Page 12 of Ethan & Grace
“Shouldn’t you be in Cambridge?”
James turned on the windscreen wipers as we approached Cromwell Road. “I decided spontaneously to take a few days off. It’s my grandma’s birthday tomorrow. And besides, I’ve missed London.”
“You could come and visit more often,” I suggested. I missed having James around. Before going off to different universities, James and I had shared a room at boarding school. We’d spent all our time together, and we knew everything about each other. He was more of a brother to me than my actual brothers.
He sighed. “I know. But the parties are so good.”
“You can’t have both.”
“Next weekend I can,” he said proudly. “There’s a new club opening in Soho on Saturday. My dad knows the owner, and he got us on the VIP guest list. Apparently Deadmau5 is playing. It’s going to be wild. You’ll come, right?”
I hesitated. “I don’t know . . .”
“Come on!”
“I’m trying to take things easy right now,” I responded as James slowed to a stop at a red light. He turned and stared at me with his big brown eyes, as if he were a child and I’d just told him Santa Claus didn’t exist. I caved. “Will Charles be there?”
Charles and I had the kind of friendship most people would probably call an armed truce. His parents were filthy rich. My parents were filthy rich. That alone meant we had more in common with each other than most people, which was why we’d ended up in the same clique. Still, it had always been obvious that we brought out the worst in each other, especially when we were drunk.
The light turned green, and the car glided off again, engine purring smoothly. “Yeah. I got him and Nate on the guest list too. Is that a problem?”
“I don’t want any trouble.”
“There’ll only be trouble if you provoke him.”
“Everything I say provokes Charles when he’s been drinking.”
“I’ll make sure you two don’t smash each other’s heads in,” he promised.
I snorted. Not long ago, Charles had dealt me a punch at a party on the Asterdams’ yacht that had left me with a black eye and knocked me into the open sea—right in front of James. I could count my lucky stars that another party guest had been sober enough to throw me a lifebuoy and haul me out of the water.
“It won’t be any fun without you,” James needled.
I groaned. “Fine.”
“Hell yes!” he shouted, pounding the steering wheel in delight. His big grin reassured me that perhaps going out again wasn’t such a bad idea. “So what else is new with you? How are things at the hotel? What’s Henry up to?”
James knew by now about my brother’s addiction. I’d had to talk to someone, and Henry had given me permission to tell James, on the strict proviso that it stayed between us. “There’s not much new with me. The hotel is doing as well as can be expected. And Henry is fine. He’s still in therapy. But he’s pretty stressed about my dad’s trial coming up.” Just like the rest of us.
“I bet. But he’s still with Kate?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t know much about Kate. Only that she used to be homeless, which people had been up in arms about for quite a while. But no one cared about that anymore. Most scandals blew over faster than rain clouds. Except for the drama surrounding my dad—that never seemed to get old.
“No offence, but your brother’s taste in women really leaves something to be desired. I mean, he could have had my sister.”
I shot James a pointed look. “People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
“What are you saying?”
“Georgina, Beth, Samantha, Vanessa . . .” I rattled off the names of just a few of his recent conquests. I had nothing against them, and I was sure they were amazing women—but all of them happened to be old enough to be James’s mother.
He tutted. “You’re one to talk. When was the last time you got laid? Two months ago? Jessie told Nate that she messaged you the other day and you never replied.”
“I wasn’t in the mood.”
James shot me a sidelong are-you-kidding-me look. “You weren’t in the mood for a lingerie model? I thought you had a good time with her. You ditched me and the lads for her at the Pearl Gala, after all.”
“There are more important things than sex.”
