Tables Turned- Prologue

When the phone rang, he almost didn’t hear it.

The music was pumping, the bodies were jumping, and the alcohol was flowing, all at a pace that would make a normal man’s head spin.  It was only by chance that he happened to be passing the table that the device rested on.  He picked it up on the fifth ring, just before the answering machine had a chance to pick the call up.   “Yo,” he said, his head still bopping to the music as he took a sip of his drink. 

“Hey, you.”

He smiled into the phone after hearing her voice.  “Hey yourself.”

He grinned as he heard her chuckle from her end of the phone conversation.  Balancing the cordless phone between his shoulder and ear, he eased himself into his leather armchair, taking a sip of his beer as he sat down.

“So?  How goes it in the life of the rich and oh-so famous?”

He laughed.  If he didn’t already know who it was, he would’ve been able to figure it out by that reliable mixture of condescending/ teasing/ amused/ and yet utterly disdained tone of her voice.  “ ‘It goes’ just fine.”  His eyes scanned his apartment as the words left his mouth, taking in the sight of about 50 beautiful people, all of whom were enjoying themselves partying, drinking, dancing, and -in the case of the couple huddled up in the corner- getting their freak on.  Yes, just fine indeed.  

“Glad to hear it.”

He nodded his head to the beat of the music blasting from the surround sound stereo equipment in the corner.  “So, to what exactly do I owe this wonderful call from a wonderful girl?”  He let the slightest trace of their teasing nature creep into his voice.

He heard her snicker good-naturedly.  “Save it for someone who isn’t prone to your deviously irresistible ways, Bowers.”

He grinned at that.  God, it was good to hear from her.  “Yeah, I guess I should.”  He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the scene in front of him again.  “Seriously though, what’s up?  I haven’t heard from you since you left in July.”

“Yeah…I know.  Sorry ‘bout that.  Been busy.  I’ve decided that Oxford is highly over-rated.  I can’t even remember the last time I got a full night of sleep.  No rest for the weary, right?” 

Before he could answer her, one of the girls at the party came up to him, oblivious of the fact that he was in the middle of something.  She hooked a drunken arm around his neck, planting her scantily clad self firmly on his lap.  “Come on, Patrick.  Let’s leave.  I know a place where we can have our own private little get-together.” She said.  He thought her name was Rachael, but he couldn’t be sure.

“But then again, I guess there’s no rest for the ‘multi-platinum selling’ recording artists either, huh?”  He was brought back into his phone conversation by the sound of her voice.  He didn’t even want to think about what must be going through her mind.

“Maura, listen-”

She cut him off before he could say anymore.  “No, Pat, it’s okay!  Forget about it, I don’t mind.  Look, I didn’t call you just so we could get into an argument about the stupid girls you date,” he rolled his eyes at her constant ability to undermine him even while trying to patch things over “…. what I did call you for, however, was to ask you for a favour.”

This caught his attention.  It wasn’t often that the Miss High-and-Mighty Maura Abbot asked for favours.  He gently pushed Rachael- or was it Rebecca?- off of his lap and made his way over to kitchen, dodging partiers on his way.  “Oh?  And what favour is this?”

“I…..I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to get it out. I need a place to crash.”

Whatever he had expected, he hadn’t expected this.  The bottle of beer paused on its way to his lips at her words.  It took him a moment to recover from the shock before the elation kicked in.  “Maura, you can stay anytime.  Seriously, I’d love it.  Life’s been kind of slow now that we’re not on tour.”

Just then a loud crash was heard in the living room, followed by an onslaught of drunken laughter mixed in with the already loud music pumping from the speakers.  Maura laughed.  “Yeah, I can hear just how ‘slow’ things must be.”

He eyed the phone sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head.  “Well, you know how it is.  Everything seems slow without you.”

“Aww, is that Patrick Bowers?  Being romantic?  How cute!  Oh wait!  Did I say cute?  My bad, what I meant to say was how incredibly nauseating!”

“Haha.  You laugh now, but I’ll have you know that millions of girls all over Europe find my romantic self absolutely riveting.”

She sighed.  “Yes, I know.  It’s all very sad, really.  One would think that they would have better taste.”

“Haha.”

“You really need to start working on a better comeback, Bowers.”

“You’re right.  But without you here, I’ve kind of been out of practice.  So, when exactly can you be here to get me back into my sparring-mode?”

“I’m leaving Oxford tomorrow night.  Should be back in London bright and early Sunday morning.”

He smiled.  He really had been missing her.  It would be great to see her again.  “Can’t wait.”

“I know.  Look, I got to go now, okay?  My roommate is being a complete twat.  Thanks for everything, Pat.  I mean it.  Love you.”

 “Love you too.  Bye.”  He clicked the off button on the phone and looked up, only to find his band mate David standing there.  “Hey Dave,” he said to his friend.  “Everything going okay?” 

 David nodded his head and smiled, his eyes betraying his curiosity.  “Yeah, the party’s slammin’” he paused before speaking again.  “Who’s that you were talking to?  On the phone I mean.”

Patrick finished off his drink and set the bottle on the kitchen counter before making his way over to the refrigerator.  “That, my friend, was non other than Miss Maura Leigh Abbot.”  He opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water, unscrewing the lid to take a large gulp.

“Oh.  She an old girlfriend or something?”

Patrick spit out the water at his words.  “Maura?  An old girlfriend?  You’ve got to be kidding me?!”  his tone was disbelieving and indignant.  His laughter, however, showed just how hilarious he found the whole question.

David eyes his friend, confused at his reaction.  “I don’t get it.”

Patrick rolled his eyes.  “No, I don’t suppose you would.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.  “Maura is one of my oldest and dearest friends.  I’ve known her since we were little.”  His eyes seemed to loose some of their light then, as if he was remembering a long lost memory.  “She was like my sister.” He added quietly.

David eyed him skeptically.  For some reason he suspected that there was more to their relationship than Patrick was letting on.  “Oh?  So you guys never hooked up?”

“Nah.” Patrick said, pushing himself off the counter.  He started to make his way towards the livingroom.  “We were never each other’s type.”

Though he spoke with the outmost sincerity, David didn’t quite believe him.  He watched his friend’s retreating back as he walked away, convinced that he wasn’t telling all there was to be told about him and this Maura Abbot.