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The next few hours were spent serving drinks and putting up with sexist comments made by sexist men who thought they were God’s gift to mankind; women in particular. She checked the clock for what felt like the tenth time, and sighed when she saw that she still had almost two hours to go until the end of her shift. She wasn’t sure how many more pompous middle-aged mid-life crisis businessmen or elderly and wealthy playboy wannabe’s she could stand, but she gritted her teeth and turned back to the bar with her usual smile plastered to her face.
When she saw the man who was sat on the other side, however, her smile faltered. He looked to be in his early thirties, which was older than she typically liked, and he had a sullen look on his face that would have curdled milk if they actually sold any. But, his looks made her forget all of that, if she’d even noticed in the first place.
He had a chiseled jawline that made him look strong, even if you couldn’t see that he was broad in the shoulders and tapered at the waist, indicating a muscled physique. His eyes were of the most piercing dark green that Isobel had ever seen, and the way they were looking at her right now made her feel as though he could see into her very soul. And those lips; oh man, what she wouldn’t give to have those lusciously full lips on her.
Of course, another added attraction was that he was obviously filthy rich, if his designer suit and expensive masculine jewelry were anything to go by. Always an added bonus, she thought. She gave herself a mental shake and put her smile back on; although this time it was definitely not a fake one.
“And what’s your pleasure, Sir?” Her voice was sultry and she knew that her double entendre had not gone unnoticed by the way he raised one eyebrow at her.
“I don’t think it’s legal to serve my pleasure in a place like this, so I’ll have a cognac instead, please.” His voice was as sexy as she’d been expecting and Isobel actually felt shivers run down her spine as he spoke. I wonder what he does like for pleasure, she thought briefly. His sour expression had been replaced by a slightly more amicable one, but he still looked fed up and Isobel made her mind up there and then to make sure that she did everything she could to make him smile before he left.
She poured the man his drink and added a little extra to the measure. She’d discovered very early on in her job that men were always more talkative when they drank more alcohol. And she really wanted to get this guy talking.
She placed the glass on the counter in front of him and smiled as he opened his wallet to pay her. Holding her finger up to her lips in a shushing motion, she leaned slightly over the bar to talk in a hushed tone. “The first one’s on me. Just don’t tell the boss.” She winked at him mischievously. She was allowed to give the occasional free drink at her discretion, but hardly ever did so she wasn’t abusing the boss or his profit margin.
She’d expected him to be grateful, or at the very least to crack a smile, but she was disappointed when she got a totally unexpected response. With a look that could only be described as scathing, the man took a bill out of his wallet and threw it on the bar anyway.
“If all employees had that attitude there would be a lot more businesses closing down, prices consistently going up on items and services, and wages being reduced to less than they already are.” Even the scowl he shot her way was sexy, and Isobel chastised herself for finding such an obnoxious man so appealing.
“I’m sorry sir, but you misunderstood me.” She was quick to try and put things right, knowing that if she didn’t then she wouldn’t get very much further with him. “The staff here are allowed to offer a free beverage at their discretion. I’m in no way abusing the trust placed upon me by my employer.” She knew that her tone sounded haughty, but she hated for anyone to think that she was dishonest in any way.
He had the grace to at least look a little contrite as he apologized to her. “I guess I’m just a little touchy today. I’m sorry about that.” He grinned sheepishly. “Is it too late to accept your generosity?”
