Chapter 3_ Regrets and restless ghosts
1378 Words
Grayson
The city stretched beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows in a sea of glass and light, but I barely noticed. My tie hung loosely around my neck after an afternoon Zoom meeting with my top admins.
Three weeks since I arrived in Newport and two weeks to the opening of the Newport branch office.
“Mr Hale?”
I glanced up to see Bridget, poking her head in my office.
“Yes, Bridget,
“The furniture company just called, something came up and the furniture will be delayed by three days”
“Oh perfect, just the delay we need” I replied sar castically
“Trust me to tell them we'll be leaving a bad review after this.” She added
“And the lighting guys, are they done?”
“Yeah all done, they just finished the last office”
“Good, that's progress at least”
“Indeed. I'm done for the day, would you be needing anything else”
“No, about to head out”
“See you tomorrow then” she responded and shut the door.
I leaned back in my chair and shot my eyes, the fatigue was starting to get to me.
Then Adrian sauntered into my office, hands in pockets, casual as ever.
“You look like s**t” he teased
“Yeah, I feel like s**t too”
“Seriously, you should get some rest. You've been working non-stop since you arrived” he stated,
“Have to, the opening is in two weeks. And things wouldn't get themselves done.”
“You'll work yourself to death at this point.”
He went over to my empty bar, save for one bottle of spirits, and poured himself a glass.
Adrian had been my partner in the startup of my business, till he sold his shares to me and went into the hospitality industry. His family's legacy chain. And we've been almost like brothers since then, no secrets kept from each other.
“So, have you heard?” He said
I looked up. “Heard what?”
“Seems you've not. Well, Elena Whitmore’s back.”
“Like hell.”
The name hit harder than I expected. Guess no matter how much I lied to myself, I never got over her.
Five years, and she still had an effect on me.
After Adrian left I tried to get a bit of work done before heading home, but I just couldn't. The numbers on the screen kept getting blurred the more I stared at them.
My mind dragged me back to that night. Her soft smile, the curves of her petite form, the way she'd looked at me like I was worth more than the world.
And I left. Left to escape the monster my father wanted to make of me, but ultimately I'd left her without even saying goodbye. I was a fool.
Every day away from Newport had felt like I was being stabbed in my heart, over and over again. Guess I deserved the pain.
I grabbed my jacket and headed out of the office, my thoughts were driving me crazy with guilt.
The evening air was chill, as I drove around the city. Going home early would be another round of torture that I just didn't want to go through.
And just then I drove past the cafe shop. Yeah her favourite coffee shop, the one she dragged me into on a rainy afternoon.
I ended up parked by the waterfront, leaned against the railings watching the waves move calmly. A complete contrast to how I felt.
My phone rings
Bridget
“Hey, so an invitation just came through for you.” She chirps
“What invitation?”
“Think it's about a charity gala, already mailed it to your home”
“Ok thanks”
“Guess you aren't home yet then, also remember to go over the final draft of designs I sent to your email.”
“Got it”
I hung up the phone before she gave out further tasks I wasn't interested in tending to.
My phone rings again
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me…”
I pulled it out of my pants and Adrian flashed across the screen.
“Hey man, you home yet?”
“Nah, just left the office”
“Oh good, come over to Nadi’s let's have drinks”
I ran a hand through my hair.
“You know I still got work…”
“You’ve been back in Newport for a week and stuck in your office. Come on, it's just a couple of drinks. You might even remember how to smile again.”
“I smile.”
“Yeah. Only when you close a deal. Also, it's my treat”
“Fine,” I said, more to shut him up than anything else. “And I'm not staying late.”
“We'll see about that.”
He hung up before I could change my mind.
The drive to Nadi's took about ten minutes. It was one of the numerous old stores that have stood in business over time in Newport.
Nadi's was warm and low-lit, the kind of place where furniture had been worn out by decades of bad decisions and whispered deals.
Andrian was at the bar and already had a glass in front of him when I slid into the next stool.
I clasped his shoulder. “You couldn't even wait for me to get here”
“You were taking too long”
“Tell that to Newport’s traffic”
He signaled to the barman. “He'll have what I'm having. Oh, and add ice matches his heart”
The barman smiled.
“Very funny” I replied sarcastically.
He smirks.
“How's the hotel doing, got a new manager yet?”
Since his last manager quit it had been a trouble getting another as qualified
“Still searching, but a few applications have come in.”
“That’s good.”
After a few rounds, it had gotten late and I decided to call it a night, duty calls.
I straightened and Adrian shot me a knowing look.
“I know you aren't trying to bail on me”
“You already know I am, long day at the office. I still have some work to go over.”
“Ok fine, I get it”
“Are you coming by the office tomorrow?”
“Maybe, the physical interview for the new manager position is tomorrow. So we'll see.”
I clasped his shoulder as I stood up. “Don't stay too long.”
He smirks. ”You know I've always been able to hold down my liquor.”
“We'll see tomorrow.” I didn't want to go on bickering with him on who holds down their liquor better.
The drive back to my apartment was a blur of headlights and winter haze. Newport somehow felt smaller at night like the streets were closing in, pulling me into a place I had left behind.
I loosened my tie with one hand and pulled down the window, the cold air brought a little ease.
I dialed Bridget. She picked on the second ring.
“Hey boss, are you still out?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Listen, I need a favor. The Newport Foundation Gala get me the guest list.”
There was a pause. “That’s not public, Greyson. We're not the host”
“That hasn't ever stopped you before.” My voice was sharper than I had intended.
She signed. “Fine, give me fifteen minutes.”
By the time I got home, the PDF attachment was already sitting in my email labeled simply “CONFIDENTIAL.”
I poured myself a drink before opening it. I skimmed through the roles of names, investors, donors, and most families I had grown up resenting.
And then I saw it.
Whitmore, Elena.
Five years of silence, five years of wondering, and now her name was staring back at me. I let myself whisper her name out loud.
“Elena…”
It tasted the same, hurt the same.
And God help me, I knew if she was walking into that gala, no force on earth could keep me from her.
- Writer
