Page 21 of Ethan & Grace

Rose pulled me through a thick throng of clubbers to one of the bars, where we were lucky enough to grab two stools. We ordered cocktails, which the barkeeper slid down the bar to us.

“To a fun evening,” Rose toasted. The music was so loud that she had to yell, even though we were sitting right next to each other.

“To a fun evening,” I echoed, trying to match her enthusiasm. We clinked glasses, and I took a sip of my mai tai. It was tasty but strong. “Phew, I’d better not drink too much of this.”

Rose gave a little cough. “Yeah, this really packs a punch. Do you want to try?”

We swapped drinks. Rose’s cocktail was even stronger than mine, though at these exorbitant prices, making the alcohol count was the least they could do. We’d paid sixty pounds for two drinks, and I could already tell that this would be our first and last time at this club. It was clearly not for people like me and Rose; it was for the likes of Ethan Darlington and his friends. They would probably order the most expensive bottle of champagne just on principle—and then leave it half finished.

“Where’s Kate tonight?” Rose asked.

“She’s at some event with her boss, sweet-talking people from the planning office,” I said, passing back her cocktail. “Hope Harbour submitted plans for a new homeless shelter for women, and they’re pushing for fast approval so they can get going with the construction.”

“That’s a good reason to ditch us.”

“Definitely,” I agreed, my chest swelling with pride. I was impressed by what Kate had built up in the past few months. Some people were saying that none of it was her own doing and that she owed it all to Henry, but that wasn’t true. He’d only levelled the playing field in an unjust world. It was Kate who had seized the chance. And that didn’t make her achievements any less her own.

“How are things in the kitchen?”

Rose sighed. “I’m worried that Matthieu is going to quit soon.”

Matthieu was head chef at Darlington Dining, the hotel’s restaurant. It served breakfast and lunch to hotel guests and opened its doors to the public in the evening. The food there was as overpriced as the drinks in this club. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s been acting strange lately, and he’s always on the phone. I overheard him talking about money. He’s probably already looking for a new job. If he quits, we’re done for. The restaurant would be lost without him.”

“It won’t be. They’ll find a good replacement.”

“Nobody is as good as Matthieu,” Rose protested. “He holds that kitchen together.” If I hadn’t known better, I might have thought she had a crush on Matthieu, but she admired him on a purely professional level. She worshipped Michelin-star chefs the way other people did rock stars. If there had been posters of them, she doubtless would have them pinned above her bed. “I know at least three people who only still work at Darlington Dining because of him. He’s the best head chef you could imagine.”

“Would you quit?” I asked, a knot suddenly tightening in my stomach. I tried to ease it with another sip of my cocktail. Maybe it was selfish of me, but Amy was dead, my family was ignoring me, and Kate had already quit. I didn’t want Rose leaving too. I felt lost and lonely enough as it was.

“I haven’t quit yet, and I’m not about to just yet,” she said with a reassuring smile, patting my hand as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. “The Darlington pays better than most restaurants, and I still need a few thousand pounds for Kingston. So it’ll be another couple of months before I can afford to leave.”

A couple of months. By that time, maybe I’d have my life back on track enough that I could be genuinely happy for Rose when she left London. Ever since we’d met, she’d talked about going to Kingston Cookery School in Plymouth, down in the southwest of England. A few years ago, she’d come close to making her dream a reality, but then fate had intervened, and her dad was diagnosed with cancer. He was healthy again now, but Rose had used up her savings to support her family, since her dad hadn’t been able to work for a long time.

“Enough about my depressing week. How was yours?” Rose asked.

I raised my eyebrows.

“OK, I get it. Your week was depressing too. But I want to know what’s new. How is it being back at work?”

“It feels good not to be sitting around at home anymore, although my feet will have to get used to it again,” I said, glancing down at my flat shoes and wiggling my toes. “But it’s annoying that everyone treats me like I might fall apart at any moment.”

“They’re just worried about you.”

“Yeah, but there’s no need. I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” I insisted. “I’ve only had one major cry this week, and that was entirely down to people at The Darlington. Did you know they collected money for me?”

“They don’t mean any harm,” Rose said diplomatically. She had probably chipped in herself.

“I know, and I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I just wish things could go back to how they were before. Things are already so weird at home, and now they’re strange at the hotel too. Even Beelzebub is acting differently.”

Rose’s ears pricked up at the mention of Ethan. She knew I never mentioned him in passing. I only brought him up to vent about something he’d done. Only this time, I was more confused than infuriated. “What do you mean?”

“He’s just not behaving like himself,” I replied, not sure how to describe his transformation. “He didn’t invite anyone over to his place all week. I even caught him studying. His flat was always tidy, and . . .”