Page 8 of Saving Ren
We do the usual scan of the place, nod and smile at the faces we know. When our drinks arrive, we knock back the shots before I pick up my vodka, lime, soda, and turn and face the dance floor.
Knowing I have a lot to organise in the morning, I make a mental note to only have one more drink after this. I’m enjoying the buzz, the alcohol I’ve consumed has me feeling relaxed enough to want to dance, but with my emotions so close to the surface, I’m aware that can switch in a heartbeat, resulting in me having a major meltdown on Main Street. The instant the D chord is played by the band’s opening of ‘Should I Stay or Should I Go’ by The Clash, I realise just how easily triggered I am. The song title’s irony isn’t lost on me as I knock back my vodka right along with my tears.
Fuck you, Jason East, you are not going to ruin this night the way you’ve ruined my life.Taking off my jacket, I grab an empty beer bottle from the table, and holding it in front of me like a mic, I begin to sing. Jemma finds her own bottle and joins me. Some random bloke from the dance floor hooks his arms over our shoulders, and we take it in turns to share our bottle/mics with him.
Random Bloke goes back to his mates when the music changes, and Jem and I climb onto a chair and serenade the crowd with our word-perfect rendition of American Pie—all six verses. It’s not until I jump up on a table at the opening chords of ‘Paradise by the Dashboard Light’, that a barman finally comes over and confiscates our mics, threatening to throw me out if I climb on anything else, that our floor show has to end.
The barman holds out his hand, which I take, bowing, waving, and blowing kisses to my adoring audience, some of whom boo at the poor boy.
With a grin on my face and feeling so very much better than I did at the start of the night, I grab a drink from the table and take a chug.
“Hey, that’s mine,” Lou complains as she takes it from me. “Jo’s at the bar now getting a round in.”
I look towards the bar for Jo, about to head over and ask her to get me a bottle of water along with my drink, when I see that she’s pressed forehead to forehead in deep conversation with someone.
“We could be waiting a while, Jo’s on the prowl, and it looks like she’s found tonight’s victim,” I announce.
“Uh oh. Jo's on the pull, lock up your sons,” Jemma says from beside me.
“Naaa, she’s not on the pull,” Lou chimes in. “He’s far too old for our Jo; he must be at least. . . thirty-five.”
The three of us cackle like a coven of witches, apparently a little too loudly, I realise, when Jo and her friend both look up. I’m instantly struck silent at the most magnificent blue eyes I’ve ever witnessed.
Chapter 4
Gabe
“What doyou mean they don’t have the bricks in stock?” I snap at Michelle, our receptionist and office all-rounder down the phone.
“Exactly what I said. Ausbrick is waiting on a delivery. When they arrive, they’ll call me back, but it probably won’t be until Tuesday.”
“Who did you talk to? Get hold of them, and I’ll talk to them.” I slam my phone down on my desk and lean back in my chair.
“Bro, chill out, stop shouting at the staff. What the fuck is wrong with you this morning?” my brother, Zac, asks.
Staring across to where he’s sat behind his own desk, I shrug. If I tell him, he’ll probably take the piss and tell me to go and spend the weekend getting laid.
“Did someone piss on your cornflakes this morning? You’ve been an arsehole all day. You need to go out there and apologise to Michelle before she leaves.”
Raking my hand through my hair, I let out a frustrated sigh.
“Ava cancelled. Her mate, Sophie, who was coming with her this weekend is sick. She’s going away with her Mum and Dean next week, so now I won’t get to see her until we all go away. ”
“That’s only two weeks away, then you’ll get her for an entire week.” Giving another shrug, along with a headshake, I meet his gaze head-on and admit, “Yeah, I know, but I miss my kid. I want to see more of her not less, plus I’ve cleared my schedule and now have no fucking clue what to do with myself.”
“Dude, you’re thirty-five, single, with fanny on tap. I’m sure you can come up with something.”
“Believe it or not, sometimes fanny on tap gets boring.”
“That’d be an ‘or not’ from me. Nor do I believe for a second that fanny on tap ever gets boring.”
“Can you dickheads be good children and stop talking about fanny on tap?” Daniella, our sister calls from her office.
“Sorry,” we both call back.
“Well, if you’re up for it, me and Coop are going for a few beers down Main Street tonight, you’re welcome to come with. You’d actually be doing me a massive favour. You know Coop, he only has one topic of conversation.”
“Work,” Dani, Zac and I all say in unison.
