“You shouldn’t be afraid of me, Jolie. There’s no need, I’d never hurt you.”
It was a promise I was set on keeping for reasons I couldn’t quite quantify. Turning, I pressed my hand to the door handle to leave, something making me change my mind at the last minute. A split second later, I was in front of Jolie again, this time with my hands clasped to her cheeks, and I whispered a kiss across those beautiful peach coloured lips of hers.
Instant gratification from the slightest of touches made me falter. This woman was going to be my reckoning - or my downfall - I didn’t care which. The visceral reaction to the way her skin heated as I touched her, was a warning bell, one I wasn’t paying any heed to. Jolie was different, Jolie was going to teach me lessons I hadn’t so far wanted to learn. All my instincts were telling me I was about to enter a battle of wills and I was more than ready for the challenge.
Jolie was exactly the kind of person I wanted to wage wars for. Don’t ask me how I knew, I just did. I felt her right down in my chest, and that brand-new feeling scared me to death and excited me in equal measure.
If I hadn’t been ready to walk before, I was now. Jolie Summers was proof that possibilities were endless.
Jolie
You could barely call it a kiss, yet a kiss it was. A kiss that left me disorientated and shaking like a leaf. I didn’t know how long I stood in his absence, trying to make sense of what had just happened, the whole encounter entirely bizarre.
Shaking loose the tension, my anxiety bled away as I pulled myself together, straightening my skirt and brushing my fingers over where Yannick had touched his lips to mine. Grabbing the bottle of vodka I’d initially come into the storeroom for, I strolled back into the bar, ignoring the pinch on my heels of the high shoes I still wasn’t used to wearing.
The rest of the shift swung by with gusto. I’d successfully ignored CeeCee’s blatant dirty looks for most of the night, and kind of wallowed in the sidelong glances I’d caught Yannick throwing my way a time or two. The group of men with him were merry, cracking jokes, definitely on the road to drunk. They’d remained respectful despite the amount of alcohol they were putting away, holding their booze didn’t appear to be a problem, that was for sure.
“Time’s getting close, guys. Last call, what’s it to be?” Stupid to call them out really, the owner was sitting right there, he could close up and they could continue to drink if they wanted.
Yannick had a glazed look about him, the harsher features of his face softened, and I grew bolder as I looked him over for longer than I normally would have dared. The guy that appeared the closest to him, Sandir, caught my eye and winked, causing me to blush. They all seemed to be decent blokes, on the surface anyway, and I had to check those thoughts a time or two when I remembered what I’d walked into all those years ago. They weren’t good, not really, they just showed people what they wanted to see.
“Bunny!” Greg was the only one that seemed to set himself apart, not quite fitting, and I liked him from the word get go, maybe because we were similar in age and I couldn’t detect a threatening bone about him. “We got a car coming. We’ll lock up, you can get off.”
Yeah, the guy was cute, but I had the distinct feeling women weren’t on his radar and he was simply a natural charmer with a playful side to him. “I’ll let the rest know. We have clean-up so the house lights will be up shortly. Thanks.”
“Could you do coffee?” The man whose name was Andrey, if I remembered correctly, simpered at me hopefully while Yannick smirked. “Would that be all right?”
“Sure. Give me ten and I’ll bring through a pot.”
“No espresso?” Sandir sulked and I burst out laughing at how ridiculous the big man looked with the petulant pout on his face.
“Just regular, I’m afraid.”
“That’s more than fine.” Yannick dug his elbow into the side of Sandir, scowling in his direction.
Dashing to the bar, I leaned over and called Carol. “Mr Ischmov and his party are having coffee, then locking up.”
Shrugging at me, she said. “He’s the boss. Bill scarpered earlier, so it saves Jenny hanging around to shut up the bar.”
“Great, I’m so ready to get on home. I doubt I’m ever going to get used to these bloody shoes.”
Then I thought about what was waiting for me there, and my good mood deflated quicker than the air escaping from a popped balloon. Up and down my emotions swung, high to low, then back again. It suddenly occurred to me why I enjoyed working at Caulder’s - it was a reprieve. In the bar there was no need to think too hard, I could sling drinks in my sleep. I didn’t have to mind my p’s and q’s because I wasn’t dealing with children. The adult conversation that sometimes accompanied the placement of a drink on a table for a customer was the most I ever received on a day-to-day basis. I swore, if I could have handled the late nights and the relatively crap pay, I would’ve worked Caulder’s every damn night of the week. Which was pathetically sad, my existence didn’t altogether amount to much when I looked a little closer.
