Page 28 of All Mine
Alex: How’s Kiera?
Etienne: Long gone.
He shook his head at the complete and utter waste of the last four years. If only he’d picked up the phone when Alex called. He could have paid the money there and then. The papers weren’t yet signed on The Bistro. He could have given him the money and put him into some kind of gambling rehab. Alex wouldn’t have had to run and live on his own with no friends or family. They could have been together.
But it wasn’t as simple as that. After living through Alex’s addiction over the years, he’d learned the hard way that addiction trumps family– every time. He’d lent Alex money in the early days for him to pay off someone he’d lost a bet to, only to find out Alex used the money to try double or quits. The debt always doubled. Another time, he’d given him his entire month’s wages, to try to help Alex out without their parents knowing, only for Alex to take it to the local casino and put it on black.
So, when Alex rang that night all those years ago, and Etienne saw his name flashing on the screen, he ignored it because he’d finally got his latest crush, Kiera, to go out with him after a few weeks of thinking she’d be the love of his life. As it was, they only actually dated for a month. But that night, as they kissed, he missed frantic message after frantic message from his brother, asking for help, begging for money, and finally explaining he had to disappear. And Etienne had blamed himself ever since.
So this time, he’d take the risk. He’d give him the money. He had to.
Alex: I’ll contact the Dougalls. And I’ll arrange how to get them the money.
Etienne could imagine how terrifying typing those words must be.
The Dougall family name was feared across south London where they used to live. They were notoriously violent, and people would cross the road rather than risk getting in the Dougalls’ way. He’d first heard of them when his parents’ car got stolen and the police confirmed a car theft operation run by the Dougall family. Later, when he was at university, the Dougalls seemed to run a loan shark operation preying on skint students needing a quick cash flow. They didn’t know what they were getting themselves into and ended up owing more than they ever borrowed. It seemed that the Dougalls had fingers in lots of illegal pies, because it was also them who organised the illicit poker nights across the city, acting as a bank until someone like Alex owed them too much and they wanted it back − with interest.
Keep in touch.Etienne didn’t want the conversation to end but knew he had to leave Alex to do this part alone.
Love you, bro, Alex said and Etienne’s eyes squeezed shut. Visions of Alex sprung into his mind. The two of them with their arms around each other’s shoulders, spinning in circles in the back garden. Fiercely objecting to being dressed the same. Wrestling in the pool on holiday. Kicking each other’s legs under the table during tea. Standing side by side at their parents’ funeral as the coffins were lowered in the joint plot. A million memories. Always together. The Twins.
Love you too, he typed, never meaning anything more in his life.
Etienne’s chest was hurting as he let his phone fall to his side.
This was love. This was what he’d risked by trying to have a relationship with a woman. And that’s why one-night stands were all that he’d allowed himself ever since.
Chapter Seventeen
Isabella
Isabella viewed herself in the full-length mirror and pulled the belt on her wrap dress tight. It cinched her in at the waist, before the skirt skimmed her hips and landed above her knee. Strappy heeled sandals gave her an extra few inches of height and made her legs long and lean. She looked good. She shook her hair out in the mirror, watching her curls tumble around her shoulders. No messy bun today. And no wet T-shirts. Although a fair bit of cleavage, she thought with a mischievous grin, pulling her dress down just that inch lower at the front.
She’d been doing competition visits all week. Starting with the local cafés for brunch and then a few of the other restaurants for dinner. Checking out their menus, their service standards, their staff. She’d eaten everything from eggs and avocado on sourdough to Murgh Makhani. She’d sipped cocktails and smoothies and caffè lattes. But she’d never made so much effort with what she wore until tonight, when she was booked into The Bistro. Funny that.
She’d not only tasted the competition, she’d learned about them too. She’d listened to what other customers were saying and heard all sorts of insights. Not just about the food either. Especially at one café where she’d been sitting next to a table of young women, similar in age to her. One of them had obviously moved away from the town and was back visiting her friends. They’d been exchanging stories and catching up on life, and Isabella inconspicuously listened in when she heard the name of her neighbour, Etienne.
‘Any new encounters with the gorgeous Etienne?’
‘Not me. I got Etienne’d last year,’ one of them said with a giggle.
‘I was the year before that,’ another said, rolling her eyes. ‘Been thinking about it ever since.’
‘Saw him out on his run last week. How does he look sexy at seven in the morning?’
‘He’d look sexy any time of day.’ They all laughed and conversation moved on. Etienne certainly seemed to be in demand.
Isabella spritzed some perfume, firstly on her throat and then on her wrist where Etienne’s mouth had been, and felt the tug of it again, deep in her groin. God, that man was sexy. She checked her watch. Time to go. She tied her coat at the waist, cinching her figure, and headed over the square.
He was leaning over his bookings diary when she pulled open the door to step inside, and she took the opportunity to survey the restaurant. The ambience was good. Tables all pretty much full. Lighting soft enough to make everyone more attractive. Music was low enough to talk over. She nodded to herself in approval. He ran a good place.
Etienne lifted his head to see who’d come in, a professionally welcoming smile on his face which turned into a wider smile when he saw it was her. She felt her stomach flip. Oh, for God’s sake. Just because he’s handsome.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Table booked for eight p.m.’
He ran his finger down the bookings and then across the line.
‘Ms Tucci, I presume? How nice to see you. Table for one?’
