by Nina Kaye
‘Oh, I never thought of that.’ I chew my lip anxiously. ‘Obviously not, because I’ll be writing about customers. I wouldn’t want to cause any damage to the hotel’s reputation.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Dylan reassures me as he continues to work on the web page in front of him. ‘Just make sure you don’t give away any personal details – about you or the people you write about – or clues to where you work and it’ll be fine.’
‘OK, great.’ I feel better on hearing this.
‘Right, that’s you ready to go,’ he announces. ‘Want to hit the button?’
‘No, I think you should.’ I give him a nudge. ‘You’re the one who’s really made this happen. Go for it.’
‘OK, here goes.’ Dylan hits the ‘publish’ button. ‘That’s you gone live. Congratulations. You’re now officially an online blogger.’
‘Dylan, thank you so much.’ I give him a huge hug. ‘Honestly. Even if this doesn’t take off, you’ve helped me rediscover my writing. Even if I didn’t have financial problems, it still wouldn’t be enough for me to just work in the bar. I love this stuff, and I should never have let myself forget that.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Dylan gives me a playful nudge. ‘At least I’m useful for something.’
‘Hey, you’re useful for a lot of things.’ I look him straight in the eye. ‘I hope this doesn’t come from the way I’ve treated you over the years.’
‘Nah. Don’t worry.’ He bats my words away. ‘It was definitely that rocket of an ex of mine who did it.’
‘Well, maybe we need to focus on your stuff as well,’ I suggest. ‘Reyes might not be available. But there are plenty of women who are, and any one of them would be lucky to have you.’
‘Aww… quit it.’ Dylan gives me an embarrassed shove.
‘I mean it,’ I persist. ‘How about I do something for you in return, and set you up with an amazing online dating profile?’
‘Sure, why not.’ He shrugs. ‘I had wondered about giving it a try. But who’d want to date a guy who can’t spell for shit?’
‘You’d be surprised.’ I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘You did just read my blog, right?’
Chapter 16
Several hours later, I’m dancing round my apartment, music blaring, getting myself glammed up for a night out with Reyes, for which she has insisted on paying. Despite feeling highly uncomfortable, and deploying several bulletproof (I thought) excuses, nothing would put Reyes off: ‘Chica, you come out with me, and I pay, and that is it. I hear no more!’
As I wing my way round my apartment, dabbing on make-up, styling my hair and gathering my outfit and accessories, I intermittently check the stats of my new blog page. Refreshing the data for the third time in an hour, I’m stunned to see that my subscriber list has jumped from eighty-three to two hundred and one. Two hundred subscribers in a matter of hours.
‘Wowsers!’ I do a little shimmy to the music. ‘Dylan, you may just be my second guardian angel.’
Grabbing my phone, I tap out a text to him.
Two hundred! I don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s obviously working. :) xx
He replies almost instantly.
One of the few perks of my job. I have contacts. Remember there’s gonna be an initial spike and then it’ll tail off. Most important thing is to publish regular posts.
I tap out another message.
Don’t worry, I will! I’m loving this. Thank you so much, Dylan. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Speak tomorrow. xx
I put my phone in my handbag, not expecting a reply, but it pings again.
Took you long enough to realise. :P
‘Cheeky sod.’ I smile, replace my phone in my bag, and then return to my beautifying.
Just over an hour later I enter Salt, an edgy bar in the Cowgate, a nightspot I’ve not been well acquainted with since my student days. It’s dark inside, with individual booths sporting vintage memorabilia that have been adapted and arranged in a very alluring way. Low, modish music pumps out of the speakers creating a chilled-out atmosphere. It’s not the kind of place I would ever have noticed, never mind frequented, but I actually quite like its funky charm. I look around for Reyes, but not seeing her, I take a seat in one of the empty booths.
‘Hi there.’ A young male barman wearing skinny distressed jeans and a statement T-shirt approaches me. ‘I assume you’re meeting someone, but would you like a drink while you wait?’
‘Yes, thanks.’ I smile at him and quickly scan the drinks menu, before remembering that Reyes is paying. ‘Actually… can I just have a tap water for now?’
‘Sure. Coming right up.’ He disappears, returning a couple of minutes later with my water.
For the next ten minutes, I mess around with my phone to pass the time as I wait for Reyes. I scroll through my Twitter and Instagram newsfeeds while I wait, paying them little real attention, until I scroll past a Twitter share and do a double take. It’s my blog. Someone I know has retweeted the link.
Delighted, I click into it and start to read through my piece, smiling to myself as I do. I indulge in the words, sentences, paragraphs, chuckling guiltily at my own wit, and can’t help feeling a swell of pride. I did this. Despite all the crushing setbacks of the last few months, I managed it. It’s out there for all to see.
‘You look pleased with yourself,’ a male voice prompts me.
Assuming it’s the barman, I don’t even look up. ‘Actually, I kind of am.’
‘Willing to share?’
He slides into the seat opposite, causing me to glance up in confusion. Instead of finding myself face to face with the barman, I’m looking at Josh. An off-the-scale smoking-hot Josh. Instead of his usual immaculate hotel uniform, he’s wearing a very six-pack-enhancing fitted T-shirt with jeans – and that same dizzyingly, enticing aftershave. Caught by surprise, it takes a moment to catch my breath, and I force a little cough to cover this up.
‘Josh? What are you doing here?’ I laugh casually. ‘What a coincidence.’
‘It’s actually not a coincidence.’ He grins broadly.
‘What? What do you mean?’ My surprise turns to suspicion.
‘Well, we figured it was the only way I’d get you out on a date any time soon.’
‘Who’s we? Wait a minute.’ I stare at him in amazement. ‘You and Reyes set this up?’
‘Actually, it was her idea.’ He shrugs easily. ‘Seemed like a sound enough plan, so I went along with it.’
‘I’ll kill her!’ I grab my phone, and tap out a murderous message, then jab at the send button.
Not knowing what else to do, I stare at my phone uncomfortably. Thankfully, Reyes replies almost straight away, having clearly been waiting for this.
Sorry Chica. You leave me without choice. Enjoy romancing with Josh. x
I stare at her message in disbelief. She set me up? What do I do now? If I leave, it will make things really awkward at work. And if I stay, I’ll have given in. I tentatively look up at Josh, who looks highly entertained. And immensely pleased with himself. What an arrogant sod. But, unfortunately a smoking-hot, totally ripped and utterly charming arrogant sod. Realising there’s no way I can up and leave, I decide I’ll stay for one or two drinks to be polite, then make up an excuse about having an early start.
‘So, what you having?’ Josh cocks his head to one side, his smouldering eyes already burning a hole in my willpower.
Almost completely powerless to his charm, I’m melting by the moment, and it’s clear that I’m on to a loser. There’s no way I’m getting out of here within the hour. My hormones simply won’t allow it.
‘Gin and tonic.’ I sigh resignedly, and sit back in my seat.
‘Coming right up. Don’t go running off.’ He gives me a super sexy wink and heads for the bar.
‘Couldn’t, even if I tried,’ I mutter under my breath, while checking out his perfectly pert backside.
‘That sounds like a total mare.’ Josh sits forward in his seat and
looks me straight in the eye. ‘Seems they totally did one over on you.’
‘Oh, they did.’ I nod theatrically. ‘Didn’t see it coming at all. I thought I was in for a promotion and wham, I was clearing my desk, just like that.’
It’s three hours later. Not only have I not left, I’m practically sitting on Josh’s lap. I’ve also sunk way more alcohol than I would on a usual night out. I can’t decide whether it’s a result of nerves, or subconsciously concocting an excuse for the morning after. I’m certainly well marinated. The upside is that Josh and I are getting on like a storm. The downside is that, with my inhibitions and better judgement drowned in gin, I’ve shared way more than I ever intended to: the current topic of conversation being the rather unpleasant shafting I got from McArthur Cohen.
‘Total mare.’ Josh looks quite perplexed by my tale. ‘I knew companies could be ruthless, but I’ve never met anyone who’s been on the receiving end. Closest comparison I have is watching that film about the financial collapse in the US.’
‘Mmm…’ I stare at Josh lustfully, having temporarily lost focus on the conversation, my roving mind now speculating just how solid those biceps actually are.
What was I thinking, rejecting his advances? He’s the epitome of male perfection. I can totally focus on my career and date him at the same time. Why the hell not? Call it stress relief.
‘Have you seen it?’ Josh prompts me, his left eyebrow raised as he eyes me curiously.
‘Have I seen what?’ I murmur as I breathe in the scent of his aftershave greedily, then come to. ‘Oh… umm… you mean Margin Call?’
‘Yeah, that’s it. Was brutal, watching the guys packing their whole careers into a single box – and that was just an adaptation of what really happened.’
‘Well, I’ve experienced it in real life. It’s just as bad as you might imagine.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ he says. ‘I remember the girls in my class were completely outraged at that scene at the start when the guy is escorted out of the building.’
I shake my head momentarily, wondering if I’ve heard right.
‘Sorry… did you just say… your class? Did you go to uni late?’
‘I didn’t go to university,’ Josh confirms. ‘It was in a business studies class though. We watched it at school.’
I choke on my gin, feeling suddenly quite sober. ‘At school?’
‘Yeah, I was in my final year when the film came out. Class of two thousand and thirteen.’ He looks wistful. ‘Good times.’
‘You left school in two thousand and thirteen?’ Alarm bells start clanging in my already fuzzy mind. ‘Josh, how old are you?’
‘Twenty-three.’ He grins. ‘I look older though, apparently. Can never decide if that’s a good thing.’
‘You’re not joking.’ I feel the colour drain from my face, all lustful thoughts having trickled away with it, causing me to shift away from him slightly. ‘So that means you were born in… nineteen-ninety-six?’
‘Ninety-five,’ he corrects me. ‘Why, how old are you?’
‘I’m… err… thirty-one. So, eighty-seven.’
‘No way!’ Josh’s face fills with surprise. ‘I thought you were about twenty-seven.’
‘I’m always told I look younger,’ I mutter.
I suddenly feel a little bit sick – and not from the alcohol. Having finally decided that Josh is worth a shot, the opportunity has been cruelly snatched away from me. I feel like a kid who’s just had their candy stolen.
‘Hey, what’s age, anyway?’ Josh shrugs casually. ‘I figured you were older than me. Liked the idea of dating an older woman, actually.’
‘But, nearly ten years older?’ I cringe as I say the words out loud.
‘Why not? Women my age are so… image-obsessed. You’re not like that. You’re real. You’re fun. And you’re very attractive, if I’m allowed to say so.’
I laugh at the irony of it all. If Josh had met me six months ago in a different context, he might have found me just as unappealing as the women he’s described. It’s not my age that’s got him interested.
He’s scrutinising me with his smouldering eyes, still close enough that wafts of his aftershave keep teasing me, trying to draw me back in.
‘You’re allowed to say so,’ I confirm. ‘But, I think I might just be a bit too old for you, Josh.’
‘Nonsense.’ He runs a hand through his sexy sun-kissed hair, causing me to sigh involuntarily at the injustice of it all. ‘We might be from different decades, but we’re both millennials. And we like each other, right? Unless I’ve got this all wrong?’
He uses both hands to gesture from himself to me, and back again, his eyes simultaneously sending out the ‘lost-puppy-dog’ and ‘come-to-bed’ signals that only he could pull off. The way he does it, his facial expression, it’s almost explosive, triggering a new wave of lust to come crashing through my consciousness. My stomach doesn’t just flip, it launches into multiple somersaults, topped off with a demi-plié, and I realise I’m done for.
He may have been in primary school when I went to university, but just one look, one sparkling smile is all it seems to take. And the more of them I’m subjected to, the weaker I become.
‘Oh hell!’ I make a show of finally caving. ‘No, you haven’t got it wrong, you sexy bugger.’
‘I knew it!’ Josh pumps the air with his fist in a gesture of victory.
‘Although keep doing that and I might change my mind.’ I raise my eyebrows at him in warning.
I laugh as he comically hides his arm beneath the table, and before I realise what’s happening, he’s holding my hand. His touch is warm and tender. I look down in surprise and then up at his face. He smiles at me coyly and gives my hand a little squeeze, as if seeking permission. My pulse quickens as I realise he’s about to kiss me. I smile back shyly, giving him the go-ahead, and before I know it his other hand is on the back of my neck, his face moving towards mine. I close my eyes and as his lips meet mine, fireworks erupt in my already well-churned stomach. We cling to each other together hungrily in our passionate embrace, the bar and all the other punters having faded into non-existence.
After several minutes, we pull apart, slightly breathless, and look at each other almost guiltily – as if what we’ve just experienced is too good not to be wrong. Then in an instant, Josh makes it all better: he simply holds out his arm, and I instinctively slot in underneath as he pulls me into a reassuring embrace.
As I snuggle into him, my mind whirls with a million conflicting thoughts. He’s amazing, and gorgeous, and sexy. But so young. How can this end well? I already like him so much. At least, I think I do.
Still lucid enough to realise the alcohol may be playing a part in all this, I decide I’ll assess the situation again tomorrow. And I’ll also sort Reyes out for getting me in this mess in the first place. But, in the meantime, one night of fun isn’t going to do any harm – surely.
Chapter 17
‘You are in so much trouble, lady!’
I march across to the bar, where Reyes is arranging fresh flowers in the two huge ceramic vases that sit either end of the bar.
‘Chica!’ Reyes looks up in delight. ‘You are here, finally. Tell me everything!’
‘Uh-uh.’ I shake my head deliberately. ‘You’re not getting away with this. You put me in an impossible situation last night. What were you thinking?’
‘I think you are needing romancing with Josh.’ Reyes shrugs as if this is obvious, then breaks into a twinkling smile. ‘And did you have romancing?’
‘I… what… well, yes,’ I stammer. ‘But that’s not the point. The point is that I didn’t want to.’
‘You didn’t want romancing, but you had romancing?’ Reyes looks at me in alarm. ‘I do not mean for this, if Josh make you—’
‘No.’ I cut her off. ‘Nothing like that. He was a perfect gentleman. A perfect sexy gentleman. As much as a twenty-three-year-old can be, that is…’
I lose my train of thought
as memories from the previous evening – both amazing and terrifying – flood my mind.
‘Aww, Chica. You are in love.’ Reyes’s eyes return to glinting mischievously.
‘I’m not in bloody love.’ I snap back to the present. ‘It’s lust, at best. He’s twenty-three, Reyes. Twenty-three!’
‘And?’ Reyes looks unfazed by this news. ‘So, you are older. This is good. You can teach him. You can be his puma.’
‘His what?’
‘You know.’ Reyes searches for the explanation. ‘The older woman who takes a young hombre.’
‘The word you’re looking for is cougar,’ I say flatly.
‘Yes! This is it.’
‘Thanks, Reyes. Thanks so much.’ I stare at her deadpan. ‘I was struggling enough with the age gap before you decided to throw in that grenade. That’s not a complimentary label.’
I enter the store cupboard and slump on to one of the chairs, my hangover suddenly feeling ten times worse.
‘But, this is not bad thing.’ Reyes follows me and settles into the seat beside me. ‘To be cougar is to be powerful. You are in charge. A strong, powerful chica, who has a man who devotes to her.’
‘That’s definitely not the definition I’m familiar with,’ I mutter. ‘It’s more sad, desperate, over-the-hill woman seeks weak, much younger man to play out early mid-life crisis.’
‘You are not over this hill.’ Reyes swipes her hand through the air, causing me to instinctively duck. ‘You are only thirty-one. This world is still your oyster sauce.’
‘Oyster,’ I correct her. ‘It’s just oyster.’
‘Chica, why you do this? You are just like Amir.’ Reyes eyes me in a sort of affectionate-cum-menacing way. ‘This is what I say. Oyster sauce.’
I shake my head resignedly.
‘So, what I am saying,’ Reyes continues, ‘is that you are still young and beautiful. It not important that Josh is younger. The only person seeing this problem is you. You don’t have to marriage him. Just enjoy romancing him and see where this is going. You must grab this. Or else you will become old cougar like you describe. And you will only be having yourself to blame. Sí?’