“Where did he get my number from?” I guess.
I lie in bed for a long time, look at the ceiling and think about Nick. I wonder what it feels like to look at the ceiling, lying next to it. My eyes slowly close when I imagine Nick falling on me, covering my body with his own and squeezing his hips between mine.
Such thoughts take me back to sleep.
* * *
The “end” looks almost the same as yesterday, only a little more light burns inside and voices are heard. Two voices – and one belongs to the person who is clearly on the platoon.
“So I have to mess with some kind of dropout?” Oh shit! I’m the eldest here. He could at least consult with me.
I see who the voice belongs to – some panicle in long whitish dreadlocks and with a flat tattooed arm. She waved a rake in annoyance and yelled at a kid who looked no more excited than a tank.
“Cool off, crazy,” he says good-naturedly. I can only see the dark-haired nape of the guy, in his voice you hear a barely restrained laugh. – He said she is experienced. Maybe she won’t have to drag her so long.
– If she is going to be paired with me, then she will either be the best, or I will not work with her.
“Well, you are such a sweet, complaisant beer girl, you know yourself.”
She, who had turned away to pour something behind the counter, turns to him so abruptly that I hear dreadlocks whipping the boy’s face.
“What did you call me?”
The guy throws his head back and bursts into laughter. Loud. I expect that now she will scratch his eyes, but instead, to my surprise, she smiles. And this is the end of the incident
Without giving myself time to think about the possibility of a retreat, I collect the last ounces of courage that I have, clear my throat and begin to move to the bar counter.
Both heads turn and follow my approach. When I come up, I notice that the girl, although endowed with demonic temper, is pretty beautiful. She has large almond-shaped eyes and puffy red lips. And boy … wow! He is also handsome.
It looks exotic. Maybe a Hawaiian, or maybe a Cuban. The skin is caramel-colored, soot-black hair and the same black eyes. And the smile with which he turns to me? Holy sinners!
What is it? The country of failed fashion models?
I try not to be embarrassed by my appearance. Not so open clothing, at least it does not cause discomfort, but I still feel … anxiety. Jeans move out, revealing a decent part of the abdomen, and the top is probably one size smaller than I usually wear, and leaves a hollow between the breasts open for sight. As a result, there is nothing particularly terrible, but attention is provided to me, there can be no doubt. That’s why I’m nervous.
I do not stick out of the top as frankly as that girl, whose cheerful tits are probably artificial. She has everything bare that is possible, and I’m even slightly proud of my forms. If I have something special, it’s chubby buttocks.
I smile broadly and hold out my hand.
– Hi, I’m Olivia. And you, probably, Nellie, “I say, turning first to the girl. Obviously, if I can have problems with someone here, it’s with her.
“I could say that I was waiting for you, but I will not say: I only recently found out that I will deal with you, therefore …”
She is annoyed – yes, but not hostile. I take this for a good sign and begin to enter the game as a linebacker.
– I will try to quickly figure out everything. Fortunately, I have a lot of experience working in a bar, so … – I say, following Nelly’s example without completing the sentence.
She nods, but a smile expresses obvious doubt.
– We’ll see.
– Well! I exclaim enthusiastically. “I look forward to when we begin.” – I quickly turn around to the guy, direct his outstretched hand in his direction. He continues to smile.
– Olivia.
“Pablo,” he says gently, and mischievous sparks sparkle in his eyes. Again and again you meet people who immediately become attached to you at the first meeting. I have no doubt that I like Pablo. He doesn’t even try to hide it. And why should he hide? There is probably not a woman on the planet who can resist the spell of a guy like him – a swarthy, hot, outspoken, with a wicked smile. – The evening has become much more pleasant.
Oh, he seems to be causing me problems!
“Maybe for me, too,” I reply with a playful smile.
The ability to flirt with him is a clear sign that nothing can happen between us. These are the guys who tie me into a knot, like Cash and Nick – that’s cause for concern.
– Turn your sweet smile to customers – it will be more correct, but better learn how to serve a drink, – Tarin sharply throws and leaves.
Pablo makes a soothing gesture and rolls his eyes.
– Do not pay attention. She has an eternal period. When the customers turn up, it will become more pleasant.
I smile and nod, but whisper to myself: “Praise be to the Almighty!”
“Maybe her dreadlocks are overtightened?” I mutter softly.
Pablo laughs:
– Heck! Beautiful and fun. I can’t wait to see what else is hidden behind this sexy smile.
“Nothing as charming as yours, I’m sure.”
Pablo, not ceasing to smile, nods:
– Oh yes yes. We get along.
I am rarely afraid of work, but usually I don’t feel that kind of impatience either. I wait until the place is filled with visitors, and then I go to see how things are going with Olivia. I deliberately give her time to get comfortable and appear only after that. I understand that she can get nervous.
I know she wants me – at least I think it is. But she doesn’t seem to want to want me. This alone arouses interest in me.
I am not against the cat-and-mouse game that we started. I agree to play a little to get her to bed. As for women, instincts, as a rule, do not deceive me, and now all my gut says: she is worth it to tolerate.
I take the first step and look around at the ocean of heads. Eyes immediately rush towards the bar towards Olivia.
I instantly distinguish her from the crowd, partly because I’m a couple of inches taller than the tallest person between us, and partly because a small circle of men has gathered around Olivia. Already.
She smiles at the customer, mixing rum with Coca-Cola. I watch how a girl takes a credit card from a guy and passes it on the receiving device with such confidence that she did it every day for many years.
Olivia is good. And I am satisfied. I would have left her anyway, but it’s nice to know that the girl was standing.
Oh yes, standing. Exactly.
I want to dream about how I will put her on the bar, when the club is empty, I will pull off her clothes and put her smooth skin on. I mercilessly cut off these thoughts and return to a more urgent matter – to listening. Olivia should not know that there is no need for this. I would still take her to work. But the audition will take place anyway, for the most part for my pleasure.
I pave my way through the crowd to the end of the long, straight bar where Olivia stands. I stop behind the semicircle of the men surrounding the girl and wait until she looks up and notices me. When this happens, I see her freeze for a moment. It is almost imperceptible, so much so that I doubt if anyone else paid attention to it. But it didn’t hide from me, which is important.
Olivia nervously licks her lips and smiles. I wink at her just to see how she reacts. She freezes again, paint fills her cheeks, but then she looks away and looks down for a second. I think Olivia herself does not realize that she is frowning.
Damn I like it! She reacts to me even when she does not want to.
I don’t know why she is trying so hard to isolate herself from me. I’m not such a bad guy: I’m healthy, in great shape, I own a successful business, have no debts and, damn it, are pretty attractive in appearance. At least that’s what they say.
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