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He frowned and returned her glare. “Is that, right? You haven’t given me a chance, yet.”
“I don’t intend to either. Thank you for the drink, and good night.” Myla chucked back her wine and stood to her feet then marched in the direction of the ladies’.
Spending a further twenty minutes in the ladies’ touching up her make-up and pacing back and forth, she left to take up a seat at the bar and waited for candidate number two. After another glass of wine, she heard him before she saw him.
“Myla?” He questioned.
Turning around swiftly towards the direction of the deep, gruff voice, she lost her balance on the stool and felt herself falling towards the floor. Immediately, strong hands grabbed her arms and caught her. “Well, that’s the first time a woman has fallen at my feet, literally.” He laughed steadying her back to solid ground.
“Jesus, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled. Her face was on fire and burned with embarrassment, she took a step back from him and attempted to gain her composure. “I think I need another drink,” she muttered.
“Let’s start again, I’m Luca.” His eyes penetrated her own when she finally gained the courage to look at him. Her breath momentarily failed her as she stood rooted to the spot.
He is a god. “I’m…err…Uhm… Myla,” she spluttered, bringing a palm to her heated cheek, flirtatiously.
“Go and sit down and I’ll fetch some drinks. Red wine?” He offered, looking at her empty glass.
Oh, this man is not a god, he is an angel. Unable to get her vocal chords to work, she simply smiled, nodded, then moved away from the bar, and found a seat at a table. He returned with a tray full of drinks, placed her wine in front of her, and put the rest in front of himself. Sitting down he ran a hand over his long dark hair before slamming back three of the five shots in front of him. Myla sat opened-mouthed and watched him. He gasped loudly in-between each shot. His chiseled, lightly stubbled jaw, flexed as he brought each glass to his mouth. He had chocolate brown eyes, and thick bushy eyebrows.
Those eyebrows need plucking. “Are you nervous?” Chuckled Myla, taking a sip of her wine.
“No, it’s just been a long night already.” He winked, and finished the shots in front of him then cradled his pint in his hands.
“I suppose being a policeman tests your patience,” Myla replied trying to keep her tone casual.
He diverted his gaze towards the floor. “I lied, I’m not a policeman,” he said quietly.
Myla’s eyes increased in size and she felt her lashes reach up to her eyebrows. “You lied?” She gasped. “What do you really do for a living?”
He smiled, widely, and it was at this point she noticed the two gold teeth residing in his mouth. Oh, dear God, he is a criminal.
“I’m a stripper, I work at Rhino’s,” he said, proudly.
“A what?” she lowly shrieked, gulping back another swig of wine. How would he pass for a lawyer? My
parents would know straight away.
“A stripper, sweetheart. I take off my clothes and thrust my manhood in desperate women’s faces.”
Myla winced. Please just kill me now! “Wow, that sounds…so…fascinating,” she said with a grimace, then gulped back the rest of her red wine.
“So how come a hottie like you can’t get a man? And why are you advertising for a fiancé?”
Rolling her neck, Myla took a deep breath. “I don’t have time for a relationship, my sister is getting married and my parents seem to think I am attending with my fiancé.”
He raised a bushy eyebrow at her. “So, you told them you were engaged?”
Realizing how childish it sounded coming from his mouth, she looked towards the ceiling, feeling ashamed. “Yes,” she whispered.
He chuckled, followed by a snort like a pig, causing Myla to squint her eyes shut tight. “Well this is some length you’re going to. Tell me, why haven’t you just said you’ve broken up?”
Snapping her eyes back in his direction, she shrugged, “I don’t want my mother to be disappointed in me. I’d rather do fake than say we had separated, trust me.” Picking up his pint he downed half in one long slurp, then proceeded to belch loudly. Gross, just gross.
“Do you expect sex?” He asked, excitement lighting up his tanned face.
“Hell no!” Myla snapped harshly. Picking up her wine glass, she sighed in disappointment when she realized it was empty. Probably just as well, I’m beginning to feel muddy headed. “I’m just going to the bar,” she said and pushed herself to her feet.
“Oh great. I’ll have a few shots and a beer please.” He smiled briefly before turning his attention towards a buxom brunette sat two tables away.
