The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating: A sparkling and hilarious feel good romantic comedy

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The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating: A sparkling and hilarious feel good romantic comedy Page 6

by Nina Kaye


  ‘I can only half agree with that.’ Dylan shakes his head again and returns to the spreadsheet in front of him. ‘Now, mortgage, car payment, mobile contract, you can’t do anything about – they have to be paid. Changing utility supplier won’t save you much… Credit cards – are you on a zero per cent interest deal?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘I hope you are. No one’s gonna give you a new card right now, but write it down for the future.’

  I sigh exasperatedly and make another note. ‘Maybe I should hire you as my accountant when I’m finally earning again.’

  ‘Might not be such a bad shout given the hole you’ve dug for yourself.’ He gives me a playful nudge. ‘You’ve not got a lot of savings, have you?’

  ‘Err… not as much as I thought.’ I redden. ‘Seems I’ve played a little harder than I realised.’

  ‘Not half.’ Dylan looks at the dwindling savings figures on the screen. ‘Liv, I’m sorry to say this, but for a smart girl, you’ve made a right arse of things. I’d have thought, given the upbringing you had – we both had – you’d have been more sensible with money. You were so desperate to leave the estate, and you managed it, reached the high life and all. But you’ve not even set yourself up an “insurance policy” in case things went south. That’s a totally basic error. You could have had about twenty-five grand put away by now, possibly more.’

  It’s like a slap in the face as I realise he’s right. I’ve made a total mess of things; monthly salary frittered away on champagne and lavish meals, bonuses blown on exotic holidays. And what have I got left when I really need it? Nada.

  ‘Dylan, I’m screwed. I’m absolutely screwed. What am I going to do?’ I start to hyperventilate. ‘I’m an idiot.’

  ‘Ssshh, Squirt,’ he soothes while tapping away on Excel, doing some calculations. ‘You’re not totally stuffed yet. You have one final option.’

  ‘What?’ I look at him desperately.

  ‘You’re gonna to have to go suck up to Aaron, and beg for that bar job.’

  I’m horrified. ‘I can’t do that!’

  ‘You can. And you need to.’ Dylan’s tone is soothing but firm. ‘I’ve worked it out. If you work in that bar full-time from next week, and stick to the other budget cuts I’ve suggested, you’ll stay afloat twice as long. It’s that or kiss your apartment, car, everything goodbye. Your choice.’

  I take a deep shaky breath, realising he’s right. Another total humiliation; I may as well have a fluorescent sign over my head saying ‘loser’. I had it all – and worst of all, it’s mostly my own doing. Aaron’s offer is my only way out.

  ‘OK, fine,’ I say. ‘Let’s go to the hotel now. I’ve got some serious damage control to do. And an email’s not going to cut it.’

  Dylan shakes his head in amusement. ‘How do you know he’ll even be in the hotel right now? It was yesterday you met him.’

  ‘I don’t. But he was always around when I worked for him before – bit of a workaholic.’ I shut down my laptop. ‘Oh, one more thing…’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Can we stop at Lidl on the way home?’

  ‘That’s my girl!’ Giving me an affectionate thump on the back that leaves me slightly winded, Dylan leaps off the sofa bed. ‘Let’s go.’

  Chapter 6

  A short time later I’m standing huddled with Dylan under an umbrella in the drizzling rain, directly across the road from the Mayfield Hotel. Having taken a bus from my apartment to the hotel, which is situated on the fringes of the city centre, just into the south side, we’ve been swallowed whole by the Edinburgh rush hour. The passing commuters rush along the pavement on either side of us: keen to get home after a hard day at the office.

  For a few moments, we just take in the hotel’s grand, red sandstone exterior, and row of regal white flag posts sporting the national colours of several countries, boasting the hotel brand’s global reach. Two impeccably dressed porters stand either side of the swanky hotel entrance, and off to the left the hotel chauffeur is standing outside a stretched black limousine, hands behind his back, obviously awaiting the arrival of some wealthy guests. Having stayed in a few luxury hotels over recent years, I’m partial to the beautiful surroundings and the feeling of indulgence and elegance that comes with being a guest.

  What I’m not used to, is being on the other side of the bar. I cringe slightly as I imagine what that will feel like.

  ‘Wowsers.’ Dylan lets out a whistle beside me. ‘This place is bangin’. We going in?’

  ‘Yes… I guess we are.’ I glance at him, then look him up and down. ‘Actually, would you mind waiting here? Or in that sports bar?’ I point along the street.

  ‘Oh, I get it.’ Dylan looks down at his outfit. ‘Too scruffy for this type of establishment, am I?’

  ‘Actually, yes.’ I make no apology. ‘You’re wearing your manky trainers, as you called them earlier, and jeans with holes in them. And don’t even get me started on your T-shirt.’

  ‘It’s statement.’ He looks offended.

  ‘It’s making a statement all right. An obscene one.’

  ‘Fine,’ he grumbles and pushes up his nose with the tip of his finger. ‘I’ll just have to make sure I put on my coat tails when I come to visit you at your work.’

  ‘Ha ha.’ I put on a fake laugh. ‘Now away you go, before I change my mind about this.’

  Dylan skulks off down the street as I take a deep breath and cross the road. The doormen greet me as I approach the entrance; one of them opens the door for me.

  ‘Evening, madam.’ He gives a little half-bow.

  ‘Evening.’ I smile politely, thinking miserably that that’s probably the first and last time that will happen here – it’ll be the staff entrance from now on, if I haven’t already burned my opportunity.

  As I enter the hotel, I’m immediately aware of an enticing fragrance: a seductive blend of coffee, chocolate and cinnamon. As I breathe it in, almost hungrily, I become aware of my surroundings. Soft classical music plays at a volume that’s just enough to add to the atmosphere, without being intrusive. The immaculate black and white foyer is modern and minimalistic, with just a few abstract sculptures presented on tall narrow white columns peppered around the floor. It reminds me a little of a chessboard – a very high class one. But this certainly isn’t the game I want to be playing today. Reluctantly, I approach the long reception desk.

  ‘Good evening, ma’am.’ An attractive woman wearing what is obviously the hotel uniform greets me. ‘Welcome to the Mayfield Hotel. My name is Jiang. How may I help you?’

  ‘Hi.’ I force a smile in return. ‘I’m here to see Aaron, the General Manager.’

  ‘Do you have an appointment?’

  ‘Err… no I don’t, but I met him yesterday, and I was hoping I could have a quick word.’

  ‘No problem, ma’am.’ The woman smiles politely. ‘I’ll see if he’s available. May I take your name?’

  ‘It’s Liv. Liv Hamilton.’

  ‘Thank you, Ms Hamilton. Just one moment, please.’ She lifts the phone and pushes a button that must be a direct dial to Aaron’s office.

  There’s an immediate answer.

  ‘Mr Gardiner?’ the receptionist addresses him. ‘I have someone at reception asking to see you… a Ms Hamilton… Ms Liv Hamilton… no problem, thank you, sir, I’ll let her know.’

  She hangs up the phone.

  ‘He’ll be down in a moment. He said he was expecting you.’ She smiles, assuming this is good news.

  He was expecting me? My heart starts to pound. He knew this would happen. As if it isn’t humiliating enough, having to come and grovel for a job, he probably had a sweepstake running on how long it would take me. He’s certainly played a blinder of a first move. My face burning. I turn away from the receptionist and consider whether to do a runner. I’m like a rabbit caught. If I run for it, I’ll get it in the neck from Dylan, and if I stay, it’ll be Aaron making a meal of me.

  Despite my desp
eration, I realise the better option is to stay and face the humiliation from Aaron. If I endure that, I have some hope of keeping a roof over my head.

  ‘Liv. Good to see you.’ Aaron suddenly sweeps into the reception area from nowhere, looking – in my opinion – just a little bit too smug. ‘Let’s go have a chat, shall we?’

  Offering him an uncomfortable smile, I obediently follow Aaron up a large, sweeping staircase, aware of the receptionist’s eyes on us as we go. I glance back for a moment and offer her a brief smile, all too aware that I may be her colleague in just a few days’ time. She beams at me in return.

  Aaron silently leads me down a corridor to a large office that has his name, along with ‘General Manager’, engraved on a metal plaque on the door. Opening the door, he ushers me inside and then closes it behind us.

  ‘Please take a seat.’ He gestures to a chair in front of his desk, and then retreats behind it to sit in his own.

  I sit down gingerly.

  ‘So, what can I do for you, Liv?’ His tone is brisk; he bobs a little in his seat, his hands clasped together in anticipation.

  Is he kidding? He knows damn well why I’m here.

  ‘I… err… assume you know why I’ve come to see you.’ I awkwardly pull my hair with my thumb and forefinger. ‘The receptionist said you were expecting me.’

  ‘I said that?’ He looks surprised, but I can see a slight glint in his eye.

  He’s not going to give me an easy ride. And after the way I fobbed him off the day before, I can’t really blame him. I’m just going to have to suck it up and play the game.

  ‘OK, well… the reason I’m here is… after meeting you yesterday, I did some sums and realised that I’m not as comfortable financially as I originally thought. You know, it’s probably best if I think ahead.’

  ‘How long till you go under?’ Aaron appraises me knowingly, leaving a gaping hole in my line of pawns.

  ‘About two months.’ I look at the floor in embarrassment.

  ‘Can Dylan not help you out?’ Unapologetically, he goes straight for my queen.

  ‘No.’ I continue playing with my hair.

  ‘What about the temping job?’

  ‘You know fine well there was no temping job.’ I look up at him in frustration. ‘Please don’t make this any more humiliating for me than it needs to be.’

  ‘Why, Liv?’ He cocks his head to one side. ‘If I make it uncomfortable for you to come back to me, then maybe one day you’ll learn to take some help on first offer. It was exactly the same when you were a student.’

  And that’s checkmate. I realise I can’t argue with his logic.

  ‘OK, fine. I hear you.’ I force myself to look him in the eye. ‘Aaron, I’m sorry I brushed you off yesterday. If it’s still available, I’d like to take the job in the bar. As close to full-time as possible. Though I’ll still need to be able to get to interviews as and when they come up.’

  Aaron fixes his eyes on me. ‘Liv, don’t ever apologise to me. I don’t have a damaged ego that needs massaging. I just want you to learn to help yourself. There’s no shame in asking for support. You deserve another chance. You deserve to be successful. And I’m sure you will be again…’

  ‘Thanks,’ I mumble. ‘Here’s hoping.’

  ‘So, in the words of Sir Alan,’ Aaron continues, ‘you’re hired. You can start on Monday – the quieter part of the week – to ease you in gently.’

  ‘Thanks, Aaron.’ I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘Really, you have no idea.’

  ‘I think I do. More than you realise.’

  Surprised by his comment, I look at him expectantly, wondering if he’s about to share more, but the glimmer of compassion I just witnessed is already gone. It would be inappropriate to probe further.

  ‘Right, come on then.’ Aaron jumps out of his chair. ‘I’ll give you the grand tour.’

  ‘OK, great.’ He seems so enthusiastic, I almost forget this is a job I don’t actually want.

  Aaron leads me round the hotel like I’m his little dog, striding a few steps ahead of me at all times. I try to keep up, but his legs are too long, leaving me to trot along behind him. We revisit reception where I’m properly introduced to Jiang, the receptionist I spoke to when I first arrived, as well as two of her colleagues. Aaron shows me a guest room and a suite, so I can get a feel for the hotel, as well as taking me on a tour of the plush leisure club, the two restaurants, into the kitchen – bursting with delicious foodie aromas – to meet the chefs, and briefly through housekeeping.

  We then enter a traditional-style bar called The Library, which is decked out with huge comfy sofas and armchairs, elegant oak tables, and has a long mural on the back wall of shelves and shelves of books, making it look just like a library; it’s a beautifully peaceful room that actually smells a bit like a library (in a good way). However, to my disappointment, the average age of punter seems rather high, and it appears to be extremely lacking on the entertainment front. This could be one easy – but boring – job.

  ‘So, this is where I’ll be working then.’ I look around me, pretending to be pleased.

  ‘No, Liv. I can’t see you working in here, can you?’ He looks at me curiously.

  ‘Err… is that a trick question?’ I’m careful not to create any further problems for myself.

  ‘No, it’s not. We actually have three bars here. I’ve saved the one you’ll be working in for last.’

  He summons me to follow him, walking me through a second bar that feels much more up my street. It’s small and intimate, oozing class, with a pianist plinging away, creating beautiful marshmallowy melodies at a white piano in the corner.

  ‘Ooh, a champagne bar,’ I coo. ‘How did I not know this was here?’

  ‘It’s for residents only, as is The Library,’ says Aaron. ‘We get some very exclusive guests in here, including some household names. They need somewhere private to enjoy their tipple, so we provided these restricted spaces for them. This is called The Hideaway.’

  ‘Good name.’ I nod my approval. ‘Who comes to stay here? Go on, I bet I know them. I’m well versed on all celebrities, A through Z.’

  Aaron gives me a withering look. ‘This is probably the point where I should share the cardinal hotel rule with you, Liv. All staff in this hotel are expected to be discreet. We do not approach the guests other than to serve them, we certainly don’t ask for autographs or selfies, and in no circumstances is it acceptable to tip off the paparazzi about anything that goes on here. We only hire staff who understand and abide by that rule. I know I don’t need to be concerned about you for a second, do I?’

  ‘No. Definitely not.’ I feel stupid for my earlier comment.

  ‘Good.’ He gives me his best deranged-serial-killer look. ‘Let’s go take a look at where you’ll be working.’

  I scuttle along behind him as we cross to the other side of the hotel and take a glass lift to the ground floor.

  ‘He we are.’ Aaron leads me out of the lift, across the foyer and through a set of doors into a huge modern-looking bar with a very modern, chic feel to it. It’s laid out like an auditorium, with a curved bar where a stage would be, and steps leading away on a very gentle gradient, branching off to individual ‘floors’ on either side. Each seating area is spacious, but with just a handful of tables, offering a feeling of privacy and exclusivity. The lighting is medium-level with purplish, strategically positioned LEDs, creating a moody, funky kind of atmosphere. Strip lighting on the steps adds to the cinematic feel, as does the beat of the bass-heavy music pumping out the surround sound speakers. At the bar, the bottles sit on white LED lighting, giving them an eerie, but enticing kaleidoscopic glow.

  ‘Wow!’ I’m speechless for a second. ‘This place is incredible. Is this where I’ll be working then?’

  ‘This is it.’ Aaron nods. ‘Our gin bar: Amethyst. It’s brand new, been open for just over a month. It’s the only bar that’s open to the public. We only recently took the decision to do that, and it’s
very popular and busy already.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’ I’m in awe, but also disappointed that this will be my place of work rather than my playground. ‘Gin is the in thing these days.’

  ‘Ah, Reyes. Good timing,’ Aaron calls across to a young woman who’s just entered the bar with a sack of ice. ‘Come and meet your new colleague.’

  ‘Hola, Mister Gardiner.’ She deposits the bag behind the bar and casually wanders round to join us.

  She has silky, dark, shoulder-length hair, Mediterranean sun-kissed skin and pistachio green eyes: strikingly beautiful in a non-classic way.

  ‘And who is this?’ she asks in a thick Spanish accent, offering me a friendly wink.

  ‘This, Reyes, is an ex-employee of mine from several years ago.’ Aaron gestures towards me. ‘Meet Liv.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Liv.’ Reyes offers me her hand, which I shake a bit too corporately, forgetting where I am. ‘You know he is slave diver, right?’

  ‘Yes, I guess I do.’ I smile, resisting the urge to correct her turn of phrase.

  ‘There’s nothing I do better.’ Aaron grins maniacally, as he towers over the two of us like a socially awkward pine tree.

  Reyes and I simultaneously roll our eyes, then laugh.

  ‘When do you start?’ she asks me.

  ‘Monday, it seems.’ I look up at Aaron, who nods confirmation.

  ‘Fantastico! You will work with me. Great to have another chica on the team; I have been outnumbering recently.’ She smiles in such an open and friendly way, the dread of my first day, that’s already been steadily building up, erodes ever so slightly.

  ‘Reyes, how about you give Liv a quick tour of the bar, show her how things work, so it’s not totally alien when she comes in on Monday?’ Aaron suggests.

  ‘Sure,’ she says. ‘No problemo, Mister Gardiner.’

  With Reyes’s accent being so strong, she pronounces it meester. It’s very endearing; I find myself warming to her immediately.

  ‘Come with me, Liv.’ She beckons me, similarly mispronouncing my name as Leev. ‘I can show you everything.’

 

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