“Let’s put anything my mother has said to the side, shall we? This is a decision for us, and I believe we might be best to leave it as friends.” I watch as she marshals her face into her usual mask, and true to form, she doesn’t cause a scene.
“I see. Well. I’ll give you some time to think this over.” Her cool tone matches the mask, although I don’t miss the stubborn line of her lips. “But you should be aware I won’t wait forever, Nicholas. And you will need me if you want a safe seat when you decide to run for parliament.”
She’s right. Her father was going to make sure I got parachuted into an unlosable seat. I feel a twinge of guilt over my promise to my father. But stronger than the guilt is an unfurling feeling of relief.
Before I have time to register what she’s doing, she’s out of her chair, scooping up her purse, turning sharply on her heel and marching out of the restaurant, with nothing more than a look that tells me in no uncertain terms I have not heard the last of this.
I have no idea what prompted me to break up with Eleanor tonight. I came here with the intention of trying to kindle something from the cold ashes of our relationship. Yet all of a sudden it was all I could do not to shout in frustration. It didn’t escape my notice my left leg jiggled for most of the meal.
Feeling unsettled, I debate whether to go to the bar on my own, but eventually head home, annoyed with myself, and spend a few hours working before falling into bed.
I wake with a start to a darkened room, the glow from my bedside clock telling me it’s nearly three am. The throb from my cock tells me I’ve had another one of those dreams. Full of wild hair, bright eyes and long fingers.
These dreams about Lulu are getting more intense. I’m not blind. I can’t deny she’s gorgeous. But she’s also an annoying pain in the arse and I can’t stand her. I’ve never met a woman who disturbs and distracts me the way Lulu MacLeod does. So why do I wake up in the middle of the night with a hard-on that won’t go away unless I take matters into my own hands, so to speak? I certainly never had dreams like this about Eleanor. What the hell is wrong with me?
As for Eleanor, it’s evident she’s been drinking my mother’s Kool Aid—or sherry—as the case may be. I’m relieved I finally did what needed to be done and broke it off with her. She might make the perfect political wife, but I’m beginning to understand I need more than a ‘suitable’ partner. However, right now, my whole life feels like it’s taking a sharp left turn and these unsettled feelings are not something I’m used to.
It hasn’t escaped my notice that my feelings of dissatisfaction with my life have increased over recent weeks. Since Lulu MacLeod landed unceremoniously in the middle of my previously unruffled existence. Nor that my unwelcome attraction to her has not waned on further acquaintance. Quite the contrary.
After a morning spent drafting responses for a client, I head to the sailing club for the first of the weekend races. Will and Josh are already there, setting up the rigging on Will’s boat.
“Josh. Great to see you. It’s been a while.” We do one of those half-handshake-half-back-slapping hugs so popular with men. Although we all went to school together, Josh and Will were in a different crowd from me. Or rather, you could say, they were in a crowd. I was the loner who spent every waking moment studying. I was the prefect who more than once turned a blind eye to the things they got up to so I didn’t upset Harry, and, therefore, my father. They looked at me as a boring nerd, and I looked at them with envy. Envy that no matter what trouble Will got into, Harry still loved him. Even envy that no matter what Josh did—good or bad—his father didn’t seem to care. There was such freedom in that. In my family, you lived by the rules or else. I never cared to find out what ‘else’ might be.
“Who’s crewing for you today?” Will asks, slicking sunblock across his face.
“Ben. Have you seen him around?” Ben is one of Will’s two younger brothers. They are very much alike, although Ben is, according to my sister at least, the far better looking of the two. Based on his track record with women, I suspect this is true, but they are both tall and gangly with pale red hair, dark blue eyes and party-boy temperaments. As the youngest son, Ben takes his partying, and not much else, very seriously.
Will laughs. “Last seen dunking his head in the harbour. A little hung over, I think. Looks like you won’t be beating us today.”
“Don’t bet on that. Actually—you should bet. Loser buys dinner?”
“I’m here. I’m here.” Ben staggers up, his hair darkened by a dunking, eyes puffy and bloodshot. “I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry, Nick. I’ll be set as soon as I grab a bacon and egg roll …” He disappears, leaving me to set up the rigging alone. I have no idea why I keep asking Ben to be my crew. Yes, he’s an excellent sailor; however, more often than not, he’s the worse for wear. But it’s all about ballast, for which he’s perfect, regardless of his hangovers.
“Right, let’s get these boats in the water. Go hard or go home, Nick.” Will offers a mock salute as he returns to rigging his boat.
I feel much better after the race. It’s amazing what a little salt water, wind and sunshine can do for my frame of mind. Not to mention a win. We didn’t win by much, but a win is a win.
After cleaning the boats and packing up, we find a table on the verandah and order a round of beers.
“Okay—dinner’s on me. Happy to eat here at the club?” Will picks up the menu, although we all know it by heart.
“Not for me, lads. I have a date.” Ben gulps the remains of his post-race beer and stands.
“A date? Don’t you mean a hook-up with one of your fuck buddies?” Will laughs.
“Tomahto, Tomayto, old man,” Ben quips, leaving the three of us with a wave.
“Speaking of women …” Will starts. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to, Josh. She’s an interior designer and artist. Fun, beautiful, talented. Exactly your type.”
For some reason my hackles rise. “Cut it out, Will. It’s thoroughly inappropriate to be pimping out a work colleague. Do you even know if she’s single? Or straight?” I know full well she’s straight. I didn’t imagine those vibes in the executive washroom.
He looks affronted. “I’m not pimping her out. I’m simply offering to introduce them. Josh hasn’t been seeing anyone since he got back, and maybe Lulu might break his dry spell. And yes, I checked. She’s single.”
Judging from the discomfort on Josh’s face, and the bruise which looks remarkably like a love bite showing slightly above the neck of his t-shirt, I suspect Will might not have all the available information on Josh’s love life.
“Believe me, mate, a date is the last thing I need,” Josh groans. “Good race today …” It’s clear he’s desperate to change the subject.
Ever oblivious to undercurrents, Will continues, “And speaking of getting laid, I think Greer might have had a gentleman caller.” Josh starts to look a little green at the mention of Will’s sister, and shifts in his chair. I try and suppress the grin I feel pushing at my lips.
