Under staffed and well and truly fucked!
“Well thanks, I appreciate it nonetheless.”
I immediately set about my mundane tasks and served a family of four in the far corner, taking them their drinks and checking on another nearby party.
“Is everything okay with your food?” I asked, finishing my rehearsed speech off with a blinding smile.
“Brilliant, can’t fault it, love,” replied the Father, or who I assumed was the Father.
I offered the entire table my biggest grin and returned to the front, seeing a new customer waiting for a take-out option.
“How can I help you, sir?” I asked, faltering ever so slightly when his gaze reached mine.
The rather questionable looking gent who, dare I say, needed to invest in some subtlety stared at me with such power and intimidation, I almost cowered away. With a receding hairline that would suggest he’d be bald in a matter of months and yellowing teeth that would give any chain-smoker a run for his money, I placed him at roughly forty five and someone not to be messed with. His steel grey gaze and matching neck tattoos were unsettling to say the least, and whilst it was considered normal to encounter a variety of different people working in hospitality, something about this man had me chilled to the core.
“Maya, what a pretty name,” he rasped, taking it upon himself to read my name tag, which just so happened to be situated on my left breast.
“Thank you,” I smiled, hoping to catch his order soon, so that I could send him on his way. “What can I get you?”
“Coffee. Black.”
Yellow teeth, makes sense.
“No problem, that’ll be £2.75 please,” I informed, thankful for his decision to pay by card, meaning no physical contact needed to be made.
He did, however, stare at me the entire time I brewed his coffee. I attempted to ignore his efforts, but couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease around him.
“Here you go,” I stated, presenting him his take-out cup. “Have a lovely day.”
“You too, Maya,” he smirked, turning his back on me.
I settled once I saw him disappear out of view; his lingering presence certainly troubling to say the least. It was ridiculous to have been that affected, given I encountered strange people at work on a daily basis, but the way in which he smirked whilst saying my name- like he knew something I didn’t- it was unsettling.
Thankfully, work didn’t allow for me to dwell over it for too long, as soon to take my attention were the demands of the many customers scattered around, all either wanting food or to pay their bill.
Waitressing was hard and at the best of times, not very rewarding. It was full of bossy people who lived by the motto, ‘The customer is always right’ and even though not always the case, Billy was constantly drilling it into us. I had always been a patient person but as the weeks turned into months, I was slowly starting to lose my cool. My decision to accept this job was prompted by the insistence that it was only ever supposed to have been temporary, yet four months had crept by and I was inundated by creepy men who complimented me on my name.
Give me a goddamn break!
Keen to demolish my lingering thoughts, I set about cleaning the counter top in the hopes it relaxed me and became momentarily distracted when my phone vibrated, alerting me of Luke’s reply. I subtly pulled it out and smiled at the thought of seeing my best friend later, knowing he would turn my odd day into a great one.
I laughed.
I clicked send and dumped this morning’s rubbish in the bins out back, once again enjoying the fresh air.
The bloody cheek!
I replied.
What the hell was I doing? Sure, it seemed best to joke about it, but to what extent were we taking things too lightly? And was I flirting with my best friend?
I barely waited two seconds before another text came barrelling through.
Oh, bloody hell!
I found myself smiling at his words; the harsh reality of the situation eventually hitting home. This was all it could ever be. Harmless fun and cheeky texting. It had to be, because the second we took things further, we were essentially ending our nineteen year-long friendship and I simply wouldn’t allow that to happen.
I made my way back inside and found four steaming hot plates in need of being taken to table seven, which I quickly saw to on a smiling face. Back behind the counter, I had my reply waiting for me in the form of five very satisfying words, each one significant in meaning.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
CHAPTER NINE
Date Night
"I wanted sophisticated with a hint of sexiness, but this dress just screams desperate," moaned Sasha, glaring at her reflection in the full-length mirror as though the sight itself was a direct insult to her.
Situated in the far corner of her bedroom, she had been mindlessly plucking outfit after outfit from her wardrobe for what felt like hours. She finally managed to squeeze herself into a tiny black dress, though it appeared her generous bust was having none of it. It fit her perfectly around the waist but with her 34 DD’s pushed up to the extreme, I simply couldn’t look away.
“It’s certainly eye-catching,” I smirked, flicking through a few hangers, though why, I had no idea.
Everything I’d suggested so far was either too sweet or met with an outraged declaration of “Fucking hell, Maya. I’m dating a sexy barman, not a Catholic priest.”
Needless to say, I was better off saying nothing.
“I really don’t wanna throw it away. This dress cost me a fortune back in the day,” she sighed, pealing the lace material off of her body.
With a bronzed complexion that gave off a healthy glow and beautiful curves that came together in an hourglass shape, Sasha really did possess the body of a Greek goddess and had just the right amount of sass to accompany it. Never shying away from the well-known saying, ‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it’, she knew exactly what to wear and when to wear it.
"Give it to charity then? That way it’s not going to waste," I offered, mindlessly picking at my chipped nail varnish.
I could almost hear my Mother’s voice in the back of my mind, chastising me for my lack of interest towards my appearance. Not only was my nail varnish flaking away but I had very limited time between finishing work and having to help Sasha with her preparations, so it was a simple case of jogger bottoms and an oversized T-shirt.
"You can have it if you like? It’ll fit you better anyway," she suggested, enthusiastically referencing my lack of chest. “Plus, this way it won’t go to a complete stranger. It’ll be like keeping it in the family.”
"Christ, it's a dress, Sash. Not a family heirloom," I mocked, pulling on the slim fitted number.
It was cool to the touch and if such a thing were to exist when describing a texture; sexy.
"You say that but this dress is like a baby to me. It's proved beneficial on more than one occasion and never fails in getting me laid," she defended, as if somehow that would help in her argument.
"Are you deliberately trying to put me off? Because admitting it’s sexually stained isn’t helping," I stated, serious as ever in my utmost protests. “If I put this on, I’ll be surrounded by goodness knows what questionable juices!” I continued, becoming more and more outraged by the idea.
Sasha proceeded to piss herself at my mild mortification, which prompted a friendly, "fuck you!" to be thrown in to the mix. Afterwards, I thanked
her for her generosity.
It’s not every day you get a free dress!
“Maybe if I decide on shoes first and work my way backwards?” she suggested, more for herself than anything else.
Just then, the buzzer to our flat sounded and knowing it was likely Luke, I jumped up from my place on her bed and set about making my way towards the front door.
“Hello?”
“May I please enter the Crofton/ Roberts lair?” spoke Luke, adopting a rather gentlemanly tone.
“You may,” I replied, buzzing him in.
Within seconds, he was up and presenting me with our evening's supply of red wine and chocolate; ever the pleaser when it came to sugary snacks. He knew what Sasha was like and was often providing me with all sorts of unhealthy treats whenever she wasn’t looking.
“Good day at work?” he asked, slipping out of his leather jacket.
Today’s outfit consisted of black jeans and a white T-shirt; the flimsy material proving useless in hiding his lean muscles and sexy structure.
“It was fine. I was only there for the lunch switch. What you been up to?” I questioned, placing the chocolate in the fridge and resting the wine on the kitchen counter.
“Nothing much. I Skyped Dad and Ali.”
“Oh yeah? How they both doing?” I enquired, taking a genuine interest in Luke’s family.
“Fine. Same old, really. Kyle asked Dad for permission to propose,” he revealed, instantly grabbing my attention.
“No way! When’s he gonna ask?” I cried, already over the moon for Luke’s little sister.
Kyle was her long term boyfriend and was in the same year as Luke and me at school; the three of us often sharing classes together. We weren’t in the same friendship circle back then, but when we were eighteen and Ali was sixteen, Kyle had approached Luke one day and asked if him taking Ali out would be okay. I remember thinking it must have taken some balls to initiate such a conversation and my respect for Kyle had increased massively after that, alongside my fondness for him.
“Not sure. Soon, I reckon,” he answered, momentarily distracted by Sasha’s presence by the kitchen door.
“Oh good, you’re here. I need a man’s honest opinion. Would you want to sleep with me in this?” she asked, gesturing towards her green dress.
The velvet number accentuated her bright red hair and suited her down to a T. It wasn’t too revealing either, which just about offered up some of that sophistication she was chatting about earlier.
“Erm…I’m not sure if that’s a trick question or not?” laughed Luke, awkwardly catching my eye.
“No trick question. I just need to know if you would,” she insisted, looking at him with hopeful eyes.
The entire ordeal proved rather tense and I found myself hoping Luke didn’t agree to her question.
Was I jealous?
“You look beautiful. Go with that and I’m sure Jace will be falling at your feet,” he smiled, rather cleverly answering, without actually answering.
“Yeah, I agree. It’s really nice!” I inputted, relieved when she happily nodded in response.
“Oh god, why am I this nervous?” she laughed, toying with her stud earrings. “This is your fault, Maya. If you hadn’t given him my business card-”
“If I hadn’t given him your business card, you’d be sat in all night watching shit films with Luke and me, whilst lecturing us on the over consumption of chocolate,” I told her, bracing a hand on each of her shoulders. “Relax. Have you perfumed?” I then asked, knowing she always forgot.
“Shit! No, I haven’t,” she shrieked, flying back into her bedroom.
Luke and I shared a knowing look, far too amused, and proceeded to crack open the wine; figuring it was 5 O’clock somewhere.
“Cheers!”
~~~
I somehow became entwined with Luke on the living room sofa; our eyes set firmly on the sad scene playing out before us. We began watching Moulin Rouge and were currently at the bit when Ewan McGregor finds out Nicole Kidman is about to kick the bucket. It was always a bittersweet moment for me, because they could finally be together, but she goes ahead a dies instead.
Selfish bitch!
“Are you crying?” asked Luke, likely sensing my body’s subtle tremors.
“No,” I ensured, lying through my teeth.
He laughed at my insistence to remain tough and simply pulled me closer to his body, whispering a soft, “I’ll never let go, Jack,” in my ear when Santine finally did take her last breath.
“That’s not even the right film!” I outraged, shoving at his upper arm in an attempt to appear strong.
“Christ, you’re a mess, Crofton,” he chuckled, seeing my tears and wiping at the wetness. “Come here,” he then encouraged, cuddling into me like I so very much needed.
“It’s not fair. Why couldn’t they just be together?” I sobbed, understanding how truly ridiculous I was being.
“Because life’s a bitch,” he replied, calmly taking my head in between his hands. “And we don’t always get what we want.”
His eyes searched mine for a reaction, but I didn’t dare offer him one, fearful of how it would be perceived. I knew he was no longer talking about the film. I had been optimistic that no awkwardness had occurred between us, but it seemed that luck was about to end.
“Luke…” I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder.
The tension between us grew to a thickening extent; his laboured breath and gentle caress on my back the only action to have taken place.
“I wonder if Sasha’s having a good time?” he threw out, having felt the need to do so after a few moments of silence.
“I bet she is,” I replied, grateful for the subject change and clinging onto it for dear life. “He’s taking her to some healthy eating place in Soho. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came back tonight and declared her love for the man,” I laughed, knowing Sasha only too well.
“You’re probably right,” he smiled, no longer touching me. “Oh actually, that reminds me. I got the menu through for the awards ceremony in a few weeks’ time. You have to choose what you want beforehand,” he informed, reaching for more wine.
“Oh really? What are the options?” I asked, growing intrigued.
Luke was having an award ceremony at work, which was an extravagant event being held in the Lake District. According to Google research, it was an annual celebration that the company took full responsibility for. Every year, they hired a venue somewhere in Cumbria and stuffed themselves silly with posh food and extortionate champagne. If successful, Luke would be offered permanent employment, and I absolutely had to be there when he beat all the other interns by bagging himself the position over them.
We’d both been excited to discover it was taking place near Windermere and had even booked ourselves into a quaint B&B for the following night, hoping to get in a little sight-seeing before returning to London. In a way, we were treating this as a mini holiday, seeing as we had no other get-away planned this year. He’d asked me to be his plus one months ago and eager to take advantage of an all-expense paid trip, I had agreed to tag along.
“I can’t remember off the top of my head, but I think it was garlic chicken or rosemary beef.”
“They both sound amazing.” I gushed; mouth watering at just the thought.
“I know. A couple of them are getting the train up but I’m just gonna drive. That way we can enjoy the rest of our weekend there,” he explained, planning ahead.
“Sounds good. I’ll have to buy a posh dress, won’t I?” I smiled, firing up my laptop to check for any deals on boohoo.com.
It loaded quickly and before I knew it, dresses of the various sort were flashing before me, tempting me with their sheer beauty.
“I like that one,” stated Luke, pointing his finger at a rather flattering maroon number.
“It’s nice but it’s backless and I can’t do backless.”
“Why not?”
“You need to have boobs for
it. I don’t have any,” I moaned, thinking a dress like that would hang in all the wrong places.
“Yes you do!” insisted Luke, just short of catching himself.
His eyes grew wide in utter horror; the reality of his words and the meaning behind them truly sending him into a fit of panic. I stared at him for a while; blush growing by the second, before rather widely cracking him a smile.
“I suppose you would know,” I laughed.
Thankfully, he joined in and although nervous at first, he soon let loose and chuckled alongside me.
“For what it’s worth, they’re very nice,” he smirked, nudging my arm.
“Only nice?”
“Fine, they’re fantastic!” he insisted, ever the dramatic. “Nicest pair of tits I’ve ever seen!”
“Aren’t you romantic,” I responded, grinning at our ability to remain light-hearted.
We continued smiling at each other; no more needing to be said on the matter, which in a way, made things a lot easier. It also shifted some of the tension from earlier. All day, I had doubted my decision to reject Luke’s suggestion of sleeping together again. My desires were still hidden deep within, but I could honestly say I didn’t regret it. Our friendship was much more important than our need to be intimate again, and if that meant locking away my true feelings, so be it.
CHAPTER TEN
Informal Visits
Whilst walking through the double glass doors, carrier bag in hand and sticking out like a sore thumb, I made my way over to the reception desk, eyeing the very petite brunette currently sat with a welcoming smile.
"Hi, how can I help?" she asked; housing a honeyed voice.
Her brown, almost black eyes sparkled against the sun's natural lighting, and in a white dress that did wonders for her curvy figure, I momentarily wondered if she was subject to a lot of attention, working at such a heavily male employed firm.
My Not So One Night Stand Page 7