“Like he’s involved with something dodgy?”
“Jay, he’s been doing dodgy shit for years. I meant like having an affair.” She went back to the cocktail. “Should we ask her?”
“No.” I didn’t even need to think about it. “She’d never tell us what was going on there. She keeps it private.”
Lala nodded, staring in the distance at something I doubted was even there. “There’s always been that sheen, hasn’t there?”
“What do you mean?”
“That gloss. She coats everything with this brilliant, glamorous filter so that we only see things exactly how she wants them to be portrayed. She’s a master at it.” She polished off her drink.
I could see how this day would be ending.
“That’s Livi. She can spin anything so it shines in the light that’ll make it look best.” This I’d known for some time. In fact, I could pinpoint exactly when: the assault in my dorm room.
“Maybe we need to see what we can find out about Lawrie, Jay. What do we really know about him?”
It was an odd question to ask about a man who’d been in our lives for the best part of eight years. We should’ve known more about him, but we didn’t. We’d never lived with Lawrie. We stayed with him, in Paris or London or Ibiza, when he happened to be staying with Livi. He had stuff at her houses, and vice versa. But they’d never jointly owned a property. Livi had made a point that when we were home from school, we’d gone to her homes – our homes – or to Dad’s. It had been time with our parents and not their spouses, although it had been a little different with Dad because of Daisy-Mae and Alfie.
“We know he’s an entrepreneur which is vague in itself. He’s got Marcus as a son, his ex-wife lives in the Cayman Islands – I think. That’s probably about it. Maybe we should ask Dad.” I sipped at my drink. So far, the cocktails atCòctelshad been excellent.
“That would cause an argument between him and Livi. He’d straightaway think Lawrie had done something, which he hasn’t. All this could be in our heads, Jay-Jay.” She sat back. “We should ask Livi about why she wants to go with him.”
“I did ask her. She just said that he hasn’t been here much recently. She made it sound like she wanted to spend time with him.” I sighed. “Let’s ask Manny. If anyone’s noticed Livi acted weird over him, it’ll be Manny.”
“We could hire an investigator. See what Lawrie’s been up to while he’s been away. Do you really think he’s never fucked anyone else while he’s been away from Liv?”
“I don’t want to think about Lawrie fucking full stop.” I really, really didn’t.
Lala picked up the cocktail menu languidly, casting half an eye through it. “Want to party tonight, or be sophisticated.”
“Can’t we do both?”
She grinned, half-wickedly. Absolutely. I was feeling like seeing in the dawn.”
I knew I was smiling hard, that sense of tranquillity being replaced by a rush that was simple excitement about a night out.
When I looked up, I saw Tommy, standing a few feet behind Lala, staring at his phone. He glanced up as if realising I was watching him, his eyes connecting with mine.
He smiled, gentle, kind. But for some reason, that wasn’t what I thought about.
I just wondered how much of our conversation he’d heard, and whether, like with all good bartenders, that information stayed private.
Chapter Four
Tommy
“Too much grenadine.” I pushed the cocktail glass back to Rico. A Zombie, when done well, didn’t taste like it was going to strip the lining from your oesophagus. When done well, it tasted like a way to heaven. “Watch your measures.” I passed the failed drink over to Tia, another one of my trainee bartenders. It was her night off, so she was getting to drink anything that Rico fucked up. Luckily, she’d already had a couple of Long Islands, so this fuck up wouldn’t taste too bad.
“Why don’t these have precise measures?” Rico had a really whingy voice that made him sound about the same age as my niece. “It’d be a shit ton easier if they did.”
“Life would be a shit ton easier if it came with an instruction manual.” I took the Bacardi and handed it to him. “You’ve tasted the one I made, you’ve tasted the one you did. What was the difference?”
“Yours wasn’t asàcid.” Rico shook his head.
He was a good kid, and he wanted to do well. I was hard on him, because being soft wouldn’t get him anywhere fast.
“So go slightly heavier on the white rum, cause that’s also the cheapest, and then drizzle the grenadine.”
