Love on the Rocks (Bar Tenders)

by Melanie Tushmore

  That would be good. Better than good. Justin didn’t want to admit to anyone that he’d dreamt about it, booze-laden dreams full of heavy kissing and passionate fucking. Seemed his mind had been determined to make up for the fact that Justin’s body hadn’t gotten laid that night.

  Was it worth another go? Sure, he’d been turned down before, and normally he’d be feeling the urge to move on to someone new by now. Instead he was daydreaming over the bartender from Saturday night.

  Which was ridiculous.

  Justin moved in the wrong direction and knocked into Tam. “Justin!” Tam grabbed his shoulders and swiveled him around. “Left, Justin! Left, for fuck’s sake!”

  “Sorry, sorry!” Justin hurried stage left.

  Maybe he should just forget about it altogether, forget about Yena.

  Chapter Three

  JUSTIN BRACED himself. He stood at the top of the small street in Soho that led down to Foxy’s cocktail bar. He was beginning to feel like a fool. Since meeting Yena on that Saturday nearly two weeks ago, he’d already been back to Foxy’s once, last Thursday night, as he hadn’t been working.

  Neither had Yena; his absence from the bar had been incredibly annoying. Eric hadn’t been there either, so Justin had had one drink by himself, asking a member of staff for details of the venue upstairs, as a way to pretend he wasn’t really just stalking one of their bar staff.

  So embarrassing.

  Now he was back again, ready for another round of embarrassment, served hot. His better sense demanded that he call it a night and go home, spend his night off rehearsing the routine Tam had worked so hard on. They hadn’t been able to debut Ooh La La last week because Justin couldn’t concentrate. Tam wanted to try for the coming weekend instead.

  Go home and rehearse, Justin. This is beyond ridiculous.

  His feet walked him to Foxy’s. Oh, well. Here we go. Justin’s heart picked up as he rounded the corner. Almost there.

  As Foxy’s loomed into view, he took a deep breath, telling himself he could do this, he could. Justin went to open the door and almost smacked into it. The heavy, glass-plated door was locked.

  Oh.

  Justin definitely felt like a fool. He checked his watch. Nearly four o’clock. What time did they open?

  The sound of keys being turned in the lock and the door opening was his answer. Justin moved aside, but whoever opened it was aware he was on the other side, and opened it carefully. Yena stood there, looking lovely in his form-fitting black shirt, open low at the collar. In the daylight, Justin saw his skin was indeed a rich tan, making him look even more delicious than Justin remembered.

  An amused smile was on his lips. “Justin, right? Did you want a job, or something? No one’s this eager to get in before we open.”

  “Hah!” Justin barely held back his nervous laugh. “I’m good for a job, thanks all the same.”

  “Just eager for cocktails?”

  “Er, yeah.”

  The smile stayed on Yena’s face as he opened the other door. “Well, do me a favor while you’re here. Hook that door back, please?”

  “Sure thing.” Justin helped secure the doors and followed Yena inside. The place was empty and music pulsed quietly through the venue. “Er, am I the first person in?”

  “Yes.” Yena smiled again before escaping behind his bar, putting an obstacle between them, Justin noted. “It’ll fill up soon. Did you want a drink?”

  “Umm, well….” Justin’s heart began thudding. If they were alone, now was a perfect time to do this. He didn’t want to hang around, especially if Yena’s colleagues would be appearing soon. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Oh?”

  Yena stood in front of him, but far enough away that Justin felt the need to step closer to the bar. He tapped his fingers on the polished wood and addressed the bar mats as he said, “Umm, I… that is, sober Justin would like to ask you on a date… er, of your choice. I mean, you would pick what we do, or where we go. So….” His face was rapidly heating, so Justin added quickly, “Say yes, ’cause I don’t do this very often.” He risked a glance up, nervous because Yena was staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Er, shall I take your silence as yes, or…?”

  Yena seemed to snap out of his shock, and he let out a brief laugh. He didn’t sound particularly amused. “Why?” he asked. “You know I won’t sleep with you on the first date, right?”

  In his nervous state, Justin instinctively tried for charm, flashing a winning smile. “How many dates will it take, then?”

  An incredulous look passed over Yena’s pretty face, and then he shook his head and made to turn away. “You don’t get it,” he said quietly, picking up a tray of glasses. “There’s no guarantee. It doesn’t work like that.”

  He walked away, but Justin followed him along the bar. “I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was just a joke.”

  The look Yena flashed him prompted Justin’s next question.

  “Are you actually single?”

  Yena laughed and stooped to deliver his tray to a glass washer. He slammed the door shut and kept his back to Justin as he started the machine. “I’m sure you’re rolling in offers, Justin. Why don’t you ask someone else out?”

  Justin pressed on, leaning over the bar. “If you’re single, come on a date with me. I get it, I do. I was only kidding before. Let’s just hang out. No guarantees, no expectations. Just a date. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

  “Oh?” Yena turned to look at him. “You’re very sure of yourself.”

  “And you’re very stubborn,” Justin shot back, though he softened it with a smile. “Come on. Say yes. Don’t leave me hanging. At the very least you’ll get a free dinner out of me.”

  This brought a smile to Yena’s face. “Take-aways don’t count.”

  “I wasn’t even thinking a take-away,” Justin defended, “but now you mention it….”

  “No take-aways.”

  “Kidding! Joke.” Justin grinned wider, sensing victory. “That’s why I said your choice. Choose anything you want. Er,” he added swiftly, “within my budget range, of course. Considering I near bankrupted myself drinking in here last time.”

  “Why spend so much if you couldn’t afford it?”

  “I was trying to talk to you,” Justin admitted.

  Yena’s smile grew. A door opened, interrupting their moment, and Eric waltzed in carrying the till drawers. He noticed Justin and smiled at him. “Hello,” he said, dropping the drawers down and slamming the tills shut. He turned to Justin with a flourish and looked him up and down, or as best he could with the bar between them. “You were in the other week, weren’t you?”

  “Er, yeah.” Justin tried not to be distracted by Eric’s extreme hotness. In the better light, Eric looked drop-dead gorgeous, the sort of stuff Scandinavian supermodels were honed from: features chiseled from hard marble, skin like porcelain, and hair so beautifully styled it could’ve had its own fashion show. Not to mention the buff bod.

  So hot.

  “You sticking around for a drink?” Eric asked, voice laced with innuendo.

  Justin broke eye contact with Eric, looking back to Yena. A moment ago, Yena had been smiling with him. Now, all expression had been wiped from his face, like he’d shut down. He was fiddling with some glasses, pretending to be busy.

  Justin wouldn’t be swayed, even though Eric was super-hot. He already knew what the outcome would be if they hooked up: quick and meaningless fun. For some reason, Justin wasn’t really in the mood for that. Not with Eric.

  Besides, he’d always preferred brunets.

  “Actually,” he said slowly, making his words very clear. “I just popped in to ask Yena out on a date.”

  Yena glanced up in surprise. Eric stared at Yena, equally as surprised, then scoffed, “You’re asking him out?”

  Irritation flared in Justin, and he frowned at Eric like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. Yena turned away, and for a panick
ed moment Justin thought he’d blown it. Then Yena stepped back to the bar, pen in hand, and scribbled something on a slip of paper.

  “Here.” He slid the paper across the bar.

  A phone number. His phone number, it must be. Justin snatched it up, grinning wide. “I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

  Yena didn’t answer, only smiled at him in reply, while Eric looked on in astonishment.

  Justin edged away, eager to leave soon while he was on a winning streak. “Cool. I’ll text you.” He waved good-bye and hurried from the bar. He clutched his prize in his hand and couldn’t stop from smiling to himself.

  Score one to Justin.

  JUSTIN HAD never been terribly good at waiting. That was why he preferred being late, knowing that whoever he was meeting would already be there, waiting for him. Tonight, he didn’t want to take that risk. He didn’t want to give Yena any reason to doubt he was coming, so Justin had shown up at Embankment tube station, their designated meeting spot, a whole fifteen minutes early.

  It was practically unheard of in Justin-land.

  As he waited, fretting, growing ever more nervous as he watched people streaming out from the tube gates, he resolved not to be so early again. Was Yena even coming? Justin checked his phone. Five minutes past eight. No messages.

  Butterflies formed in Justin’s stomach. He wasn’t being stood up, was he?

  Then he spotted Yena coming through the barriers. The dark head of curls stood out, as did the perfectly fitting black leather jacket. Justin cursed his own choice of clothes; he should’ve gone with his leather, not the stone-washed denim jacket he currently wore. Too late now.

  Yena spotted him, and Justin waved, and then felt stupid.

  Be cool. I’m the epitome of cool.

  Smiling as he approached, Yena didn’t quite look him in the eye. “Hello.”

  “Hi. How are you?” Justin asked.

  “Good.” Yena pulled out a packet of cigarettes. “And you?”

  “Great!” Justin said, a little shrill. Nerves had strangled his voice, apparently. He cleared his throat. “Shall we, umm…?”

  “Sure.” They exited the tube station together and walked to the steps of the Hungerford foot bridge, which was just outside.

  “Gimme a sec,” Yena said. “Let me light up first.” He took a moment lighting his cigarette while Justin waited. Lucky there wasn’t much of a wind. It was a nice night; warm and still light. The sky was only just starting to dim.

  The walk across the bridge could’ve been romantic, at least in Justin’s mind, had it not been for the loud Caribbean buskers and one too many business types power-walking past everyone in a bid to get home.

  London.

  Conversation was a bit stilted, due to the noise and having to move out the way for people every two seconds. Finally, when they reached the other side, Justin led the way down the steps and onto the south bank. He’d already booked the table; he wasn’t taking any chances. They walked past restaurant after restaurant, most with outdoor seating, some with flaming heaters to keep the punters warm, like being at a barbeque.

  While the view of the river nearby was nice, Justin wasn’t a fan of sitting outside. He didn’t want to get smogged from smokers. When they reached their restaurant, he was relieved to be told their table was inside. Hooray!

  They were seated quickly, and Justin watched Yena shed his jacket. He wore a close-fitting t-shirt underneath, very different from his shirt at the bar. Justin liked the look of his slim body already. Yena glanced at him, and Justin averted his eyes, shrugging off his own jacket. He’d worn a semi-smart shirt in dark blue, because people had told him blue brought out his eyes. He’d wanted to impress. Now he felt overdressed.

  Justin gazed around the restaurant, taking in the inoffensive décor. He would’ve liked to take Yena somewhere more exciting, but this had been Yena’s suggestion, and Justin went along with it.

  The place was all right, just… nothing spectacular. On the plus side, he knew the prices wouldn’t break his bank. The music wasn’t overbearing, and there weren’t any screaming kids about, just people chatting.

  A waitress swished in, beaming a smile and poking menus in front of them. Justin was still building up the courage to say something, so he pretended to read his menu. When Yena looked at his, Justin sneaked a glance. Pouty lips. Bet they’re great to kiss.

  “Do you drink wine?” Yena asked.

  Justin blinked, processing the question. “Umm, sure. You want to share a bottle?”

  Yena’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t thinking a whole bottle, but maybe that would be cheaper.”

  “I’m easy,” Justin said, and then winced. He flicked his menu up to hide his face before Yena caught him trying not to laugh.

  Apparently, nerves were doing a number on him tonight. Alcohol would be good.

  “Okay. You good with white?”

  Uh-oh. “I’m great with white.” Not really.

  Truthfully, Justin wasn’t great with any wine, but he didn’t want to be awkward. When the waitress reappeared, they ordered a bottle of Pinot, then went back to perusing the menus.

  They hadn’t managed to say a whole lot yet, Justin thought. Laying his menu flat on the table, he leaned in, trying to get things started. “You fancy only a main course, or a starter first?”

  Yena looked up at him with those pretty, dark eyes. “What do you want?”

  “I’m….” He only just stopped himself blurting out easy. “I don’t mind,” Justin said. “I am pretty hungry, but if you don’t want a starter I could get a side dish of something.”

  “Let’s do that, then,” Yena said.

  “Okay.”

  A few minutes later, their wine arrived, and they put in their orders. Yena was having the spaghetti carbonara, and Justin ordered the goat’s cheese salad, with side plates of bruschetta and olives.

  Justin didn’t eat out that often, and whenever he did, he panicked that he wouldn’t get enough food, so he always over ordered. He hoped Yena wouldn’t think he was being greedy.

  Drink, Justin.

  The wine was actually quite nice. Justin hadn’t drunk wine for a while. He mentioned a cabaret performer he knew who sang a song about cheap white wine. Yena nodded politely. Justin panicked, and his brain scrabbled for another topic of conversation. “You been here before?” Justin asked. That’s pathetic.

  “I’ve been here a couple of times,” Yena said. “Prices are a little higher than normal.”

  “Yeah, ’cause we’re in prime locale, innit.” Justin chuckled, still nervous. When he was nervous, his words suffered from a severe case of slang. He took another sip of wine, glancing over at the other diners. Was anyone else struggling on their first date? No? Just them, then.

  “You, umm… were you working today?”

  “No, we don’t open ’til four,” Yena reminded him. “Would’ve been a short shift.”

  “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Justin risked a glance at him. “We open at midday some days, so sometimes I get day shifts. Not always, though. I’d rather work later so I can sleep in.”

  Stop babbling, Justin.

  Yena smiled absently, seemingly more interested in his glass of wine.

  As the conversation ground to a halt, Justin felt unwelcome twinges of paranoia tug at him.

  Nerves made him ask, “So, I’m guessing you only said yes to this date to get one over on Eric?”

  Yena looked up with a start, and then avoided eye contact.

  I’m right. Although Justin wished he wasn’t.

  “Well, no,” Yena said quietly. “It wasn’t the only reason.” He fiddled with his glass, and a wry smile curved his lips. “Although, he has been put out by it, yes.”

  “Seriously?” Justin asked. He couldn’t believe Eric would be that bothered; he’d hardly spoken to the man.

  Yena shrugged. “He doesn’t like anyone else getting something he can’t.” Taking a sip of wine, he added, “Especially me.”

  “Oh…. Oh
, right.” Justin nodded. That made more sense, and confirmed his suspicions. “Does he cockblock you a lot?”

  Another look of alarm, followed by a flat laugh. “You noticed.”

  “Yeah, you could say that. Did you guys… have a thing, or…?”

  Yena took a moment to respond, and Justin found himself holding his breath. “Sure,” Yena said. “If you could call it a thing. We dated briefly, and he shagged around and didn’t tell me. I’d only just started working at Foxy’s, and I should’ve known better. Eric isn’t exclusive with anyone.”

  Justin nodded, taking it all in. Wow. “Er, right. So… when was this?”

  “Few months ago,” Yena muttered. “Last year, actually.”

  “Ah, right.” Wow, again. Part of him wanted to say something flippant like, time to get over it, then, but he kept quiet. Unexpectedly, it brought back memories of his own workplace affair. It certainly hadn’t been easygoing.

  “I, umm….” Justin cleared his throat. “If it’s any consolation, I kinda slept with my boss at my last job. That’s mostly why I moved up here, to London. Fresh start, you know?”

  “He’s not my boss,” Yena said quickly. “He’s only a supervisor. Hopefully he’ll be getting a transfer soon, moving to another bar. I can’t bloody wait. I just feel sorry for the new staff who’ll have to put up with him.”

  Justin edged back in his seat, feeling like he wanted to hide under the table after that outburst. “Er, right…. Yeah.” He grabbed his drink and gulped down some wine. Bite my head off.

  Yena sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. Talking about Eric just… puts me in a bad mood.”

  You don’t say. Justin braved a smile and was pleased to see a tentative one in return. “Well,” he ventured, “I’m willing to offer myself to you for a revenge shag. If you want to, that is. Get another one over on Eric.”