Louisa George – Enemies with Benefits (страница 8)
Ignoring the
Isaac walked the barman to the seating area out front. ‘Okay, Jamie, sit down, mate. I’ll call a cab and come with you.’
‘And close up the bar? Don’t be daft.’
Poppy shook her head, grasping the ‘get out of jail free’ card. ‘I can go with you if you like? This is my kind of territory. I might be able to fast-track you through.’
Jamie looked at them both in turn. ‘Er … seriously? I stopped needing a nanny in primary school. It’s a cut hand, is all. Just get me a taxi and I’ll sort the rest. It’ll leave you short for tonight though, Isaac. Sorry, mate.’
‘Not your problem. Just get it fixed. I’ll be fine.’
‘With the Christmas cocktail lesson starting in thirty minutes? You reckon? How about you call Maisie in?’
Isaac frowned. ‘She’s gone to Oxford with her boyfriend.’
‘Carl?’
The frown deepened. ‘At some uni event. No worries, I’ll be fine. I can manage.’
Jamie turned to Poppy, holding his hand close to his chest. Blood seeped through the towel, vivid red contrasting with his blanching complexion. He needed to be gone and quick. ‘I know this is a long shot, but I don’t suppose you have any bar experience, do you?’
Spend more time with the man she’d shared a bed with? And who her body appeared to want a repeat performance with. This time, with full body contact?
No way. ‘Me? No. Not really.’
Jamie’s shoulders slumped. ‘Just for a couple of hours until I get back, or Isaac can get reinforcements?’
She looked at them both staring at her. Jamie hopeful. Isaac not so much. But heck, she had nothing to do for the next few hours … days … and no one to do it with. She might as well stay and be of use to someone as sit at home with four-legged furry friends and a bent Christmas tree. ‘I … well, I could collect glasses and take orders, I suppose.’
Isaac looked less than thrilled but relieved. ‘Are you sure? Thanks. Most excellent. That would be a great help. I can teach the class, no problem, it’s just the serving I need a hand with.’ He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek that sent shock waves of lust shivering through her. This was such a bad idea. ‘You’re a star.’
‘I know.’
As they watched Jamie leave in the taxi, Isaac stepped closer, eyes twinkling. ‘You never know, Popsicle, you might learn a few things. Cocktails are my speciality. Especially virgi—’
‘No. Don’t say it. Don’t even go there.’ She stabbed a finger into that hard wall of muscle he had for a chest, resisting the sudden urge to fist his shirt and pull him closer and press her lips to his again—just to remind her what he tasted like. ‘I’m doing this because you looked after me last night. Because you’re letting me have the private room for my party. And because you bought a mousetrap. After this we’ll be even. But be warned …’ She fought the urge to either slap or kiss his now teasing, grinning face. ‘One mention of virgins, almost or otherwise, and I’m gone.’
‘ONE RED-HOT RUDOLPH, two Christmas Kisses and a Candy Cane Caipirinha, please.’ Poppy shook her head as she gave the order to Isaac. Two hours of cocktail chaos and she was still getting used to the names of these things, and to carrying and fetching.
‘Righto, you’re getting the hang of this.’ He nodded and reached for a bottle of rum. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d be any use at all.’
‘Well, gee, thanks. This may surprise you, but I’m a woman of many talents. Mind you, it is very different from what I’m used to. I’m usually the one giving the orders, so being on the other side of them is a big smack to the ego. Keeping me real.’ She did quote marks with her fingers for the
Apart from having Isaac’s eyes following her around the whole time.
He might well have been just watching to make sure she was doing her job okay, but it felt strange. Intense. She felt scrutinised under his gaze and, every which way she thought about it, she came up wanting. Every sorry experience with him had shown her as an inadequate ingénue, even now after all these years. Had she really blurted out her stupid worries under the influence of way too many wines?
Still, at least the early rush was starting to die down and she could catch her breath. Shame, then, that it only ever seemed to stall when she was around Isaac. ‘Clever names. Who came up with them?’
He gave the cocktail-shaker thing a good shake, then poured a bright pink drink into a highball glass, leaned over the bar and popped it on Poppy’s tray along with a smaller, salt-rimmed lime-coloured drink. His shirt shifted over his body as he moved, straining across muscles that could not possibly have been honed just by making drinks in a bar. She knew he boxed with Matt and Alex when he was in town, other than that, she realised, she knew very little about his life. Apart from the colour of his boxer shorts. The width of his thighs. And the length … She nearly dropped the tray.
Lost for words, she dragged her eyes away and steadied herself. This was not like her and it was getting out of control.
He didn’t seem to notice. ‘The whole team had a brainstorming session and came up with the cocktail names. In a couple of weeks we’ll be running daily specials on the twelve cocktails of Christmas, so we needed twelve half-decent-sounding ones.’
‘That must have been fun. How refreshing to have a job where you can do fun stuff.’
‘You don’t have a laugh at work?’
‘Oh, yes, sometimes, of course. The clients are usually all gorgeous. But this is so … carefree. Making up names for drinks, choosing which music to play, picking out wall colours and decor.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘Running an internationally successful business is carefree? Wow, I’d love to see what you mean by intense? Hectic? Challenging?’
‘You know what I mean. It’s not life and death—and that’s just great.’ She pigged her eyes at him and enjoyed watching him laugh. ‘I love how you’ve given the clients a couple of recipes to take away and try at home, too. They seem really pleased with that.’
‘It always pays to give them an extra something. It’s good business.’ He pointed at the glasses. ‘This is a Christmas Kiss for table two and a Merry Margarita for table six. When you’ve delivered them you can take a break. The night shift staff are arriving soon so we’ll be a little less busy.’
Thank goodness. Being a busy registrar at the hospital was hard enough on her feet, but, despite the fun, waitressing made her back and shoulders hurt, too. She’d have a lot more respect for waitresses in the future. She walked towards what she thought was table six. Had an uncharacteristic mind melt. Was it over in the right corner? Left?
Suddenly a hand clamped round her backside making her jump and nearly lose the glasses onto the floor. ‘Hey, little lady. Right in the perfect spot. You looking for someone, because I’m right here. Christmas kiss?’
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What? She turned to find a short man with a nasty skin disease, which she’d definitely be looking up in a textbook later, and hair that needed a serious wash, violating her personal space. He reached out for the Merry Margarita and as she watched him she realised she’d been standing under a sprig of mistletoe. The groper grinned. ‘These for me? Keep ’em coming.’
‘Not unless you’re from table six and the last time I looked there were two women sitting there.’ She eased her bottom away from his hand. ‘Unless you’ve had a sudden sex change? Or would you like me to give you one? I’m a dab hand with a scalpel.’
He didn’t move, but his hand hovered perilously close. ‘I was just being friendly. It is the season to be merry.’
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