Page 50 of The Absence of You
“Come on, you know the plan. We are going to get shit-faced and have some fun tonight. You need to get out of your head for a few hours and forget about Grayson. Fuck him. He’s a prick. I know you were good friends as kids, but he’s clearly not the same boy you knew back then, or he wouldn’t have treated you like that.”
It had been Callie’s idea to come tonight. After Grayson basically ripped my heart out and stomped all over it on Monday, I’d skipped school, in no way capable of being in the same classes with him. I’d forced myself to go back the following day and had mostly managed to avoid him and Charlotte. Whenever I had seen them though, Grayson had flat out ignored me while she’d spent the week taunting me, talking about their relationship in front of me at every opportunity.
Coach Swanson told me that Grayson had emailed her and told her I no longer needed coaching from him. He must have sent the email on Sunday, the day after the ball, less than forty-eight hours after we’d slept together. My last conversation with him, before he told me he was back with Charlotte, had been on the terrace at the ball, just after we’d danced. He didn’t say anything then, so I still have no real idea what changed. I was completely and utterly blindsided in the car park on Monday morning, and he’s spent this week making it clear I’m nothing to him. My heart is fucking broken over it. Callie has been a rock to me this week. She didn’t say I told you so, even though she very much tried to warn me off him when we first met. She just let me cry on her shoulder and joined me in calling him every name under the sun when my tears were replaced with anger. I can’t thank her enough for holding me together this week, and it’s clear she has some experience of having her heart crushed too.
So I agreed to this night out, despite having no idea where we are, or why Callie seems to know all the staff. I know she’s not a big drinker usually, but it definitely seems like she’s done this before, so I trust her to know exactly what I need.
“You’re right, no more boy talk tonight. Just me, you, Jose Cuervo and the dance floor.” I grab one of the tequilas the bartender just lined up on the bar and slam it back, before I can change my mind.
For the next few hours, we dance and drink, and drink and dance. It’s a much-needed physical release from the week’s stress as Callie and I let ourselves go to the music. The bar has been full all night, but thanks to whatever Callie’s connections are here, we’d barely spent a minute without a drink in our hands. When the song we’re dancing to comes to an end, I lean over and whisper yell in Callie’s ear that I need to pee. She points to a door in the corner and motions to me that she’ll go to the bar and get us another drink.
After waiting for what seems like hours, I finally relieve my bladder and head back into the main area. I’ve only taken a few steps when Callie comes towards me, a poorly disguised frown on her face.
“It’s getting boring in here. Come on, let’s go to another bar.” She grabs my hand and tries to pull me towards a door marked staff only. I really like it here, but Callie has taken such good care of me this week, I’m not going to argue with her.
“I just need to grab my jacket. I left it on my chair.” Callie looks over her shoulder.
“I’ll get it. You wait here.” She heads back into the throng. Kygo’s Raging starts to play, and I sway to the music, feeling more than a little tipsy. Getting lost in the song, I’m brought back to reality as I feel a barge to my shoulder. Unsteady on my feet, I right myself and realise it’s Meghan Canning.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” She looks at me with disdain. “You were blending in with the décor.” I roll my eyes at her pathetic insult. I’ve not done a fucking thing to this girl, yet she’s clearly got issues with me. The last thing I want to see are the girls from school, especially Meghan, as that usually means Charlotte won’t be too far away. Speaking of -
“Have you seen Charlotte anywhere?” she asks me, and I shake my head, willing Callie to hurry up with my jacket so we can get out of here. “Oh, there she is!” She starts waving towards one of the booths. At this point, I’m pretty sure Meghan had engineered this whole interaction for the sole purpose of making sure I see she’s here with Charlotte. At that moment, Callie arrives back with my jacket and grabs my hand.
“Come on, let’s go.” She doesn’t seem surprised to see who I’m standing with.
“Why don’t you stay and have a drink with us?” Meghan asks her sweetly.
“Fuck off Meghan, we’re not friends.” I suppress a smirk, extremely glad Callie hasn’t agreed. But as I’m about to follow her, I see the familiar form of Grayson standing next to the booth that Charlotte is sitting in. He’s wearing dark grey jeans and a smart black shirt with his sleeves turned up, showing off his forearms. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and I can see the tension in his shoulders. He turns slightly to look around, and I can see his jaw ticking. He’s sporting a couple of days of stubble and despite the way he’s treated me, I’m still struck by how handsome he looks. He’s clearly not lost any sleep this week while I feel like my whole world has been upended. Desire betrays me as it pools in my tummy and makes my knees weak. But then he catches sight of me, and his gaze turns thunderous. He stares me down, almost as though he’s trying to make me leave with just a hostile look. Well, fuck him. I was here first. I turn to Callie.
“Let’s have another drink here.” She looks at me quizzically. “Not with them, obviously. Just us.”
“You and I both know that’s not a great idea, Dahlia.”
“Please?” I plead. I know I’m only torturing myself seeing him, but the alcohol buzzing through my system and my stubborn pride have decided this is a great time to put on a show of not being bothered by their presence. I can show them that I’m not going to let them get the better of me. Well, that is one of the reasons I want to stay. The other reason, one I’d never admit out loud, is I’m addicted to this man. If my only fix is going to come from watching him across the bar for the rest of the evening, then I will take it any way I can get it, however pathetic that is.
Callie sighs and gives me a sympathetic squeeze, “If we’re doing this then let’s show him you’re over him. Okay?” I nod and hug her back. She knows it is pointless arguing with me once I’ve made my mind up. We link arms and head back to the bar to order another round.
As we approach, I notice Asher Pennington standing a few metres down with a full bottle of whiskey and a couple of tumblers in his hands. Judging by his choice of drink, we obviously aren’t the only people who want to forget reality for a couple of hours this evening. He glances down the bar, shamelessly checking out the various girls, until he reaches us and his focus lingers on Callie. He pauses, his grip on the whiskey bottle tightening. Callie is leaning over the bar, laughing hard at something the bartender is saying to her. After a few seconds Asher looks away, his eyes colliding with mine. I cock my eyebrow at him, questioning what his problem is. Caught out, he storms away from the bar, leaving Callie oblivious to his stares as she grabs our drinks. I’m intrigued to know if the two of them have some sort of history. There’s definitely some kind of animosity on both their parts.
We head up to the mezzanine floor and find an empty table at the edge of the balcony overlooking the rest of the bar. It’s quieter up here, so I take the opportunity to ask her the question that’s been on my mind since we arrived.
“So…do you want to tell me why you are so familiar with all the staff here?” I ask curiously. Callie looks around the bar and smiles tightly.
“This is my dad’s bar. One of his bars,” she corrects herself. That was the last answer I was expecting.
“When you said your dad worked away, I figured you meant he was a salesman or something with lots of travel involved.” She shakes her head.
“No. Nothing like that. He owns several bars and a handful of restaurants across the city. But he often takes extended trips to take care of other investments.”
“Is he here tonight?”
“No, he’s been away for a while. The staff look out for me because, well, he’d kill them if anything happened to me while I was here.” She states in a very matter of fact way before sipping her drink. I look around with renewed interest.
There’s a guy in a suit standing next to the bar, his arms crossed, staring at Callie. Another similarly dressed man on the lower floor is also watching her. Huh, I can’t believe I didn’t notice them before. When I look at the second guy a little more closely, I realise he’s familiar.
“Shit! That guy at the shopping centre, the one I thought was following us, that’s him down there isn’t it? What are they, like bodyguards?” Callie nods and a chill runs up my spine. It’s reassuring to know that guy in the mall didn’t have any nefarious intentions, but it also throws up yet more questions. Who or what is Callie’s father trying to protect her from? It all seems surreal to me, but it’s clearly Callie’s normal. I don’t want to pry, but I hope she knows she can trust me to be there for her, as much as she’s been there for me. She doesn’t offer up any more information, but at least I know we’re safe in here, and if it means we get served at the bar quicker, then happy days.
I scan my eyes over the dance floor from above. From where we’re sitting, I have an unobstructed view of Grayson. He throws his drink back, and I follow the bob of his throat as he swallows the amber liquor down. Why does he have to look so perfect? Even the way he swallows is sexy. He’s not joining in the conversation at his table, and he looks distracted as his gaze wanders around the bar. After a minute, he looks upstairs and his blue eyes connect with mine. He immediately looks away, and places his hand on Charlotte’s shoulder, before leaning down and kissing the top of her head.
