Chapter 12 Melbourne
MELBOURNE
ALEXANDER
It feels disloyal to like Sage’s brother, but he’s an affable bloke and we get on immediately. After Sage left, I was prepared to go back to my own suite, but Julian invited me to dine with him and salty Priya, who glared daggers at me throughout a leisurely brunch.
After plates have been cleared, Julian and I are sipping cold brew sangrias and chatting about music (a show he saw in Berlin; I know the singer, though I don’t mention it’s because I’ve slept with her) when he turns his wrist to check the watch that’s no longer there.
With a resigned sigh, he digs his mobile from a pocket.
“Good thing I’m ambidextrous,” he says with a tired smile, laying the mobile beside his plate.
“Are you?”
“Yeah, from climbing. Gotta be equally strong with both hands.” He reaches to run a thumb across Priya’s knuckles, where she’s cradling a mug of oat milk chai. “Hey, uh… is it about time? Pretty close, right?”
She shoots a suspicious glance at me before replying to Julian. “A little early. Can you wait forty minutes? Thirty?”
“I’d rather not,” he says with a sheepish smile.
She scrunches her lips in thought in a similar way to Sage, and I wonder if one of them acquired the mannerism from the other.
“I don’t have them with me. I’ll have to go up to the room.” She pushes her chair back.
Julian’s brow contracts, tugging at the scabbed area near his eyebrow.
“Is that safe, leaving them there? They could get swiped by the cleaning staff. You should keep ’em on you just in case.
” He must realize how panicked he sounds.
With a sigh of laughter, he relaxes into his chair and picks up his drink. “Sorry. I’m sure it’s fine.”
She stands and pauses beside him, squeezing his upper arm, then heads for the lobby. After she’s gone, he sends a nervous side-eye my way.
Setting down his glass and toying with it, he says, “It’s grown into every part of my consciousness, like fucking poison ivy.
” A wry sniff of laughter escapes him. “The other day I put a hand into my pocket and there was a little hole in the seam, and my first thought was, ‘A pill could fall out of that.’ Doesn’t even make sense, because I never keep them loose in my pockets, ever.
But this, uh”—his voice goes tight and he clears his throat—“this problem has bled into every corner of my life. It’s ruined everything. ”
He gives the glass a push and it sloshes a dark stain onto the table linen.
“But even knowing that,” he continues, “I don’t wanna let it go.
I’m counting down the hours ’til I get on that flight like I’m headed for a firing squad.
And I wish Pri wasn’t playing nurse so I could take enough of the fucking things to feel it.
” He scratches gingerly at the back of his head, where there must be another wound.
“There’s nothing as disappointing as having to use junk for actual pain. What a waste.”
I’m not sure what to say. Everything that goes through my head seems trite and insincere. Finally I settle on, “You’re not the first to have done this. Take comfort in following a well-marked trail.”
He touches his tongue to the reddish-brown line of the split lip.
“Yeah, a lot of the trail markers are dead bodies.” His eyes meet mine, and I try not to focus on the web of red in the corner of one.
“There’s a few hundred on Everest, you know.
And a bunch on K2—I lost a toe there.” He presses his fingertip against the spreading coffee stain.
“They’re just part of it now—the bodies. Part of the natural landscape.”
“She won’t let that happen,” I assure him. “You’re not going to fail.”
His expression brightens. “Yeah, Pri is amazing.”
“I’ve no doubt. But I meant Sage.”
Julian scoffs. “Are you kidding? Not to shit-talk your girlfriend, but—”
“We’re not, erm… involved,” I can’t help confessing.
He rolls his eyes with a weary smile. “Ah. So you’ve joined the lonely ranks of people who’ve had to say that.”
“Oh?”
He flicks a cautious glance at me like he’s revealed too much, then shrugs.
“I mean, good luck to you. You seem cool. But Sage wears ’em out and leaves ’em behind like Pirellis at a pit stop.
One guy, friend of mine, he hooked up with her and the next time she saw him she didn’t remember him.
Said, ‘He cut his hair—how was I supposed to recognize him?’ Guy looked so wounded you’d’a thought he took a kick to the nuts. ”
“I can imagine that would be a blow to one’s ego.”
“And the girl who was her publicist at Harrier? They had a fling and when Sage tossed her aside, the girl quit her job entirely. Moved back to Italy, boom. Heartbreak city.”
My stomach tenses, and I’m not sure why I’m worried. I’ve never had a problem keeping things casual, and for that matter, I’ve no clue if Sage has designs on me or is just bored.
“Anyway,” Julian continues, “as for Sage looking out for my welfare or whatever, to be honest she’d be happiest if I OD’d or took a header off Annapurna. She hates me.”
I confine myself to a lift of the eyebrows. “I don’t have siblings, but it’s my understanding that they do bicker. Sage is spirited. But surely she loves you.”
“You can love people and hate them too. We’ve always been competitive, and at some point in our teens she just”—he makes an explosion gesture with his hands—“the gloves came off. It was around the time she almost died from a ruptured appendix.”
In my breast pocket, my mobile vibrates. I take it out to see a text from the contact I’ve labeled “Rosé All Day”—CJ Ardley. The preview reads, Someone just posted a pic of you and Julian Sikora together. Are you getting me some nice dirt, hon?
My pulse quickens, and I try not to look conspicuous as I scan the room for anyone who might be paying an inordinate amount of attention to us.
No one seems to be gawking. As I focus on the doorway to the kitchen—food service workers are notorious gossips; I get a lot of good material from them—another message buzzes. I swipe it open.
Rosé All Day: The boy looks like he caught the business end of someone’s fist. Call me as soon as you can and give me the details. Juicy stuff!
I repocket the mobile. “Must deal with this; my apologies. The bill is paid. It was—”
“I invited you,” Julian says in a tone of friendly offense. “You shoulda let me get the check.”
“Next time.” I pluck the serviette off my lap and lay it on the table.
“You coming back to the room tonight after Sage is off work?”
“I will, yes.” Before taking my leave, I consider telling Julian not to swallow the pills Priya brings downstairs at the table, since someone is clearly watching him. But he’s injured, which is at least an adequate excuse.
With a chummy handshake and some parting pleasantries, I take my leave, hurrying to head up to my room and call Ms. Ardley. Crossing the lobby, I see Priya exiting a lift. She spots me as well, and her expression goes dour and purposeful. She beelines toward me.
“I’m wise to your game,” she says.
“And what game is that?”
“I don’t know what it is yet—just that you’re playing one. Sage may’ve warmed up to you…” She gives me a lip-curled once-over. “For boringly obvious reasons. But I’m immune.”
“Not damaged enough for your taste?” I reply blandly. I immediately feel horrible for having said it, but I couldn’t resist repaying Priya’s jab with one of my own.
“Oh, perfect,” she snaps. “Showing your true colors. Consider yourself warned: I’ve got my eye on you. Even if you don’t slip up, the countdown’s begun. Sage’ll toss you aside like a condom wrapper by race day.”
She gives me a pointedly wide berth as she passes me to head into the dining room.
As I exit the lift minutes later at my floor, another text comes through.
There’s an attached screenshot from social media, two somewhat grainy pics showing Priya handing Julian something out of an orange prescription bottle, and the visible elation on his face as he swallows it.
The observation angle does appear to be from the kitchen, as predicted.
Rosé All Day: Oh, honey, is that boy a pill popper? Spill the tea!
Fuckin’ hell. I absolutely should’ve warned Julian. I stride to my room, hitting the callback button on CJ’s contact as the door closes behind me.
“Hiya, handsome,” she drawls. “It’s about time; I was ready to give up on you.”
“I arrived in Melbourne only hours ago, pet.”
“And got straight to work! What’ve you got for me? Gimme the scoop.”
“Ah, yes. Hate to disappoint you, but he’s not a ‘pill popper.’ It’s antibiotics. He took a fall while climbing. I’m afraid there’s nothing ‘juicy’ to relate.”
Her sigh gusts over the line. “Well, you musta gotten something I can use. Did he give up any fun tidbits? Embarrassing childhood anecdotes, family skeletons?”
“Be patient,” I tell her smoothly. “I’ve got a long game at work, but you must say nothing. Not a whisper. If Sage sees you shitposting, baiting her, she’ll become guarded. Stay under her radar until I get what you need. I’m earning her confidence, getting closer.”
“Ooh, how close? You’re gonna make me jealous.”
“Come now—it’s purely strategic. A girl like her is no substitute for a woman.”
“That so? You’d better not be blowing smoke up my skirt, Al.”
I drop my voice, sultry. “Don’t you dare tease me with visions of what’s up your skirt.”
“Honey, I’m no tease. Ready to find out?”
“Careful who you taunt, love. You’ll end up against the wall in more ways than one.”
She chuckles darkly. “Let’s discuss this a little deeper when you’re back in London. I’ll hop across the pond and we can make a night of it. Now, back to work, tiger. Go get me something good.”