Page 108 of Fake for 7 days

Chapter 29 ~ Carter ~

"Twowhiskies."DonandI entered a pub near the clubhouse. My best friend had dragged me here and was already placing the order as soon as the door had closed behind us.

"What's gotten into you?" I looked at him in surprise. "Usually, you're strictly against me drinking even a drop of alcohol when we still have to drive home. And now you're ordering me a whisky?"

"I think you need one." Don nodded at me. "You've been really unbearable these past few weeks. You're in the worst mood I've ever seen you in. One whisky won't get you totally drunk. And if it does, I'll drive." Don pointed to one of the booths where you could settle in with your beer or whisky or whatever. The whole pub had a dark atmosphere. Dark wood paneling, dark floor, dark ceiling, dark bar stools, and dark red leather upholstery. And of course, a dark bar. I almost felt transported to Ireland. Although this pub was only 200 meters from the clubhouse, I had never visited it until now.

"We should at least toast to your victory once," said Don. He went to the bar and got the two whiskies. As he sat down, the pub door opened again.

Cameron.

My brother entered. He headed straight for the bar and didn't notice me.

"Whisky. Two doubles," he ordered.

Don wanted to say something, but I raised my hand to signal him to be quiet. I didn't want my brother to notice us yet. Cameron hoisted himself onto one of the bar stools and turned his back to us. When the bartender placed two double whiskies in front of him on the dark counter, he downed both within a minute. He swung around vigorously and nearly slipped off the bar stool in the process. He barely managed to keep his balance. Now he was looking in the direction of the booth where Don and I were sitting.

"Www...Who do I see there?" Cameron slurred and staggered over to us. Had he been drinking before coming to the pub? Or even before the race? He had knocked back those two double whiskies pretty quickly, but you couldn't get that drunk in such a short time. Or could you?

"Hello Cameron," I replied coolly. I would have loved to land my fist in my brother's face again, but I controlled myself.

"Drinking to your victory, are you?" Cameron spoke so indistinctly that I could barely understand him.

"Yes, we wanted to celebrate a little," Don replied in my place.

I remained silent.

The victory.

The championship.

Cameron in second place behind me.

Just a few weeks ago, this goal had meant so much to me that I had given Tony hell to get the spare part for my quad in time. But now... Now it had only been a few hours since I had won the race against my brother, and already the memory had faded. The wild feeling of triumph I had expected hadn't come, neither right after the race nor now.

Something was missing.

"I thought I might be able to pick up some women here." Cameron grinned at me. The way only a drunk person could grin.

"May I remind you that you got married just over a month ago?" I had wanted to stay silent, but the sentence came out before I could stop it. Had the alcohol caused Cameron to forget about his wife and want to have fun elsewhere? I grimaced in disgust.

"So what? Marriage is no reason to give up on other women. What do you say, are you in? We'll find three pretty local beauties and then..." Cameron grinned again and made an unmistakable gesture. I doubted he could put his plan into action today. If he had one more whisky, he'd be more likely to end up passed out under the table, subjecting himself to the laughter of all the women present.

At the moment, we were the only guests in the pub anyway.

"Count me out, thanks," Don declined.

"And me too," I added. "Honestly, Cameron, your wife doesn't deserve this."

"I only took that old bag to make sure I get our grandma's inheritance. Like you said." Cameron was so drunk that confessions were just tumbling out of him. I listened with interest. "I don't care about her at all. Have you looked at her?" Cameron giggled. "In bed, all you can do is... close your eyes and think of someone else."

I grimaced in disgust. Sure, in the past, I hadn't always behaved like the model son-in-law. But I had never cheated on a woman. Even with the jealous Abigail, I had kicked her out first before I had fun elsewhere - even though Abigail had always accused me of doing exactly the opposite.

And anyway, if you marry someone... shouldn't it be someone you don't have to close your eyes and think of someone else with?

An image appeared before my eyes.

Why was I thinking of Isabella right now?

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