Home > Saving Ren(9)

Saving Ren(9)
Author: Lesley Jones

She picks up the tray with a smile. “I can do that for you, boo,” she says with a wink.

While my brothers watch Jo’s retreating arse weave its way across to the table her mates are standing around, my eyes lock with the redhead’s, and something shifts inside me.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

 

Lauren

 

“Lauren,” Jemma elbows me.

“What?” I snap, annoyed at her distraction. My gaze still locked on the man staring at me from across the dance floor.

“Your mouth, Lauren. Close. Your. Mouth.”

“What?” I repeat.

“Your mouth, woman. Every time you answer me, you leave it hanging wide. . . Oh. Well damn. Who is that?”

I clamp my mouth shut. Blue eyes laughs, shakes his head, and finally looks away still smiling.

Even though he’s no longer looking, I find myself smiling right back.

“Surely she didn’t knock him back. That man is gorgeous,” Lou questions as Jo moves towards us with a tray loaded with drinks.

“Do you know him?” Jemma asks.

“No, I know his face though. I’ve seen him around; I think they’re his brothers he’s with,” Lou replies.

I remain silent as Jo puts the tray down on the table.

“Please tell me you didn’t say no to all that is that?” Jemma waves her arm up and down in the general direction Jo just came from.

When I follow the direction of Jem’s arm wave, I realise he’s looking over again, so quickly steer my gaze to meet Jo’s.

“Do you realise how loud you are?” Jo questions Jem.

“Sorry,” Jem silently mouths.

“Despite what you might think, I don’t sleep with every man that buys me a drink. And yeah, as easy on the eye as that particular man is, he’s also a client. I do not fuck my clients. . . even if they do have all that going on.”

There’s a gabble of noise and questions as Lou and Jemma clamber for information. You’d never believe these are the two who are happily married out of the four of us. Not that my friends are aware of the demise of my marriage yet.

My head spins for a second, and my stomach churns as my reality once again hits me. My entire life is about to implode, and here I am, getting drunk and making eyes at someone probably half my age.

“So, he’s a client? What does he do?” Lou asks.

I sneak another peek and feel ridiculous when he catches me and smirks. Why am I embarrassed when he’s the one still blatantly staring?

“He has a construction company that he runs with his family; two brothers, one sister. Their dad, Joe, started it when he first moved over here from the UK. He retired a couple of years ago, and now the kids run it. Jay probably knows of them Lauren, Wild Construction and Development.”

I’m not sure if she was asking me a question or just stating a fact. We live in a relatively small, beach-side town just outside of Melbourne. If he worked in construction, as my husband does, chances are, he would know, or at least know of him.

Still feeling a little out of it, I take the shot glass Jo places in my hand, realising the others are already holding theirs.

“He was very curious about you, Loz. He told me to make sure you knew this round of shots is on him.”

Snapped back to my senses, I bark out aloud, “What? Me? Why?” My eyes widen as I stare at Jo.

“What the fuck, Jo? What did you say? What did you tell him?”

Nervous paranoia bubbles Inside me. I’m not sure if it’s panic or anger I feel at the thought of them discussing me.

“Calm down, I didn’t tell him anything. I wasn’t about to break his heart and tell him you’ve been happily married forever.”

Heat rises from my belly, spreads across my chest, and climbs my throat before settling on my cheeks. This is it. This is the moment I say the words out loud and admit to my friends the truth about what my life has become.

“To friends and floors,” Lou again declares.

Choking back my emotions just long enough to knock back my shot, I slam my glass on the table, and burst into tears.

Too scared to look up, I cover my mouth with the back of my hand and stare down at the floor in an attempt at hiding my tears, but there’s no controlling the movement of my shoulders as my stomach heaves out a sob.

“Lauren?” sounding panicked, Jemma says my name.

The noise from the bar drifts away, becoming just a dull collection of sounds from somewhere far away. I still don’t look up.

I’m not ready.

Not ready to say the words.

Not ready for the sympathetic looks I know will come my way.

I’m the fixer, the solver of problems. I’m never the broken, the one to fall apart, and admitting that’s what I’ve become causes physical pain in my chest and belly.

For a few seconds there’s total silence. Drawing in a breath, I look up. My eyes shift from the blue, to the brown, then to the blue-eyed gazes of my friends. As a collective, they move. Lou puts her arm around my shoulders; Jo and Jemma stand either side. All of them positioned to block anyone else from witnessing my very public meltdown.

“I fucking knew it! I’ve thought for months something was wrong, but every time I’ve asked. . .”

“Jem!” Jo snaps.

“Sorry, but this is bullshit. She’d be the first to have one of us spilling our guts and the first to try and put things right.” Jemma’s eyes move from Jo to meet mine. “Cut the crap, Lauren, and tell us what the fuck’s going on. Are you sick? What are you hiding?”

“Am I going to need a cigarette for this?” Jo asks.

My lips rattle together as I let go of a long breath. “I think I’m going to need a cigarette for this,” I admit.

“Come on, I've got smokes,” Jo says, pulling her case from the wallet hanging from her wrist.

We follow her out to the veranda, which is the designated smoking area, and all but Lou light up a cigarette.

None of us are really smokers. We dabbled when we were at school, but when Jo fell pregnant, we all stopped, only for each of us to start again at various stressful times in our lives. Now, it’s mostly a social thing, when we all get together and drink too much, or right now when it’s a combination of all three.

Positioning ourselves around a table in the corner furthest from the doors leading into the bar, I stand with my back to everyone but my friends, and smoke in silence.

Taking in a long sip of the drink I’d grabbed from the tray Jo had set down, I stub out my cigarette, draw in a deep breath, and speak my truth.

“I’m leaving Jay, and I’m going to need your help to do it.”

My statement is met with silence, and I take a moment to study the expressions on my friend’s faces as they process my news. They don’t look shocked, with brows either raised or drawn together, it’s more like confusion they convey.

“What?” Jemma asks with a nervous laugh.

“Why?” Lou questions quietly.

“What did he do, Lauren?” Jo’s tone is cold and hard, sending a chill right through me.

I lick my lips, fold my arms across my chest, take a look around the decked area we’re standing on while taking a long moment to arrange my words.

She knows how much I love my husband. My friends all know. My marriage was the one they each aspired to have. For the almost twenty-seven years we’ve been together, Jay has been my best friend. Right alongside these women, me and him have grown up together, raised our boys, and successfully run two businesses. It’s been a joke amongst them all that even after all these years, we still fuck like rabbits. But now I have to explain how that all ended some months ago, that things have changed, and that idyllic life I once was living, has for me, become a living nightmare.

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