Secrets We Keep

Secrets We Keep: Chapter Five

“Sorry babe, I got held up here at Marcky’s! I swear I’ll be there soon!”

I sighed, covering my left ear so that I could hear him better through the phone in my other ear. The boisterous noise coming from the club was filtering bits and pieces of Jonah’s response and I had to cover my vacant ear to be able to hear him from the other line. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just wait here.” I told him. “Be careful on your way. And don’t drive, just wait for Marcky to drive you.” 

There was a loud screaming of countless guys from his end before he got distracted and ended the call. I stood outside Revel—the most famous club in town—shivering from the nippy cold wind, biting on my exposed shoulders. I’ve forgotten why I chose a tank top to wear on a cool night like this. 

Jonah wanted us to go clubbing for tonight, insisting we tried everything before he went back to London with his family two weeks from now, but his friends from high school snatched him away even before he got out of their house so he told me to just meet him here after I closed the bakery.

“Cayla?” I heard a familiar voice from behind me.

My eyes widened in shock. “Patrick! What are you doing here?”

“Jonah’s invited Sarah and I here for drinks.” He answered, as he pocketed his car keys. “I’m still waiting for her.”

“Oh.” I muttered in response. I didn’t realize we’d be having company. I guess this was better than waiting alone. “Jonah got held up, I’m sure he’ll be on his way soon.” 

“Would you like to go inside while we wait?” He proffered, holding out his hand to the direction of the club entrance.

I nodded and walked towards the massive black doors of the establishment before stopping on my tracks halfway through.

“Actually, do you mind if we wait somewhere else?” I told Patrick. “I don’t necessarily enjoy loud places like this.” 

He smiled at me, somewhat amused. “No, not at all.”

Patrick took me to a more reserved place called En Route Distillery. It was located in a more concealed part of the town in an alleyway, a part of the town which I’ve never explored before. 

The place gave an exceptionally exclusive ambience. There were a handful of people at the bar but mostly were on semi-private booths that were separated by a row of brown tassels with gilded copper crimp suspended from the ceiling and ran down to the floor. 

“Have you had dinner already?” Patrick asked. 

I shook my head and smiled sheepishly. “I haven’t. I forgot.”

“You forgot to have dinner?” He asked in disbelief.

He caught the attention of one of the waiters, who immediately led us to one of the rooms at the further back of the establishment. Inside was also lined with gold tassels on either side of the wall, and a cool black and white abstract painting on the center wall opposite the door. Different layers of lamp hung at the center of the ceiling, setting off a rather dim yet gold hue across the room. 

Patrick and I sat on either side of the table. It felt a little awkward being in a room alone with my boyfriend’s brother but of course, being the gentleman that Patrick was, there was no other way this could have gone with him knowing his little brother’s girlfriend had not yet eaten dinner. Besides, I’d like to think we were also friends once upon a time even before Jonah and I got together, so maybe for him it was like treating an old friend to dinner—who just happened to be his brother’s girlfriend. Or maybe a little sister. I shuddered at the thought. 

The menu had an excellent range of variety, from Japanese, to Western, to Indian, to SouthEast Asian, making it difficult for me to choose something when I wanted almost everything. Especially now that my hunger had been acknowledged, it could no longer be ignored and tolerated. 

“How did you find this place?” I asked Patrick, only now realizing that he wasn’t even looking at his menu but at me intently. 

“It’s an old friend of mine’s.” He replied, his eyes never leaving mine. I looked back down at their menu, unable to hold his gaze. “Would you care to explain how in the world a chef’s able to miss her own dinner?”

I chuckled. “Well, that’s exactly the reason. I’m a chef. I’m too busy serving people their dinner that I usually forget my own. Having too many taste-tests of each dish I create during service usually makes me so full already that I hadn’t realized I hadn't eaten.” 

Patrick produced a smile that was a hybrid of a smirk and amusement. “I never knew that’s possible.” 

 My cheeks immediately grew hot having just realized that that was probably the longest speech I managed to spew in front of Patrick. 

“Would you like to order now?” He asked. 

I ran a hand through my hair before responding. “I think I’ll let you order for me since you seem to know this place really well.” 

He smiled before gesturing the waiter to come over. I didn’t catch what he told him since they were talking quietly but it seemed like Patrick was well known here. 

I looked at my phone from under the table, checking to see if Jonah had already called which he hadn’t, not even a text message, so I figured he was still at Marcky’s. 

“Has he called already?” Patrick asked, causing me to jump a little. 

I smiled briefly. “No. Sarah?”

He shook his head gently. We sat in silence after that. It was already thirty past ten and there was still no news from either of our partners. Now, here I was in front of my childhood friend whom I had a tiny crush back then, sitting like a bacteria under a microscope. 

Patrick really grew up splendidly. His face was clean shaven and he had a very well tailored suit on even on a casual night like this. His hair was well-maintained, combed and quaffed, although I bet he didn’t put much effort into it. Actually now that I think about it, the one thing that didn’t change about him was the hair. He has always kept it neat even back then at camp. Slowly, I felt my heart beat ascend into a faster, more irregular pace. 

“Are you alright?” Patrick asked. “You seem flushed.” 

I quickly smiled and looked away, subconsciously scratching the back of my neck with one hand. “I’m fine.”

He stared at me keenly, measuring my expressions carefully before the door opened and the waiter delivered our orders. He ordered rock shrimp tempura and calamari for appetizers, a classic Caesar Salad, and A5 Wagyu steak for each of us. And everything was entirely divine. Each dish tasted better than they looked. This was exactly the kind of food I wanted to create for my bakery’s extension and immediately, I wanted to get back to my kitchen and experiment on new stuff… maybe tomorrow.

“Thank you for dinner, Patrick. Everything was amazing.” I said as the waiter cleared our table and replaced the food with a bottle of Macallan 30 and two tumblers with an ice ball each. My eyes widened at the expensive bottle of liquor before us. I knew it was expensive. I memorized Sal’s Product List for wine and liquor even though I only order about five to six kinds on his list. It was half past six grand, and that’s a wholesale price. 

Wait, are we supposed to drink all of that?

“Would you like a glass?” He said, uncapping the bottle and pouring it into the glasses. “I figured you preferred this over wine.”

I was afraid to say yes. Frankly because I didn’t know if we were splitting the bill. But also because I wouldn’t want to be partly intoxicated when Jonah shows up.

I looked down to see my phone, still empty of updates from Jonah, so I looked back up at Patrick and nodded, accepting his offer of a drink. 

Where in the hell was Jonah?

I took a sip of the expensive scotch, letting my palate fill with the intense variety of flavors. It had a very citrusy aroma, compensating for its nutty and fruity flavor staying in my mouth as an elegant aftertaste. 

Patrick had an amused expression on his face. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked. “Is there something on my face?"

“Nothing.” He replied, smiling to himself as he took another swig of his drink. 

“You’re right.” I told him. “I do prefer this over wine. Anything except wine as a matter of fact, just not this expensive.”

I took another unhurried sip, looking around the room. Everywhere else except at Patrick, who seemed to be having no hard time studying me with his stern eyes. 

“Excuse me,” I said, standing up. “I need to use the restroom.” 

Without waiting for his response, I went out in search of the restroom, finding it on the other side of the bistro. I needed to splash some water on my face. Nothing about this night was going as planned. It was supposed to be a night with Jonah, who was nowhere to be found, without a call, or a text—not even a letter brought by an owl. And now I was stuck in a private room with his older brother who happened to be my old crush in a terribly awkward situation fueled by a bottle of expensive scotch, which I happen to love. 

That last bit made me sound like an alcoholic. 

I stared at the full length mirror in the restroom, my white v-neck tank top was barely holding on, tucked into my navy blue high trousers that hugged my legs up until my ankle, meeting the single strap of my simple black heels. I fished my phone from my bag, dialing Jonah to no avail. It just rang and rang until it led straight to voicemail. 

Sighing in defeat, I blew out a heavy breath, wafting upwards a little bundle of my hair that laid before my eyes and face. I straightened up my stance, ran my hand across my hair a couple of times before tucking the right side behind my ear, and went to return to our room. 

Patrick was looking at the abstract wall pensively when I got into the room. One of his hands laid on the armrest while the other was on his lips, his index finger gently stroking the bottom one.

He immediately looked at me when I entered, and especially stared at me when I took the bottle of Macallan, poured some into my glass, and downed it in one gulp before taking a seat.

I let the liquor sink into me, welcoming its effects with a warm embrace as it reciprocated the warmness throughout my entire body. Patrick’s gaze wasn’t leaving me, studying my every action prudently.

“Did he…” I started, pausing for a bit to bite my lip briefly before continuing. “ Did he ask you to babysit me?”

Patrick straightened up in his chair, flailing the flap of his dark chestnut brown blazer a little as he was. “What’s wrong?”

“Did he?” I pressed. 

“Cayla, I don’t—” 

“Patrick, did he or did he not ask you to accompany me while he went out and about with his friends?” I elaborated my question without letting him finish. I thought Patrick was being nice to me, treating me to dinner while we both waited, instead he was just cleaning up after his brother like he always did. 

“No.” He replied adamantly, staring directly into my eyes. “Believe it or not, Cayla, taking you here to get something to eat was not part of any scheme my brother concocted.” 

His face was serious and he seemed to be telling the truth. Patrick had no reason to lie to me, except maybe to cover up for his little brother but that didn’t seem like the case judging on his reaction. 

 I felt my face soften before sighing. “I’m sorry. I forgot we both got ditched tonight.” 

“I’m fairly certain Jonah has a perfectly valid reason.” He reassured me, measuring my expression. “Would you like to go home?”

Would I? 

“No,” I said, slightly shaking my head. “Do you mind if we stay a little longer?”

“We can stay as much as you’d like.”

  Patrick and I spent the next hour sharing awkward glances and smiles. When I decided not to go home earlier, I only thought of not going home so that I wouldn’t be thinking about Jonah while I laid in bed, probably restlessly. I didn’t take into consideration the amount of discomfort I had to acknowledge when I spent the entire night drinking my blues away with Patrick.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Patrick started. “How did you and Jonah… you know, got together?”

I almost choked on my liquor, which rapidly burned down my throat, causing me to cough excessively. Immediately, I wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand and punched my chest as I worked out my unattractive barking. 

“I’m sorry, did I upset you?” Patrick asked, handing me a blue handkerchief.

I shook my head, rejecting his hanky, still in between breaths. “No! I—it’s okay, thank you. I was just a little caught off guard. I just didn’t expect you to ask that.”

He looked at me with an amused expression on his face, looking like he was trying to contain his laughter—which caused me to eventually burst out in laughter and him following me. We had a moment of raucous uproar before slowly settling. 

“It’s actually a long story.” I told him, downing the rest of my drink. “Ultimately, it comes down to Jack bringing us together.”

“Jack?” Patrick asked, a slightly confused expression on his face. “Jack Porter?”

I nodded. “The same one.”

“Forgive my confusion, but how does he fit into this?” He frowned. “I thought you were with him.”

“With him—with him? Who? Jack? No! Never! We’re just really close friends.” I replied. “What makes you—wait, is that how Jack and I look when we’re together?”

“My mistake,” Patrick responded, his face a little pensive. “I apologize.”

His face seemed kind of unconvinced, like there was something bothering him about the fact that Jack and I never dated. If Patrick, who was thousands of miles away thought that Jack and I were dating, what did the entire town of Haven Falls think about us?

Patrick and I fell into another set of silence, as we both indulged ourselves with the expensive scotch before us. We were almost into half of the liquor and I had the perfect urge to down the entire bottle but I held myself back. I wasn’t about to let my boyfriend’s older brother s***h childhood crush know that I had a distillery for a stomach. Good thing I had quite the tolerance for alcohol. But even with that, my sight was starting to have a rosy background. 

“Might I just say,” Patrick announced, looking at me with a hint of amused expression on his face. “I didn’t expect you to be someone with a pretty outstanding alcohol tolerance, given how tiny you are.”

“I guess I’ve had practice.” I replied, smiling a little. “Back when I was an intern, almost everyday I went out with my colleagues after shift. I’d have a glass or two, but that was my limit.”

“That’s not exactly practice.” He remarked, smirking. “That’s a nightcap at best.”

I chuckled. “I guess you’re right. But it did go on for about a year.”

“Do you go out much?” He asked.

I bit my lip. “Not really, no. My idea of a night out is going to my parent’s house where my parents and I would share a bottle of bourbon and vege-out in front of the TV. My Dad and I take it neat but my Mom would always conjure up some new cocktail of her own recipe and would always pass out on the couch after a few.”

“That would be an interesting sight.”

“Ever since I’ve had the bakery, my fun and rough nights have mellowed into nightcaps with my folks, or at home. I guess you could say I got old too quickly.”

“Well, if you call that being old, you could consider me ancient.” He said. 

“Why?” I asked. “You strike me as the type everybody would invite out every night.”

“I am.” He confirmed. “But I’m not the type who says yes to everyone.”

I looked at him in awe, but I tried to hide it. It was difficult not to be. Having talked to Patrick in a small period of time made me realize the difference he and Jonah had. 

I checked for the time on my phone and saw it was already almost 1 a.m. It suddenly dawned on me that this was the second time Jonah had left me by myself. Did he know that Patrick was with me, that's why he was confident not to show up? Because it’d hurt even more to know that he didn’t know and he left me with no one to accompany for the night.

         “He’s not coming, is he?” I asked Patrick, finally coming to terms with the situation.

         Patrick looked at me, his face was hard with fury. He was probably mad at Sarah for not showing up as well.

         “I should probably go.” I told him. “Still have an early day tomorrow… or later.”

         His eyes widened for a brief moment, slightly straightening in his seat. He nodded and ordered the waiter to take our bottle and gave his card for the bill.

         “I’ll take you home.” He said.

         I shook my head, standing up. “No, that’s fine. I have my car at the bakery. And besides, I’ve troubled you enough for today.”

He stood next to me, his tall stature hovering over my tiny one. “It’s no trouble. I’m not going to let you drive like this, Cayla. If it makes you feel better, I can also drive you to work tomorrow. ”

         I stared at him in complete disbelief. Was Patrick this nice before? I barely remember. He really had grown into the perfect gentleman. I knew I had a great judge of character when I thought Patrick was a nice person, but I just didn’t know it was this spot on. I’ve always known he was a score but I guess so did everyone.

       Patrick stared back at me, directly boring into my eyes—my hazel ones to his cobalts. He had a soft expression on his face—like a baby who had just woken up from a sound nap and everything else around him was pleasant, before the waiter interjected and gave his card back. 

        The air outside was chilly. There were barely any people outside, only the ones stumbling out of bars and clubs but even that was limited. That was Haven Falls for you, with the exact population of three thousand eight hundred forty six. You’d think it was impossible to know three thousand people in your life, but trust me, in a small town where you meet most of everyone everyday, it could be very achievable.

Patrick drove like a sober person. I guess he had quite the tolerance too. I was actually quite relieved he offered to take me home. My mind was filled with Jonah’s whereabouts and at the same time, Patrick and I’s little time together was reeling in my mind repeatedly even though we haven’t even separated ways. The amount of Macallan I’ve consumed was also already taking its toll on my sobriety and it was winning. 

I taught him the directions to my apartment, which to my surprise, he already knew. He pulled in front of my building and went out to open the door for me. 

“How do you know where I live?” I asked him as we stood outside my apartment building. 

“I’ve dropped Jonah here, once or twice.” He replied, pocketing his hands.

Right. Of course. Jonah didn’t have a car since he was only visiting for two months and we used my car to get to work, so that’s probably how he got to my apartment in the morning. Whenever he needed to go around and I wasn’t driving him, Jack would. 

“Well, thank you for babysitting me tonight Patrick.” I told him, already feeling kinda groggy. Did I really just point out that he was babysitting me?

He laughed softly. “Pleasure was all mine, Cayla.” 

“And thank you for dinner.” I told him.

He smiled, seemingly amused. “Of course.”

“Also for driving me home.” I muttered, which he reciprocated with a single nod of acknowledgement while still smiling. 

Patrick began splitting into two. I was starting to feel the effects of the half a bottle of Macallan 30 and it was almost to the brink of victory. I blinked him back into one. I better bid my goodbye before Macallan completed its triumph. 

“Goodbye, Patrick.” I paused for a moment, contemplating whether to say what I was thinking or not but before I even came up with a decision, my mouth already said the words. “This may sound a little cruel, but I’m glad we both got ditched tonight.” 

I was pretty sure he muttered something before my eyes started dropping and I lost all control over my body, including my consciousness.