Promised (One Night 1)

‘Are you going to go over?’ I ask.

‘No.’ He almost laughs. ‘I don’t do the chasing, Livy.’

‘But you’ve been on dates. He invited you and put you on the guest list.’

‘Yes, he’s chasing.’

‘Playing hard to get?’

‘Treat them mean and all that.’ He places his fingertip on the base of my glass and applies a little pressure. ‘You’ll get that strawberry now.’

I look down and find I’ve sipped my way through my first glass and I can, indeed, get to the strawberry. I tilt and sigh as I sink my teeth into the sweet fruit. ‘Delicious.’ Just like the ones . . .

‘Another?’ He doesn’t wait for my answer. He takes my hand and leads me to the bar, which is a giant plank of clear glass, displaying bottles of champagne on ice beneath. ‘Two more.’ He signals to the waiter, who swiftly presents Gregory with two full glasses, before our empties are taken and I’m being led away.

‘Don’t you have to pay?’

‘Launch night. It’s all free, but don’t get too carried away.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Oh, he’s spotted us.’ Gregory starts to mildly fidget, and I look across the bar, finding Ben on his way over, smiling brightly. ‘Remember, sassy lady. It’s Greg.’

‘Yes, yes,’ I say, keeping my eyes on Ben’s big frame approaching.

‘Greg,’ Ben says formally when he arrives. ‘Glad you could make it.’ He extends his hand and Gregory takes it, shaking firmly.

‘Good to see you,’ my friend replies, dropping Ben’s hand and shoving his in his pocket. ‘This is Livy.’

I can’t help my brow from wrinkling in confusion. ‘Hi.’

‘The famous Livy.’ He leans in and kisses my cheek. ‘Thank you for coming.’ He pulls away, and I get my first proper look at him as I focus on his face and not his formal actions or bulked physique. He’s handsome in a rugged kind of way.

‘Thank you for inviting me.’

‘No problem.’ He slaps Gregory on the shoulder. ‘I wish I could talk a bit more, mate, but there are a million people here to speak to. Maybe later?’

‘Later.’ Gregory nods.

‘Great.’ Ben smiles warmly at me. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Livy.’

‘Sure,’ I say quietly, flicking my eyes from one man to the other before watching Ben’s back disappear into the crowd. ‘He’s not come out!’ I swing my body towards Gregory. ‘No one knows he’s g*y!’

‘Shhhh,’ Gregory hisses. ‘He’s waiting for the right time.’

I’m stunned. Gregory has been upfront and honest about his sexuality ever since he came out in high school, and he’s ridiculed those who haven’t been true to themselves. ‘These dates: you didn’t go out at all, did you?’

Gregory refuses to meet my eyes, his fidgeting becoming less mild. He looks downright uncomfortable. ‘No,’ he replies quietly.

My heart squeezes a little for my best friend. This is no different from a woman seeing a married man, who constantly assures her that he’ll leave his wife for her. And my role tonight is suddenly too clear. What a shitbag! ‘How old is he?’ I ask.

‘Twenty-seven.’

‘How long has he known himself?’ I press, not liking what I’m hearing.

‘He says he’s always known.’

Gregory’s answer only cements it for me. If he’s always known and he still hasn’t revealed his true sexual status, then what makes Gregory think that he will now? I don’t say that, though, because judging by the look on my friend’s face, he’s already asked himself that question. Gregory doesn’t act camp or feel the need to display his sexual preference for all to see, but he’s not ashamed of it, either. After spending just a minute with Ben, I can tell it’s not the case for him, and when I look across the bar and see him making an over-the-top display of greeting a woman, my thoughts are only confirmed.

I glance back to Gregory and see that his line of sight is pointed that way too, and in an attempt to distract him, I ask for another drink by waving my empty glass under his nose.

‘More?’

‘It’s going down very well.’ I go to hand my glass over, but quickly notice the strawberry. ‘Oh, wait.’ I tilt and catch the fruit, then give up my glass.

While Gregory fetches more drinks, I wander over to the glass-panelled gallery and lean over, observing the masses of well-groomed men and chicly dressed women below. This place is an exclusive, high-end club and reserved only for London’s elite. This should make me feel even more uncomfortable, but it doesn’t. I’m just glad I came, because with Ben avoiding Gregory in public places, he would’ve been floating around on his own like a plum.

‘Here.’ A flute appears over my shoulder. ‘What are you looking at?’

‘All of these rich people.’ I turn around and rest my bum against the glass. ‘Is it a private club?’

Gregory laughs. ‘What do you think?’

I hum my acknowledgement. ‘And Ben organised the opening?’

‘Yes, he’s renowned in his field.’ He leans his elbows on a tall glass table close by. ‘Don’t you notice it?’ he asks.

I look around. ‘Notice what?’

‘The looks.’ He nods to a group of men close by, all staring over at us, not bothering to hide their interest, even though I have male company. Gregory could be my boyfriend for all they know.