’re on one.”
“All that aside,” I say loudly. “If you want to be with Cece, you’ve got to tell her how you feel and respect her decision. She’s a big girl.”
Davis’s forehead contracts. “Aggie, you know she gets overwhelmed. Especially with everything going on around here, and that’s not accounting for her money situati—”
“You watch your mouth, Davis Sanderson.”
To his credit, he shuts up. He’s got good manners, at least. Not too much sense, but good manners. Maybe he’ll learn. Then again, Des didn’t…
“You want the truth?” I demand. “The real reason you two are in the doghouse with Cece and Ada?”
Davis and Jake nod.
“I wouldn’t mind hearing it too,” Des says, giving me a pathetic look. “You know I’m still sweet on—”
“Shut up,” I snap, as Jake and Davis hide their smirks behind their drinks. “And you two can wipe those grins off your faces. Seeing as you’ve got nothing but your right hands for company, I don’t know what’s so bloody funny.”
All three men drop their heads like schoolboys caught smoking behind the sheds.
“Jesus.” I take a long pull off my drink and sigh. “Here it is, fellas. No woman likes being treated like a second-rate man, and that’s exactly what you dickheads have done.”
“Bit harsh,” Jake mutters into his whiskey.
“What’d I do?” Des protests.
I ignore them. “Maybe you blokes get it from the movies, maybe it’s just something in the bloody water, but whenever things go to shit, men like you reckon it’s their job to solve everything.
Not talk about it, mind, just decide what the best fix is and run.
And wouldn’t you know it? The best fix always seems to wind up being whatever suits you lot best.”
“When have I ever done that with Cece?” Davis says.
“Don’t take that tone with me, young man.
You’ve been muscling into Afterglow since the day you punched that dickhead hassling Cece at closing time.
Not that you shouldn’t have punched him.
You did the right thing. But you stayed on, basically made her hire you and sure, she could use a hand, and sure, you’ve got plenty to offer, but that doesn’t make you her boss, and it sure as hell doesn’t make you her husband. ”
Davis glowers at the table but doesn’t say anything else.
“I didn’t act like Ada’s boss,” Jake says.
I turn to him with a smile. “No. You just stomped around this place acting like you and Ada were a done deal when anyone with two brain cells could see you were the only one who felt that way.”
He freezes.
“You lied about meeting up with that mouse-slapper, and if you even think about telling me that was for Ada’s benefit, I’ll backhand you into next week.”
“But—”
“Ada hasn’t forgiven you for what happened at school,” Davis mutters into the bar top. “Cece told you that. I could have told you that.”
Jake opens his mouth to argue, and I cut him off.
“Stop,” I snarl. “I don’t know everything about that school business between you and Ada, but I do know you weren’t honest with that girl. You treated her like a fool, and now you’re getting your just desserts.”
Jake says nothing, probably because there’s nothing he can say.
That leaves Des, still staring right at me. I don’t have to go there, but frankly, why the hell not?
“Desmond,” I say. “The bullshit between us started years ago, but it’s the same bloody story. You got in my knickers, then ran off with Gwen, and when I chased you down and asked what the hell you were playing at, you said you married her because you loved me too much.”
“Oof,” Jake mutters.
“Aggie, I never—”
“It’s the nerve of it that turns my fuckin’ head around. As I said, you decided the fix, and the fix was what worked best for you. Same as it was for you puffed-up princes, acting like you’re owed anything more than what you’ve got right now.”
The men all stare into their booze like it holds the meaning of life. I cross one leg over the other and let the moment sit, waiting for any one of them to acknowledge what I just said.
Nothing comes.
I slide out of the booth. “I’m going to make garlic bread. Anyone for garlic bread?”
“Yes, please,” they mumble in unison. I leave them to stew in their shame, returning to the kitchen to fire up the grill. I’ve got three homemade garlic loaves left, and I start slicing them diagonally, thankful I can still hear every word through the service window.
“I’m worried about Cece,” Davis says. “And Ada. On their own, pissed off at both of us. Christ knows what they’ll get up to in Pukekohe.”
“You’re not wrong,” Jake says darkly.
“I don’t get what Aggie meant about you and the boss?” Des says, a touch too casually. “What happened?”
Loves a gossip, that one. Always has.
Davis lets out a groan. “Told me I’m not her boyfriend and to fuck off, basically.”
“Why aren’t you her boyfriend? You’re a good lookin’ bloke, and it’s plain as a dog’s bollocks you want to be.”
“It’s not easy to just tell someone—”
“What did Cece say when you told her you want to be together?” Jake cuts in. “Did she shut it down straight away, or leave things open?”
There’s no answer.
“You did tell her, right?” Jake asks.
The silence stretches so long I almost grill the first lot of garlic bread to charcoal.
“Fuck,” Jake mutters. “No wonder you’re not rooting her.”
Davis makes a noise like an angry bull. “Don’t talk about Cece like that.”
“At least I can talk to women, mate. Not just hang around acting like their unpaid life coach.”
“Oh yeah?” Davis snarls. “And how’s all that talking working out for you, mate? ’Cos the last time I saw Ada, she was on the stripper pole with two other blokes stuffing cash into her shorts.”