I look up to meet his blue eyes. “I’m sorry about your aunt. She was a nice lady.”
He looks down and nods. “Yes, she was. The funeral was last week.”
“I know. I was there. I wanted to come up to you, but I wasn’t sure…” I stop talking and press my lips together, the tension mounting in the air beaten us, making this moment uncomfortable.
We stand there for a moment without saying a word then he inhales sharply and looks back up. “Thanks.”
He moves to close the door, but I put my hand on it to stop him. “I’m sixteen now,” I blurt out. It’s a stupid thing to say but my brain has gone dead. All I can think about is having him kiss me and hold me, and what it would be like sucking on his lip ring and…I’m a terrible person. I’m supposed to be offering friendship and understanding, not my body.
He shakes his head as if trying to wake from a dream. But, I know he feels what I do. I feel sure of it. “I told you. It doesn’t matter. I’m too old for you, Cody.”
“Will you be too old for me when I’m twenty-three? You’ll be twenty-six. Will you be too old then as well?”
He shrugs, his expression pained and his voice quiet, sorry. “It’d be different then.”
“How? It’s still three years. When I’m twenty-seven and you’re thirty, it will still be three years. Why does that matter when we’ve already waited three years? How long do I have to wait, Brad? I’m in love with you now. I’ve been in love with you all along. And I think you love me too.”
He steps back from the door, shaking his head. “I don’t,” he says. But his voice shakes, and I know he’s lying. I step after him and place my hand on the door so he can’t close it and refuse this conversation.
“Don’t lie to me! I see the way you look at me. I see this pain in your eyes when you’re close enough to touch me, and those girls you keep dating, you’re with them but you’re looking at me. Don’t lie to me and say it’s not true. You’ve just spent three years protecting my virtue and getting in my way, and being a general pain in my arse. And you did it all because you love me.”
“No. That was because…”
“Don’t, Brad. Don’t say you did it for my father. You did it because you couldn’t stand the idea of any other boy spending time with me. You did it because, as my protector, it meant that you were the only boy who could safely be near me.”
He closes his eyes. “Stop,” he growls.
I step closer and get in his face. “Or what? You’ll pretend there’s nothing between us for another three years? Just admit it. Tell me you love me!”
“It’s true,” he whispers, and when he opens his eyes, I see a struggle cross his features. The air between us crackles then all of a sudden, he’s kissing me. Hard. And it’s everything I ever dreamed it would be. It’s a kiss that has me pressed against the wall, moaning and whimpering as I try to touch all of him at once. It’s a kiss that goes further than either of us intended it to go. It’s a kiss we can’t seem to stop, one that’s filled with every bit of longing and want that’s been between us since that first moment we fell for each other. It’s a kiss that turns me into a woman. A kiss that’s supposed to be our beginning. But instead, it’s the beginning of our end…
Seven
Brad
Present day
I whack the bell in the kitchen. “Order up!” I yell, shaking my head because the wait staff is being ridiculously slow tonight. It’s Saturday night, and as per usual, Quay is booked out.
The restaurant is on the water at Circular Quay in Sydney, and it’s one of the hottest gastronomical destinations in town. However, we didn’t get that reputation by being slow with our table service.
I hit the bell again, and a couple of servers finally appear. I give them a burst, berating them over my dissatisfaction then tell them to hurry up and get the food out. They scurry away like mice.
“Where the hell is Ruby?” I growl, wondering where our head waitress is. It’s her job to make sure the floor is running smoothly. She should be here. I turn around to the kitchen staff and bark out a few orders before I remove my cap and apron and venture out on the floor in search of her.
When I appear, there are a few hushed comments. I don’t normally enter the dining area. As the head chef, I’m generally too busy in the kitchen. But when I do, the patrons are always very curious about me. I’m well known since I’m regularly featured in the food section of the country’s newspapers and magazines, and I do a bit of TV too.
I intercept one server on her way back to the kitchen. “Where’s Ruby?”
She looks at me, and her eyes move as if she’s keeping something from me.
“Tell me,” I insist.
“She…she’s outside.”
Frowning, I shake my head then walk back into the kitchen so I can exit through the employee’s door in search of her. When I find her, she appears to be arguing with some guy who’s dressed in baggy jeans and a wife beater singlet. He has more tattoos than I do; they’re all over his arms and across what I can see of his chest as well as up his neck and on his hands.
“Ruby,” I call out as I approach.
She glances over at me, her flame red hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck, her makeup minimal as she wears her uniform of a white blouse, black vest, black skirt and apron. “I have to go. I’m at work,” she says to the guy.
He grabs her arm roughly, and I see his fingers biting into her flesh as he says something close to her ear. She nods then turns around, snatching her arm back.
Releasing his grasp, he looks over at me and shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry, big boss man. I was just trying to spend some time with my girl on her break.”
I place my hands on my hips, not liking this guy one bit. I wonder what a nice girl like Ruby sees in this dickwad. “Her break is over.”
Holding the door open, I wait for her to walk inside. She wipes her finger below her eye when she thinks I can’t see her. But, I do, and it makes my stomach sink as a result. Ruby has been working here since I started nearly three years ago. I consider her a good friend, and I don’t like seeing some guy treat her like shit.
“I’m sorry,” she says once I close the door. “I lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”
I nod, feeling conflicted about speaking up about the uneasy feeling I got about that guy. “Ruby, wait.”
She turns and tilts her head to the side in question.
“I know this isn’t my place to say anything since I’m your boss and all. But, as your friend, I don’t like what I saw out there tonight.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t let my private life interfere with work again.”
“No. It’s not that. It’s…” I let out my breath. “Is he treating you right?”
She frowns and her eyes shift sideways. “You’re right. It isn’t your place to say anything. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to work.”
* * *
Dakota
“Table seventeen wants a serving of cheese fries to share, and table twenty is just about ready for their bill,” I tell Sally, the seventeen-year-old girl who’s taking over from me. I stand in front of the touch screen so I can print out my end of shift paperwork and sign everything over to her.
“It’s busy tonight,” she comments, looking out at the full dining room at the Sydney Kayaking Club. “Your dad must be happy.”
“I don’t think he’ll ever be happy,” I joke. My father owns this club, and while he loves mixing his business with his love of sport, this hasn’t been an easy road for our family over the years. We pretty much live and breathe this club and all of its ups and downs. At times it’s been my salvation, and at other times, it’s been my burden.
Sally laughs, knowing the grumpy, but endearing man that is my father well. “I’m sure he’ll crack a small smile when he sees tonight’s numbers.”
Finishing with the print out, I untie my apron and send Sally on her way. Then I look out at the busy room. Sally is right. Dad will be happy about
tonight’s takings. He’s been knee deep in renovations over the past twelve months, and now that the restaurant has reopened, along with the newly refurbished function rooms and bar area, we’ve had a wonderful response. The dining room busy every night.
Sydney Kayaking Club fronts the water along Lane Cove River and consists of a club building and a boat shed that houses the kayaks and training facilities for our kayakers. We’re one of the biggest exclusive kayaking clubs in the state, but even then we have trouble keeping our doors open and our equipment up to date. Dad has re-mortgaged everything we own to give this place a facelift, so he’s really holding his breath, waiting to see how our proceeds go long-term. We need to turn the business around or we lose everything.
I push my way into the office to count out my receipts. “Hey mum,” I say as I drop my things on the table and begin counting. She’s working back of house tonight.
She looks up from her work and holds her hand out, indicating she wants my receipts. “You look exhausted,” she states, concern in her brown eyes.
“It’s busy tonight. My feet are killing me.” I hand everything over. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go through them?”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine. Go home to Riley. Get some rest.” Pressing her lips together in a tired smile, she begins to sift through the pile.
I lean down and press a kiss of gratitude to her cheek. “Thanks, mum.”
“Oh, before you go. Do you have the list for the fundraiser?”
I stop in my tracks, my heart thudding in my chest, because this fundraiser has been my greatest dread since coming to work here full-time. We do them every year but this year is his year. This is the year I might have to finally face my past. Every day, I’ve been watching the RSVP notifications come in, and so far, his name isn’t there. It’s a mixture of sadness and relief. I’m not sure which one yet….
“Almost. I’ll update it tomorrow and give it to you.”
“No problem. I’ll see you later.”
Eight
Brad
“Can I talk to you?” I approach Ruby once the restaurant is closed and most of the staff have left for the night. Quite often, it’s just me and her left behind, doing the last of the paperwork and inventory for the night. Although more often than not, I’m the last one to leave. I tend to stay behind experimenting with new dishes. But tonight, I want to talk, because I can’t get the image of that guy grabbing her out of my mind. After being raised by a woman who escaped an abusive marriage, any sort of violence towards women is an abhorrence I can't abide.
“Is something wrong?” she asks, sliding the cash drawers into the safe in the office. She keeps her back to me as she speaks.
“About earlier,” I start.
She spins around. “Listen, I know what you saw, and I get that you’re concerned because you’ve known me for so long and all that. But everything is fine. I promise.”
I step towards her. “You’re right. I am worried about you. And in the three years I’ve known you, never once have you dropped the ball while at work. Then the first time you do, I go outside and find some guy grabbing you by the arm. Look at your arm, Ruby, the marks are still there.”
She glances down and rubs her hand over the faint bruises appearing on her skin.
“Is he always like that with you?”
Her eyes rise to meet mine. “No. This is just a mistake. I…I pulled back too hard…”
“Ruby. If he’s hurting you…” I start, stepping forwards again, but she holds up her hands.
“Don’t Brad. Please. Remember that you’re my boss. We don’t get to be too personal.” She closes the safe and picks up her things, telling me goodbye as she pushes past me out the door.
For a moment, I close my eyes, her words biting as I remember giving her the colleague speech about a year ago when she made her interest known to me. We’d kissed one night after work. I don’t even know how it happened, or who instigated it, but it happened, and immediately, I regretted it. We’re colleagues. I’m her boss. Any sort of relationship between us would have been inappropriate. I’d thought she was fine with it—fine with me. But after that comment, obviously not…
* * *
“So you really think this guy is hurting her?” Elliot asks as we paddle side by side on our surfboards at Bondi Beach early the next morning. The sun is only just starting to light up the sky while we share the water with a few other dawn surfers.
Over the years we’ve kept in touch. These days, instead of being an overweight teen, he’s the fittest-looking guy I know. He stands an inch taller than me and keeps his light brown hair cropped short against his head. He was a lawyer for a bit, but now works as a personal trainer. He makes good use of his access to the gym, so he's also a hell of a lot broader than me now too. I'm lean like a sprinter or a cyclist, but Elliot is verging on body builder size.
Even though neither of us kayaks anymore, we still train together occasionally for fun. And most Sundays, an early morning surf is exactly what’s needed after a hectic week of work, so we catch up here more often than not.
I dip the nose of my board and dive below a wave. The water rushes past my ears, giving me time to prepare my answer about Ruby for when we both emerge from the other side. “I don’t know for sure, but my gut says yeah. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I consider her a friend, but I definitely made it clear to her that we were only friends who work together in the past. So I’m not sure she’s going to admit anything to me even if there is something going on.”
“This one’s yours,” Elliot says, as a wave begins to peak. I nod and turn my board to catch it, pulling my arms through the water to pick up speed. When I feel myself rise, I jump to my feet and hold out my hands, loving the rush that riding a wave gives me. As the wave peters out, I drop off the back of it and wait until Elliot arrives off the back of the one he caught coming in behind me.
“I don’t know what advice to give here, man. I mean, you can’t force her to confide in you. Especially after you already friend-zoned the girl. Maybe just let her know you’re there for her if she needs you. Just be her friend instead of her protector. You know what happened when you went all protector over a girl before.”
I nod, lifting my hand to rub over the scar in my eyebrow. The last time I tried to protect a girl, I ended up losing my mind, and my eyebrow piercing in the process.
“How could I ever forget,” I mumble.
“Although, speaking of girls that bring out your inner caveman, did you get the invite to the fundraising reunion at the kayaking club?”
“Yep,” I say, wiping my hand over my board as I’m reminded of Dakota. We waited so long for our chance, and it ended so abruptly that I’ve never fully recovered. I never found out what happened, even though I called her house and harassed her father a million times.
“Are you going?”
“Probably not.”
“Come on, Brad. We have to go. If it wasn’t for Morgan and that club, you and I would have hated high school.”
“I’d left high school by then, remember?”
“Oh yeah. Well the club still gave you something—”
“Heartache.”
He rolls his eyes. “I was going to say ‘purpose’. But, if you want to mope over a girl you knew nearly a decade ago, that’s your business. Who’s to say she’s even going to be there?”
“Her family owns the club.”
“So? She could be living in another state or another country. She could be married with kids, and so far away from your fantasy that you’d never recognise her. You’ve got to let it go, man. This isn’t healthy.”
“That isn’t helping.”
“It’s logic. You need to get over her. It’s been years and things change—people change. You should go just to see everyone, regardless of whether she’s going to be there or not.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
“It’s next weekend. You have to RSVP.”
&nb
sp; Spotting a decent break, I call it and paddle to catch the wave. “I’ll think about it,” I call out again. Elliot laughs. He knows me. He knows I always do the right thing. And in this case, the right thing is to show up and thank the guy who helped get me of the streets and into the workforce, all while teaching me discipline through training. I’ll go to that reunion. But I won’t be interacting with Dakota. She had her chance long ago, and she ghosted me as soon as she got what she wanted. No matter how much time passes, I’ll never forgive her that.
* * *
Dakota
While updating the club’s website, an email alert slides in from the top right corner of my screen. Just seeing the sender’s name makes my heart stop for a moment. I force myself to breathe before it starts beating again, wildly against my chest. The date for the fundraiser is only a week away, and since he hadn’t RSVP’d yet, I’d thought he wasn’t coming. I’d thought he wouldn’t want to see me.
I click over to my email client and stare at the name—Bradley Rae, his status, confirmed. I let out my breath and wonder if there’s any way my dad will be OK if I don’t go that night. After all these years, I still don’t think I can tell him what really happened that day when I should have waited, that day when I should have listened. But, as per usual, I did whatever I felt like doing, and as a result, my entire life changed and I never saw him again. I couldn’t...
“The movie is at ten-thirty and we’re gonna be late,” Riley says from the doorway, breaking into my thoughts.
I blink and run my hand over my face, closing down my email and turning around with a smile.
“Great. Is mum coming with us?”
He shakes his head. “She said she has to go to the club.”
Nodding, I spin back around to face the computer as I update the handwritten list of attendees for next weekend’s fundraiser. I swear my hand shakes as I print the letters of Brad’s name. “I’ll be out soon. OK?”
Taste: Beautiful Series, Book 6 Page 3
