Promises Page 2

  “Well, don’t you look all manly with a baby,” Brent said giving me a wink.

  “Fuck off,” I grumbled.

  “Language.”

  “She doesn’t know what I’m saying. Besides, you’ve met her father, every second word out of his mouth is fuck.”

  Brent chuckled, shaking his head. I watched Avery and Aiden together. They looked so happy and here I was fucking hating every moment of it. My chest burnt. Love really fucking sucked.

  Not wanting to intrude on their moment together, I turned my attention to the small bundle in my arms. Afie was awake, her grey eyes fixed on me.

  “Hello little one,” I whispered. “Your mummy and daddy will be back soon.”

  She blinked and yawned before reaching out a hand to me. I shifted her in my lap and let her hold my finger. Her hands were so tiny.

  “You think Liora will let D knock her up any time soon?”

  I looked up at Brent.

  “Are you desperate for a screaming baby in the house to deal with on top of those two?”

  “No. I think she wants kids though.”

  “You’d know.”

  He shrugged. Brent looked out for her. They argued like a married couple at times. I wasn’t sure why Dante thought it was entertaining when they bickered. He certainly didn’t appreciate it when Brent and Jen argued. More often than not she was calling him a dickhead. I was pretty sure Dante had said something to Brent because recently when she started up on him, he just walked away.

  “She hasn’t said anything to me… yet. I bet she’ll ask me if I think it’s okay to broach the subject with him.”

  “I’m not betting with you. You never play fair.”

  He laughed. Brent really was a dick at times so my sister’s assessment wasn’t far off, but he was Dante’s best friend and the reason my brother didn’t completely fuck things up with his new wife. If it wasn’t for Brent’s encouragement, neither of them would’ve admitted their feelings towards each other. Brent took credit for it and I was inclined to believe him given what I knew about my brother’s lack of communication skills.

  Looking back down at Afie, I found her eyes half closed as if she was falling asleep. Her tiny little hand was still wrapped around my finger as if she didn’t want to let go.

  If things were different, you might have been mine.

  Chapter Two

  Ellie

  When I heard they were putting me on this event, I was worried I’d mess it up. It was my first time alone on the bar. I needed this job so I couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong tonight. It seemed to be going okay though. The twin girls who’d spent most of the time at the bar hadn’t complained about their cocktails.

  It wasn’t a big reception. Probably about fifty guests. I recognised the groom and his family. They owned that fashion house their father built. He was in prison now serving a life sentence. Huge scandal. Zachary Benson murdered his wife and abused his kids. Sick if you ask me.

  His kids seemed okay though. The twin girls were giggling on the dancefloor together, clearly drunk. The groom was glued to his new wife’s side. He was pretty fit and his wife, gorgeous. And the last sibling? He was propped up at the end of my bar staring at a dark haired girl standing with who I guessed was her husband. They both had wedding rings and she had a baby in a pushchair next to her.

  “You want another?” I asked when I noticed he’d drained his glass.

  His blue eyes turned on me, his expression a little startled.

  Shit, he has nice eyes.

  They were blue like the ocean. The type of eyes a girl could drown in. I’d noticed his brother and sisters had the exact same shade. I had a thing about eyes. They were the most expressive part of a human. That’s if you could recognise their subtle changes like I could. I’d had to learn so I could read the moods of the people who’d had me before all of this.

  “What would you suggest?” he asked me, tapping his fingers against the glass.

  I’d served him a dark rum and coke earlier when he came over. It was a free bar so he could have whatever he wanted. The groom was footing the bill. They had money so it didn’t surprise me.

  “You look like you could use something strong.”

  I wasn’t sure why I said that. There was something innately sad about this guy. This was a wedding. Weren’t they supposed to be happy occasions?

  “I do?”

  “Yeah.”

  One of my flaws was I didn’t often think before I spoke. After years of being forced to only speak when spoken to, I relished the freedom to say whatever it was on my mind. Not that I really spoke to people that often and certainly not to strange men.

  “Who’s that girl you keep staring at?” I indicated the dark haired girl with the baby.

  His expression darkened for a moment. There was something very familiar about her but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Honestly, there were so many famous rich folks these days, I had a hard time keeping up with who’s who. Not that I really cared.

  “My best friend.”

  The sadness in his voice struck a chord with me. It was clear he wished it was more. So much more. I resisted the strange urge to put a hand on his arm, which was resting on the bar, to give him a comforting squeeze.

  “I think I know what you need.”

  I turned away to the back bar before he could say anything. Selecting the salt and three slices of lime, I set out three shot glasses and poured the tequila. He watched me balance the limes on the glasses and pop the salt down next to them.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Tequila will help you forget for a while.”

  He gave me a slight smile before picking up the saltshaker. I wasn’t sure if he’d actually drink them all, but he did. One by one. He dumped the lime in the last glass and looked at me, grimacing a little.

  “So… Eleanor… Do you always try to cheer up miserable guests at these functions?”

  I frowned. I hadn’t told him my name. Looking down, I remembered the stupid name tag pinned to my black shirt.

  “It’s Ellie and no, this is my first wedding.”

  I hated being called Eleanor. It sounded so prim and proper. My mum used to call me Nellie Noodle. I just preferred plain Ellie. Any reminders of my past weren’t welcome. Especially not now when I was working.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ellie. Suppose you already know who I am.”

  I knew his surname was Benson, but I hadn’t paid much attention to any of their first names.

  I shrugged and he raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s James.”

  “You going to tell me why you keep making sad eyes at your best friend then, James?”

  He gave me a rueful smile.

  “Nope.”

  “Can I guess?”

  I should be wiping down the bar or doing something productive, not making conversation with a patron. No one else was at the bar. They all seemed content on the dancefloor or swigging wine from the numerous bottles on the tables.

  “Be my guest.”

  I leant my elbows on the bar.

  “The man she’s next to, the one with all the tattoos, that’s her husband, right?”

  He’d taken his suit jacket off and his sleeves were rolled up. He was looking down at his wife with an expression of absolute adoration on his face.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you wish it was you.”

  “Am I really that easy to read?”

  My eyes flicked over to him. He was giving me a half smile.

  “No. Just made it my life’s mission to learn the subtleties of body language and human interaction.”

  “Interesting… Tell me, what else have you noticed?”

  I shouldn’t tell him. There were lines I shouldn’t cross but he seemed so sad. Was it wrong for me to want to help distract him for a while?

  “Your brother and his wife…
They have a Dom and Sub relationship going on there.”

  James’ eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up.

  “What?”

  “I’d like to say it was an observation but when they were over by the bar earlier, I overheard them whispering about what they intend to do later. I’ll spare you the details.”

  As a bartender, you heard a lot of things you weren’t supposed to.

  He scrunched up his face for a moment.

  “I need another drink.”

  I cleared away the shot glasses and poured him a rum and coke.

  A few people approached the bar so I walked off to serve them. It was ten minutes before I finished with the sudden influx of people. James was still propped up on the barstool, but this time he was staring into his half empty glass.

  “You know, weddings are supposed to be happy occasions.”

  “I am happy… for Dante.”

  “But not yourself.”

  He shrugged. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to continue talking to him. I didn’t usually make small talk with customers let alone strange men. There was something different about James. Maybe I just understood there were some deep seated wounds that never healed. He and I were the same in that respect. Except I knew he’d been abused because it was splashed all over the news. He knew nothing about me.

  “Why does your best friend look so familiar?”

  I really couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “Who? Avery? Oh… She used to be a Daniels.”

  That name sent a chill down my spine. The urge to be sick burnt in the back of my throat but I swallowed it down.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, she sold the company after the scandal. She had nothing to do with it.”

  He hadn’t noticed the change in my mood. I knew exactly who she was now. Her and her husband had donated a lot of money to a charity set up in the wake of the scandal. They helped girls who’d been sold and sex trafficked.

  Girls like me.

  Shaking myself internally, I shoved those memories away.

  “They’re all in prison now, aren’t they?”

  You know they aren’t, Ellie. You know who might still be out there.

  “That’s what they say.”

  “You don’t believe that?”

  His eyes darkened slightly.

  “All I know is the world is full of secrets and not everyone who does bad shit gets punished for it.”

  His tone made me pause. He sounded bitter and I couldn’t think who he might be referring to with that statement. His father was in prison so it couldn’t be him.

  “You’re right. The world is full of darkness and bad people who get away with it.”

  Saying that was probably a bad idea. Getting chummy with a patron was too. What was it about him? He was easy on the eyes, of course, but his whole family was attractive so that hardly surprised me. It’s not like I fancied him. I didn’t really experience anything but dread at the thought of another person touching me intimately.

  Maybe I just saw a kindred spirit. That had to be it. Surely. Nothing else made sense.

  “Well, everyone and their fucking dog knows my sorry story, but I won’t ask about yours.”

  I would tell you if you did.

  Where the hell did that thought come from? I’d never told anyone. Not even the therapists they’d sent me to when I’d been ‘rescued’. I didn’t talk about my experiences nor the scars I carried.

  I had to stop talking to him or I’d end up revealing my life story. Why did this guy have me wanting to do such things? Could he and I be friends? It’s not like anything more would ever transpire. He was blatantly in love with his best friend and I couldn’t imagine having sex and actually enjoying it. Not after what I’d been through.

  “Maybe one day you’ll ask me and I’ll be inclined to tell you.”

  He really seemed to look at me then. His eyes darted across my face as if taking in my dark hair which I’d tied up in a bun and my sky blue eyes, a lighter shade than his. They roamed lower, dancing across my black shirt as if he could see what lay beneath. His stare made my scars itch and my skin prickle uncomfortably.

  “One day, eh? So you’re not just a bartender trying to cheer up my miserable arse then?”

  I shrugged as I leant back against the bar behind me.

  “Maybe at first. You’re not such a bad conversationalist.”

  He laughed. It had a rich almost baritone note to it. The sound of it vibrated across my skin. I couldn’t help smiling.

  “You don’t think so?”

  He grinned, taking a sip of his drink.

  “My friends would tell you I like to take the piss out of them more than I have deep conversations. Take Avery, when she first started seeing Aiden, I told her they were like beauty and the beast so when I found out his pet name for her is princess, it became prime wind up material.”

  My eyes fell on his friend and her husband. He wasn’t really much of a beast in looks. Rather handsome if you liked the ripped body and tattooed bad boy look. Though I suppose them having a baby together took the hard edge off him. I could see why James might compare his friend to Belle though.

  “Disney princesses always get their happy ever after.”

  “She got hers.”

  He looked down at his glass again. I didn’t know the story behind him and his friend but I could see it was painful for him. That he didn’t want to feel this way about her.

  I decided on my next course of action there and then. It was a stupid thing to do, but someday I had to learn to live again. So why not live a little now?

  I took a napkin from one of the holders and grabbed the pen I’d left by the till. James watched me as I started to write. I spun it around to him when I was done.

  One month from today if we’re both still miserable and haunted by our pasts, I promise to meet you outside this hotel and exchange one story from our lives with each other.

  I’d left two places for us to sign our names. I’d already done mine.

  Eleanor Kirkwood

  I watched his expression. He didn’t look up at me. He simply picked up the pen and signed his name too.

  James Benson

  He pushed the napkin back to me. I shook my head.

  “Keep it. I’ll remember.”

  He took the napkin and slipped it into the inside pocket in his suit jacket. Picking up his glass, he knocked back his drink. Then he looked at me with those soulful ocean blue eyes of his.

  “Maybe we’ll see each other again… Ellie Kirkwood.”

  He slipped off his stool and walked away towards where his sisters were almost falling over themselves.

  And he didn’t look back.

  It would’ve been like one of those stupid romantic comedies if he had.

  I shook my head. I probably wouldn’t see James Benson again, but it didn’t matter. I was taking my life back into my own hands one small step at a time.

  Today was a good day. I made conversation with a man and I didn’t feel like I wanted to throw up or tear my skin from my body. That had to count for something.

  Didn’t it?

  I kind of hope I see him again. That he doesn’t forget about the napkin and the promise we just made to each other.

  Chapter Three

  James

  A knock at the office door startled me. I slipped the napkin back into my pocket and called for them to come in. That napkin. I’d read it over so many times since Dante’s wedding.

  Eleanor Kirkwood.

  Ellie.

  She had very swirly handwriting and she put a heart above her i’s.

  It wasn’t as though I was interested in starting something new with anyone. There was just something about Ellie Kirkwood. She seemed to recognise things in me I preferred to keep hidden. Things I hated about myself. And if I was honest, I wondered what her story was too.

  Cassie walked in, her curly light brown hai
r tied up in a bun, caramel skin stark against her white shirt which clung to her breasts. I knew exactly what lay beneath that tight pencil skirt and killer heels with the signature red bottoms.

  “You wanted me?” she said as she approached my desk.

  I did? Oh, wait…

  “Um, yeah, I need to run over some of last year’s financials.”

  She looked a little disappointed. Was she expecting it to be of a personal nature? Not for the first time I felt like an absolute cunt. She deserved more than this. It was just easy with her. Easy to forget because she looked nothing like her. She felt nothing like her.

  I was trying not to fall back into bad habits. Ever since Dante’s wedding, I’d been determined to keep Cassie at arm’s length. Return to being just colleagues and not sleep with her.

  “Oh, okay. Right.”

  She didn’t come around the desk even though that’s what she’d usually do when we were working on something together.

  “Look, James, are we okay?”

  I frowned.

  “Yeah, course, why wouldn’t we be?”

  She fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt.

  “It’s just… You know what, it doesn’t matter. What financials do you need to run?”

  She walked around the desk, pulling a chair with her. I should’ve asked her to elaborate, but I really didn’t want to have that conversation.

  The next hour was awkward and uncomfortable, like both of us were treading on eggshells. It wasn’t meant to be this way. Cassie was a girl you dated, fell in love with and got married to. And here all I’d done is managed to screw things up and string her along for six months. Six fucking months. Why did she put up with me?

  “A couple of us are going out for drinks after work,” she said as she stood up. “You should come.”

  “I can’t.”

  If it had been any other night, I might have taken her up on that offer. Not tonight though. I had something important to do tonight. And if Cassie had been my girlfriend, she’d have known that. Known why. But she wasn’t and I didn’t volunteer personal information much.