8

“George tells me that the café isn’t doing well.”

Christian felt his stomach sink at the words as he met his father’s eyes over the dinner table.

Sunday night dinner with the family. Since he’d moved back into the city, it had happened every second week and he didn’t know why he was putting himself through it when all it turned into was his father telling him how he was fucking up his life that particular week.

He took a bite of his pasta and chewed it slowly before he responded. “Business is slowly picking up,” he said. Granted very slowly but he wasn’t going to tell his father that.

“It’s incredible to me that with all the resources you have available to you, you can still manage to fail at this,” his father said leaning back into his chair.

“Now Graham…,” his mother began.

“No mom it’s okay,” he said stopping her before she could say anymore. “It isn’t a Laurent family meal until dad gets his digs in.” He tossed his napkin on the table and pushed back his chair.

“This is the problem with the boy, Patricia. He’s been coddled by the women in this family for so long that he can barely stand to be critiqued.” His eyes drilled into Christian’s. “You better get yourself together, Christian. You only have a couple of months left to prove yourself.”

Christian clenched and unclenched his hands before he got up from the table. “Grandma,” he said moving over to her, “I’ll come visit you again soon.” He met her worried eyes and kissed her on the cheek.

After doing the same to his mother, he forced himself to acknowledge his father without an abrupt nod and walked towards the front door.

“Christian.”

He’d made it to the foyer and was almost done putting on his wool coat when his grandmother caught up with him.

“Try not to take what he says to heart dear,” she said, coming up to him and brushing his fingers away so she could help him do up his buttons.

He caught her hand and held it, stopping her from the activity. “It’s no wonder he thinks I’m useless, considering my grandma is still helping me get dressed,” he said teasingly, trying not to let her see his frustration.

She patted his hand and smiled up at him. “Your grandfather was not an easy man, Christian. He never knew how to talk your father either. Try to understand—,”

He kissed her on the forehead to stop her. He knew she was trying to help but he didn’t want to hear the excuses. “Go back,” he said softly before letting her hand go. “I’ll see you soon.” Then he gave her one last smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, opened the front door and walked out of the house.

…

“Where’s Carson? Where is that guy?” Christian said abruptly as he looked around for his friend.

He was feeling pretty good now. Lounging in the VIP room at the Ivory Nightclub with three of his closest female friends – Je … ssica, Rose? And some other chick— and he was having a grand ol' time.

Ruthie -? leaned in to him, her mouth pressed against his ear, “Who knows, handsome? How ‘bout we go and find him.” She reached for his hand and tried to pull him up but he tossed it away from him.

“No can do, Ricky,” he said picking up his drink. “You see, this bottle doesn’t want me to leave and I can’t disappoint it. You understand.”

“Rachel,” she said with a pout.

He raised a questioning brow as he gulped down some of his beer.

“My name is Rachel,” she said, frustration starting to sneak into her voice.

“Isn’t that what I said?” He put the bottle down and turned to face her fully. “Can I be honest?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "Sometimes when I'm around a woman as beautiful as you, my tongue trips up,” he said, voice soft, eyes intense. “There’s something about the very sight of you that..." he paused as if trying to come up with the words. "Would it be too much to say that it makes my heart flip?” His gaze fell to her mouth. “I must be a fool,” he said, his thumb rubbing her bottom lip gently. “Why I haven’t I kissed you yet?”

She leaned in towards him as if in a trance, all anger gone now, but just as their lips were about to touch, he pulled away. “Hold that thought,” he said with a devilishly boyish grin, grabbed his bottle and stood up trying to ignore the way the world was swaying before him.

Moving away from the woman, he walked up to the balcony and leaned against the railing looking at the crowd below on the dance floor. So maybe he wasn’t having that much fun, he thought taking another swig of his drink. It didn’t matter whether it was a different club or different women; the whole scene was getting old and predictable. Carson was nowhere in sight and the only other person he could think of to relieve his boredom was... he straightened, why the hell not?  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a phone call.

…

Taylor squinted as she twisted around the grinding bodies on the dance floor and peered around the room. With a heavy sigh, she wondered why she had to spend her Sunday night this way.

It was typical that Christian had called her right when she was drifting off to sleep and while she had been tempted to ignore his request, something in the tone of his voice had forced her out of bed and into her down jacket.

She hadn’t bothered to change out of her jogging pants or get ready in any way – instead she’d crammed a knit cap on her head, shoved her feet into thick-soled boots and headed to the trendy nightclub foolishly expecting to get in.

She almost hadn’t. Skipping the line, she’d walked right up to the doors and flashed her ID but the bouncer had taken one look at her and told her in the most gratingly condescending voice, “Not in this lifetime, bud.”

However, remembering what Christian had told her, she stood her ground and with a loud assertion stated that she was on the list. He didn’t look like he believed her but after she’d goaded him into looking at the clipboard; he’d been forced to give in. She’d chuckled to herself after he’d reluctantly waived her into the club but her smile was gone now.

Where was he? The club was so packed that she didn’t know how she was going to find him. Then something, some sort of sixth sense, made her look up and there he was, appearing as if she’d conjured him up with her thoughts. His back was to her but she could tell that it was him. The curve of the back, the cut of the hair, even the way that he stood made it clear that she was looking at Christian.

She walked up to the stairwell only to be stopped by another bouncer. Oh you have got to be kidding me, she thought with some annoyance and was so annoyed that she considered turning around and leaving. It just wasn’t worth it.

Still contemplating whether she should stay or go she felt a heavy arm drape over her shoulders. She looked up, eyes in full glare mode, when she realized that it was Carson.

“Carson!”

“Taylor. What are you doing here?” he asked with a grin.

“I’m wondering the same thing myself actually,” she said dryly.

“This kid’s with me,” Carson said to the bouncer as he pulled her up the stairs to the VIP lounge.

“Actually,” she continued, “Christian called me asking to meet him here.”

Carson raised both brows as he pushed open the door. “And you just came running?”

“Well...uh,” she shrugged. “He didn’t sound too good so I thought maybe something was wrong...”

Carson looked at her for a second before nodding. “He hasn’t told me anything but I’m thinking something happened. He hasn’t stopped drinking since we got here.”

She looked over at Christian who was still leaning against the balcony but what she hadn’t seen before was the woman draped over his chest. The girl had her arms wrapped around his waist as she kissed him on the neck. Taylor felt her jaw tense as she watched the girl’s lips make its way from his neck to his mouth and then back to his neck again.

Christian didn’t appear that into it, his arms hung loosely beside him, one hand gripping a beer bottle instead of a curve, but that didn’t stop Taylor from being annoyed by the scene. How dare Christian call her, force her out of her nice comfortable bed so that she could stand around and witness this?

She contemplated leaving again but Carson kept her locked to him as he walked towards the two at the railing.

“Christian, I have something for you,” Carson said cheerfully as they came up to the pair.

Christian looked at them and when he saw her, a grin came over his face. “Taylor!” He pushed the girl away from him and walked over to her. Copying Carson, he put his arm around her, forcing Carson to let go, and pulled her over to one of the oversized couches in the room.

The girl he had left standing looked miffed but once she saw Carson, she put a smile on her face and sidled up to him. For a brief moment Taylor felt bad for him but knowing Carson could take care of himself, she turned her full attention back to Christian.

“You came,” Christian said grinning.

“Uh, yeah, I did.” Taylor didn’t know what to make of this cheerfully goofy version of Christian.

 “You know what you need? A drink,” he said with a grin. “Lara?” He called to the hostess manning the VIP room. “Get my friend here something to warm his belly and put hair on his chest.”

“No, no don’t...” Taylor started to protest but the woman was already gone. She sighed and turned back to Christian. “I’m not staying. I have school tomorrow and I don’t have time for this.”

He leaned forward and looked directly in her eyes. “Then why did you come, Mooreland?” he asked seriously.

Caught off guard by the intensity in his deep eyes, she eased back nervously. Telling herself not to lose focus, she looked away and lifted her shoulder in a casual shrug. “I thought something was wrong. I didn’t realize you were just here getting wasted. Look Christian,” she said frowning, her eyes on the patrons in the VIP room, “not everyone is like you. We can’t all treat life as this great big game. Some of us have responsibilities. I have responsibilities and they don’t include sitting around getting drunk with you.”

She shifted her gaze back to him to see how he was reacting to her speech and incredulously found him—eyes closed, body slumped, head resting on the back of the couch—out like a light.

She rolled her eyes, stood up, and stomped over to Carson, “I’m leaving,” she said, through gritted teeth and was about to leave when Carson blocked her path.

He looked over at Christian sleeping on the couch and stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry you had to come out of your way like this but since you’re here, can I ask you to do one little favour for me?”

“What is it?” she asked warily.

“Christian drove here and since I’m in no state to drive and as you can see,” he sent an ironic glance Christian’s way, “he’s in no state to drive, could you take his car and send him home for me?”

She shook her head but Carson interjected before he could refuse, “Do this one thing for me and Christian and I will owe you one. Anything you want.”

Narrowed eyes, she scoffed, “Anything?”

“Anything you want,” he repeated. “Come on, Taye, just this one time.”

“Fine,” Taylor huffed. “But you both will really owe me one. What’s the address?”

 ...

It took a curious looking but helpful doorman, a lot of pulling, and several moments of Taylor wanting to pull what was left of her hair out, to get, a heavier than he looked, Christian into his top floor apartment and onto his living room couch.

Breathing hard, hands on her hips, her gaze came up to look around the apartment; it was spacious, decorated simply and incredibly neat. The only thing that wasn’t pristine was an ancient looking bookshelf crammed with all kinds of books and pieces of art.

She looked back down at him lying on the couch and watched him sleep. He looked somewhat gentle, she had to admit, even a little vulnerable. Taking a deep breath, she went back to business. She got up, dragged the boots off his feet and finding a throw across a chair, tossed it over his body.

Her good deed done she prepared to go home when a thought stopped her. Christian was completely dead to the world ... defenceless. Totally at her mercy. Didn’t he deserve a little payback for dragging her out and messing up her night?

A grin on her face, she looked around and found exactly what she was looking for. Grabbing it, she walked back to the couch and dropped on her knees. Her smile growing by the second, she made quick work of his face. When she was done, she leaned back on the back of her legs and looked at her handiwork.

With a sigh, she noticed that her work didn’t really deter from his good looks. God, he was really too good looking for words. Brushing a lock of hair back from his forehead, she stuck out a tongue childishly and got up to leave.

Suddenly his hand shot up and grasped her wrist. Letting out a loud shriek, Taylor looked down and noticed that his eyes were still closed but he was mumbling something. She leaned in closer and the words eased out of his mouth like a whisper, “Don’t go.”

Taylor blinked but reached for his hand to remove it from her wrist. It only tightened. “Christian, stop it.”

In response, Christian tugged her closer and she fell over his chest. Exasperated she looked at him sideways, noticing with disbelief that his eyes were still closed. “Christian...”

“... Don’t go... Taye...”  The words made her stomach drop with guilt and something else that she wasn’t sure she wanted to define. He needed her, somehow he needed her to be there, and part of her really wanted to be there for him.

She freed herself from his grasp, eased up so that she was sitting at the edge of the sofa and looked down at him. She wondered why he’d gotten so drunk tonight. She knew that he wasn’t completely getting along with his dad these days, was he having family problems? Better yet, why had he called her in the first place?

She shook her head when she realized that none of it was really any of her business and while they were friendlier than before, his private life was just that. His. She reached for a music magazine on the coffee table and eased herself down on the floor, her back resting against the sofa.  She’d stay a few more minutes, just to make sure he was okay and then get out of there. She had class in the morning and getting home was already going to be tough. She flipped open the magazine and began to read.