He threw his arms in the air. “I knew that bartender was trouble. You’re different since you laid eyes on him.”

“Go to Hell, Richard.” I started walking away, realising I couldn’t breathe the same air as him for another second. Before I got too far, I was grabbed around the waist and shoved up against the closest tree.

“Listen here, you unstable little freak.” He had both my arms pinned to the tree on either side of me. “You need to get down off your high horse and start playing ball.”

“Or what?” I seethed, barely able to refrain from spitting in his face.

“Or—”

Richard was yanked off me before he could finish his sentence.

“What the fuck?” Angus was holding Richard in a vise grip and Bea was standing next to him, stunned.

“Are you okay?” Bea asked, hurrying forward to check on me.

I pushed myself off the tree and dusted off. Bits of bark were stuck to the back of my dress and my hair was no doubt a teased mess. “I’m fine, thanks.” I stormed past all three of them and made for the ladies’ room, desperately wanting to fix myself up and calm down.

Bea appeared next to me, and I locked eyes with her reflection. She put her arm around me and held my gaze. I felt strengthened by her show of solidarity and refused to let the threatening tears fall. “Angus and I are leaving. We’re going to have a quick drink with a friend in the city. Will you come with us?”

I was ready to leave but not ready to go home by myself yet, so I nodded my agreement. “I’ll just say goodbye to Sia, Juniper and Zac.”

It took ages to leave as suspected. Sia was drunk and wanted me to stay and dance with her. It was almost midnight when, half an hour later, we were in Bea’s yellow VW.

“I’m sorry about the dramas with Richard,” I said, embarrassed by the whole scene we’d caused. “He’s taking our breakup really badly.”

“That was pretty fucked up, Juliette,” Angus said, turning to face me in the back seat. “You should be careful, and if he threatens you again, call the police. Get a restraining order against him.”

“I will.” Richard had always been so harmless. It all seemed completely ludicrous.

We found a place to park the car and Bea consulted her phone for directions. “Apparently this place is so cool it doesn’t even have a name.” She rolled her eyes, and I couldn’t help laughing. She was so down to earth it was refreshing.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Leo

The bar was a little out of the ordinary. The non-descript door in the alleyway opened up to an impressive setup. Exposed brick walls were painted white, and projectors were playing a mash-up of movies from varying decades and genres. When I’d first arrived, I’d recognised the airport scene from Casablanca. Instead of Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman’s voices, Dooley Wilson’s As Time Goes By was played through the sound system. I’d been told the bar had a really good reputation amongst the locals not just because of the cool décor, but because it literally had no name. Personally, I’d take a cold beer at a pub over these overpriced cocktails, but I needed the money and it was double time after midnight.

“You’re new.” It was just after midnight when a glazed-eyed redhead leaned in across the bar, pushing her boobs together and batting her eyelashes.

“First night.” Despite my sexual frustration, I had no interest. “What can I get for you?”

“You’re fucking hot.” Her words slurred.

I shook my head. “Okay, sweetheart. Maybe you should have water?”

“How ‘bout your number?” She ran her tongue over her upper lip then bit down on her bottom one. “When do you get off?”

I’d dealt with several of these situations in the last hour and it was getting irritating. “Against club policy, I’m afraid.” I had no idea what the policy was. Placing a tall glass of iced water in front of her, I hoped she’d get the hint. I couldn’t get Juliette out of my head, making every other girl simply fade away.

She fished an ice cube out of the glass and ran it down her chest towards her cleavage. She was clearly not taking the hint. Suddenly, she was pulled back, shrieking as she lost her grip on the ice cube and it disappeared into her tight-fitting top.

“Have some self-respect.” Bea stepped in front of my red-headed friend with authority, rolling her eyes.

“Nice timing.” I smiled to see my friend, a little surprised that she had made it instead of heading home. “How was the wedding?”

“The wedding was lovely. A few surprises.” She glanced over her shoulder into the crowd.

“Well, I’m a bit surprised you came. I thought you’d be desperate to get home.”

“I told you we’d stop by.”

“Hang on a sec. I’ll see if I can take my break now.” The Martin Scorcese masterpiece, Goodfellas, was playing out on the walls and through the speakers. It was a perfect choice because the music had an incredible way of telling the story. Pure genius, I’d thought. Layla wasn’t deafening, but we were still having trouble hearing each other over the bar. “I’ll bring a beer and a soft drink over. I presume you’re driving?”

“Can you bring a cocktail too? We bumped into a friend at the wedding. She’s with Angus trying to find us somewhere to sit.”

“Sure.” I held up my hand. “Give me five minutes.”

My break was overdue, so Adriana, the manager, reluctantly agreed to my request. The bar was busy but not that big, so it was easy to locate Bea in a bright red dress. She was waving to me from the lounges on the mezzanine level overlooking the bar. I made my way up the small flight of stairs, holding a tray of drinks. New Order’s Temptation was playing, and I knew Pulp Fiction would be gracing the white screen behind me.

As I got closer, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My body was on high alert. When Bea sat back down, I knew why. A vision in navy appeared opposite her. Juliette. She wasn’t looking my way. She was laughing at something Angus had said. It gave me a moment to stare at her insane beauty. She had looked fierce at fight night, dressed in black and wearing her attitude like armour. At her mother’s charity event, she had looked like an angelic goddess in white lace, tortured by something I didn’t understand. When she had appeared in my house, the ugly memories trampled all over her beauty and smeared it like blood—painful dark red streaks. Tonight, she surpassed anything my mind could have possibly conjured up, even in my wildest fantasies. She took my breath away.

When Angus looked up, so did Juliette. I must have looked like a deer in headlights, completely paralysed, but so did she. Seconds passed without a word spoken by anyone. At least I don’t think there were. I was deaf and mute, induced by the shock I felt seeing her again. Then she smiled and I could have died on the spot. It wasn’t a coy smile or a fake smirk. It was a million-megawatt grin that made me want to drop the tray of drinks, leap over the couch between us and ravish her, body and soul. I suddenly understood the French idiom ‘la petite mort’ or ‘the little death’. I’d thought at the time it was a ridiculous way of describing the post-orgasmic state. Yet there I was, believing it was possible to be rendered unconscious with ecstasy, and I was only looking at her smile.

Breaking the silence, Angus stood up and took the tray from me just as the music changed tempo and Stayin’ Alive from Saturday Night Fever pumped out around us to the squealing delight of the Saturday night crowd. “Thanks, mate. Can you join us for a few minutes?”

I hadn’t yet taken my eyes off Juliette, but his question finally registered with my brain and I shook my head to snap out of it.

“I’ve got ten minutes.” I shook Angus’ hand.

“Leo,” Bea said. “This is Juliette. She stopped by Beans a month or so ago and we bumped into her at the wedding.”