Cocktails, Rock Tales & Betrayals Read online

  At least they would now be in the same country. Despite Skype, emails, and conference calls being the main staple of their relationship over the last couple of months, actually being in the same room when it came to choosing decor, soft furnishings, or light fittings was going to make such a difference. Particularly as they'd left quite a lot to the last minute. Such as recruiting staff.

  She jostled with the mostly dark-suited men flowing through the door to the arrivals hall. Dressed all in white - linen trousers, a cotton camisole, and a pashmina thrown around her shoulders - she stood out beautifully, despite being totally inappropriately dressed for the weather she was coming back to. Her sun-streaked hair tumbled around her shoulders, held off her face by a pair of massive designer sunglasses. As usual, she was completely oblivious to the wistful glances of the men around her, contrasted with the glares of the wives and girlfriends wondering if their other half had been the lucky one to be seated next to the beauty. What they didn't know was that she'd pretty much slept for the majority of the flight, giving in to the inevitable hangover brought on by her leaving party and realising the identity of her one-night stand.

  Transferring the large oak leather Mulberry hobo from one shoulder to another, she craned her neck trying to see Nic.

  Anyone witnessing their reunion would have assumed they were a couple, given that Caro practically leapt on Nic, wrapping her long legs around him and kissing him full on the mouth. With his tightly-muscled frame - a result of hours spent in the gym - long blond hair, and green eyes behind tortoiseshell-framed glasses, he wasn't short of admirers.

  She could almost hear the collective sigh of relief from the waiting wives.

  “Travelling light, I see,” said Nic, indicating her small suitcase as he lowered her back towards the floor.

  “A couple of t-shirts and a string bikini doesn't really take up a great deal of room,” said Caro, laughing. “Although I definitely need to buy more clothes, it's freezing over here.” She grabbed the sweater that Nic had slung round his shoulders and pulled it on, before wrapping the pashmina back around her body. “I'm getting some stuff shipped back once I know where I'm staying permanently.”

  Nic took her suitcase and marched off in the direction of the car park.

  “You're in a rush, got a hot date or something?” she said. “Oh, no, wait, Olivia's said she'll be home by the time we get back.”

  When Caro had first heard about Nic dating Olivia, she had been both pleased and scared. Olivia Cole was Caro's oldest and best friend. They went way back to university days and had been firm friends since they were put into a group project in their first term of their media degree. The two of them ended up doing all the work, staying up late into the night to complete the mock up of a new music magazine, which had won them all distinctions. Olivia was now a freelance PR consultant, picking up a diverse portfolio of clients from an amazing propensity to network after a short, but successful agency-based career.

  Caro and Nic had first met in Ibiza after Caro had graduated, and had embarked on a passionate, but tumultuous, affair. After numerous arguments, followed by fantastic make-up sex, they both realised that they worked better as friends and ultimately business partners. Several years later, they were still extremely close and cared about who the other got involved with.

  Nic and Olivia getting together meant that they both knew things about Caro that she didn't necessarily want the other to know. Delighted as she was that they were together, she lived in fear of her deepest, darkest secrets coming out.

  “She said she'd try to be back,” Nic said. “But you know what she's like with work. And I don't want to get stuck in traffic. I thought you'd probably want a quiet night tonight, we can just get a take away and chill.”

  “I'm fine,” Caro said. “I didn't have a late one last night, I'm not that tired. But it's okay for me to stay with you for a while until I'm settled?” They had touched on her living arrangements in the last week and Nic had offered her his spare room until she found somewhere else.

  Nic nodded. “Sure, I know you'll get sorted soon.”

  Despite Caro’s protestations that she wasn’t tired, it took her all of about five minutes to fall asleep in the car, only opening her eyes when the engine was switched off.

  “God, Nic, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise I'd dropped off. That must have been such a dull journey for you.” Caro gave a catlike stretch, trying to muster the energy to get out of the car.

  He laughed. “Don't worry, your snoring is still as delightful as ever.”

  They ambled round to Nic's flat. He still lived in the university district of North Ridge, which suited him well when he needed people to go to a gig or hang out in a club. But not so good when he had an early meeting with a solicitor and was kept up until all hours by banging drum-and-bass music.

  While Caro installed herself in the spare room, her sparse amount of belongings exploding all over the bed as she looked for some warmer clothes to wear, Nic ordered Chinese food from the takeaway down the road.

  Thirty minutes later, Caro had showered and the two of them were curled up on the sofa, boxes of noodles in their hands and a bottle of red on the go, music videos on the TV turned down low in the background.

  Nic's phone beeped. He rolled his eyes as he read Olivia's text aloud to Caro, telling him she was working late and would be going back to her place that night. “She said to give her a ring though,” he said. “Honestly, since she's started working for herself, I barely see her.”

  “Shows she made the right decision though, she's obviously getting some decent clients.”

  “Mmm,” said Nic, as Caro scrabbled under a cushion for her phone. She switched it on to activate the UK network, making a mental note to get a new one. Almost immediately her phone chirruped into life with a message from Mariella saying how much she missed Caro already, and a couple of missed calls from Olivia.

  Returning Olivia’s call, Caro waited for her to answer.

  “Caro!” Olivia squealed down the phone. “You’re back! I can't wait to see you - you'll never believe who I've just scored a contract with...”

  “I gather from Nic you're really in demand. Knowing you it could be anyone, just tell me!”

  “Numb Records. They want me to work with Blood Stone Riot on their debut release.”

  Caro went cold. She hadn't expected to hear of Alik Thorne again - well, at least not so close to home. “Really? Blood Stone Riot? That's really cool, Olivia, congratulations.” She hoped she didn't sound odd.

  Nic looked up from his phone where he'd been checking email.

  Caro arranged to have lunch with Olivia in Sarastro, a popular restaurant in the centre of North Ridge, the following day, before they ended their call.

  “So Olivia's told you about Blood Stone Riot,” Nic said. “And guess where they're going to be shooting part of their video? Yep, in our club.” He beamed. “She thought it would be great for both of us; word should get round about The Indigo Lounge and when the video comes out we'll get more trade. They may even be up for playing opening night.”

  Caro nodded. She didn't want to think about Alik Thorne right now. Putting him firmly out of her mind, she turned her attention to the text that had arrived when she was on the phone to Olivia. The text was from Jonny Tyler, club promoter and Caro’s on-off boyfriend.

  “Jonny wants me to see a band with him tomorrow night.” She avoided Nic's gaze, knowing what he thought of her relationship with the promoter. Although ‘relationship’ was probably too strong a word; ‘friends with benefits’ probably summed it up better. The easy, no strings, on again, off again that came with two people that knew each other intimately, but didn't want to make a commitment. Jonny had shown up in Mallorca on several occasions for a day or two. They had spent most of the time in bed or out at clubs and it suited them fine.

  Caro knew Nic disapproved because he thought that she could do better.

  But he didn't know about her most recent dalliance with the up
and coming rock star. The up and coming rock star that was going to be around a lot.

  Something that, right now, seemed best to keep to herself.

  Chapter Three

  Having spent the last few years getting up around lunchtime and starting work mid-afternoon, it came as a bit of a shock to Caro to be up and in the office by ten o'clock. Nic had woken her shortly before eight and she'd struggled to remember where she was for the second morning running. After a quick cold shower, Caro selected an outfit from her meagre wardrobe. As she pulled on her jacket, she made a promise to herself that she would go shopping soon. She met Nic at the front door and they walked to the club together. It was Caro's first time actually seeing the club in the flesh - she'd seen plenty of pictures and floor plans over the past few weeks, but still felt excited.

  The building itself was in a row of other bars and restaurants just outside of the main shopping hub of North Ridge, plain from the outside with big, black doors, which Caro had already decided should be painted indigo. Once inside, there was a large open space which they had decided would be akin to a reception area, with a cloakroom off it, before another set of doors which led into the main bar. This was dominated at the far end by a stage big enough to hold a decent sized band and all their equipment, but still small enough to have a slightly intimate feel to it. On the left hand side was a wide bar, with mirrors behind it to make the room look twice the size. Upstairs was the small and cosy balconied VIP lounge, as well as the facilities; Caro had insisted that the ladies be far more glamorous and spacious than all the other bars she frequented. There was a further flight of stairs led up to the top floor, which housed their office.

  The office was open plan and took up the entire loft space. Caro and Nic each had a desk and there was a further table that held a lot of architect's plans and other paperwork, as well as a big, overstuffed, leather sofa. There was still quite a lot of work to be done and there were workmen, tools, dust, and general chaos everywhere.

  Caro read through a pile of CVs from applicants for their bar manager job. “Urgh, can't people write a decent sentence anymore?” she complained, discarding the latest application.

  “You look like you need this,” said Nic, placing a large cup of black coffee in front of Caro.

  She gratefully took a sip of the too-hot liquid before turning her attention to swatches of fabric that were her choices for the couches for the VIP area. “I’d forgotten what it's like to have a dearth of candidates. In The Roca Bar, you were tripping over people who wanted to work there.”

  “Wasn't that just because they didn't want to go home?”

  Caro threw a balled-up piece of paper at Nic's head. “Ha, ha, you're funny. Where's the latest project plan anyway? I need to know when we have to interview.”

  Nic rooted around on the spare desk, finally unearthing the document he was looking for. He smoothed it down in front of Caro and she started checking dates against the calendar. As they counted the days and weeks off, there was a sudden realisation that the opening was a hell of a lot closer than either of them had anticipated, and panic started to set in. It had been increasingly difficult over the last couple of months to try to do everything remotely, despite access to the best technology enablers. Nic had been the one in situ taking all the meetings and making all the applications with the planners, the council, the builders, and the decorators. Caro had been the one doing a lot of the online snagging and getting things delivered to Nic, despite not always being able to see the products she was buying. This had resulted in a random delivery of massive, bean bag-sized cushions, because Caro hadn't translated the measurements correctly. And while they thought there was some merit in the punters lounging around, it didn't really fit with the dynamic, rock-themed bar they were creating. Logic and sense took over and they started to make a list of everything that needed doing on a series of Post-It notes, sticking them up on the wall in some sort of order that led up to the opening. Staffing was definitely going to be an issue if they wanted to take on someone who had to give notice elsewhere, meaning that task suddenly moved up the priority list. They created piles of CVs for bar staff, security staff, cleaning staff, and general staff, with Caro taking overall responsibility for the task. She curled up on the sofa and started reading, creating piles of CVs for the people she wanted to interview and those they would reject. There was some semblance of order when her mobile rang.

  “You're still free for lunch, right?” said Olivia, cutting right to the chase. “We have to catch up before tonight.”

  Caro looked over at Nic. “If we can agree on a shortlist for interviews, then I think Nic might let me out to play...”

  “I'm guessing that's Olivia?” said Nic, as he looked up from the brewery price list he was studying.

  Caro nodded. “Lunch...and maybe some shopping too? I need something to wear this evening. My wardrobe is more beach chic than city chic right now and I don't think a sarong is going to cut it somehow.”

  “You could always start a new trend. Look what it did for David Beckham,” said Olivia.

  “Somehow not quite in that league. I'll see you later.”

  * * *

  Sarastro was heaving, as usual. As one of North Ridge's most popular restaurants, it attracted a wide range of clientele, from ladies who lunched and men on business, to students and couples and families. Even on a weekday lunchtime, it was almost impossible to get a table. Impossible unless you had been terribly organised, like Olivia, and had the foresight to book. Caro swept past the waiting line, straight to the maitre d, causing grumbles and dirty looks from the people who were queuing, as she advised him that she was meeting a friend.

  The waiter reviewed the booking sheet, located Olivia's name and crossed off the details with a flourish. “Of course, madam, follow me.”

  He led her through to the back of the restaurant, where it was quieter and there was more space. Olivia was sitting at a table, studying a menu as she waited for Caro to arrive.

  “Your guest, madam.”

  Olivia leapt up and threw her arms around Caro. “Oh my God, it's so good to have you back home! You've been gone for so long!”

  In reality, it had probably only been about six weeks since they had last seen each other, during Olivia's last free trip to Mallorca. But her sentiment felt genuine.

  Caro hugged Olivia back with equal enthusiasm. “And you look pretty hot.” She held Olivia at arm's length and took in the smartly styled glossy dark brown hair, the tight navy cigarette pants, the stylishly-embroidered top and the perfectly made-up face. Working for herself obviously suited her.

  “You don't look so bad yourself, considering you arrived back here last night and I doubt that you had an early one the night before.”

  As they sat down, Caro debated whether or not to tell Olivia what had happened with Alik Thorne. She was just about to say something when Olivia spoke.

  “It's just crazy working with Edie Spencer-Newman and Alik Thorne. Talk about a power couple. I mean, I thought I was lucky to have landed the gig with Edie, but when she spoke to a couple of people and, I don't know, maybe greased a couple of palms or something, before I knew it, I was in Numb's offices talking to Parker Roberts about PR for Blood Stone Riot!” Olivia gestured to a waiter and ordered them a bottle of rosé. “One minute I'm talking about jewellery and lingerie and the next about black metal. It's mad!”

  Caro was vaguely aware of Edie, but hearing that she was Alik Thorne’s other half was news to her. He hadn’t mentioned a girlfriend when they’d been together. Edie had been Olivia's first client and they had celebrated her winning the contract with way too much sangria the last time they'd been together. She had read something in a gossip mag about the vintage shop Edie was opening, but had dismissed it as nothing more than another pretty little rich girl dabbling in business.

  “How much time do you spend with them?” asked Caro.

  Olivia shrugged. “I've spent a lot of time in the shop or with Edie lately because it's n
ot long until The Magpie's launch. I haven't met Blood Stone Riot properly yet, but I think Alik has been hanging out at the club with Nic.”

  Caro sighed. She thought it best not to mention her liaison to Olivia. She didn't want to put her friend in a difficult situation and it was likely that Alik wouldn't remember her anyway.

  They spent the next few hours chatting, eating, and drinking as the lunchtime trade ebbed and flowed around them. Olivia explained that since landing the two lucrative contracts, she had been able to strike out on her own and it was now 'Olivia Cole, owner of The OC PR' rather than 'Olivia Cole, PR Manager for The View Consultancy.' Caro knew that Olivia's time at The View Consultancy had been hard. She had been constantly undermined by two old-school partners who thought that a young lady had no place in their boys' network, even though she regularly brought in high-profile clients and high-worth deals. It was, thought Caro, slightly risky working with just one couple, but she assured Olivia that she would get more clients - she always had in the past. Caro shared her excitement about returning to North Ridge and starting out with Nic. It felt like it was a new beginning for both of them.

  They talked and talked until Caro noticed the time and suggested they get the bill.

  Olivia paid and Caro didn't fail to notice the gold credit card that came out of the expensive leather wallet, clearly a result of her new found success. Caro didn't begrudge Olivia that. After all she had, for many years, been used and abused by the consultancies and agencies she had worked for, and should have been treated better; it made total sense that she should now be able to do her own thing.