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I was glad that I had convinced Derrick not to tell Marcie or Claire about my encounters with the sexy Mr Rominov. I didn’t think I could stand the embarrassment. Also, since I hadn’t had a boyfriend or even a date in ages, they’d be dying to know all the juicy details. I knew I would never hear the end of it if they knew about the kiss, so I thought it best to keep it from them.
Of course, I had to agree to go shopping with him as the price for his secrecy. I wasn’t the biggest fan of shopping, but Derrick loved it and was a fashion addict, he especially loved shoes. Whenever the latest in shoes or trainers hit the shops, Derrick would be first in the queue.
He was off for a few days, and so here I was on Wednesday, being dragged around London’s trendiest boutiques before my evening shift at my new job. Derrick was shopping for a birthday gift for his new boyfriend. They’d only been dating for about four months, but I could already tell by the way Derrick spoke about him that he was head over heels. He was seriously loved up.
He chatted away about his new love with great enthusiasm, and I couldn’t suppress a pang of envy. It didn’t help that he kept mentioning what a great kisser the guy was. Naturally, that conjured up memories of the great kiss of my own, and at one point, I must have sighed as he tilted his head, studying me.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know you said the sexy Mr Rominov was a jerk, and you weren’t interested, but I know you liked him really. Are you really disappointed that he didn’t ask for your number?” he asked, raising his brow in question.
“A little,” I told him truthfully. “But he was a jerk, and so it’s probably for the best,” I said, not quite believing that.
In reality, I had been pining over the situation for the last few days. I had been convinced that he had been just as into the kiss as I had been. He initiated it after all and had been grinding his hips against me in such a way that I couldn’t miss his desire. And his words ‘Sweet. Knew you would be,’ suggested he’d liked my taste as much as I’d enjoyed his.
So, why hadn’t he asked for my name and number? I questioned for the millionth time in the last few days. I must have misunderstood the situation. He couldn’t have been that into it after all. Or maybe he was happy to have a quick kiss with a waitress but wasn’t interested in anything further with one. I couldn’t help feeling hurt and confused over the whole thing. Yet, I also couldn’t get the annoying male out of my head.
If I was as confident as Marcie, I could try to look up the guy’s number myself to contact him and see if he wanted to hook up, but I was nowhere near her level of confidence. The thought of doing such a thing made me nauseous.
He had likely already forgotten all about me anyway. A rich, sexy man like that would have women lined up to kiss him. He was hardly likely to remember me, the clumsy waitress who caused trouble and sassed him one minute and then rolled around on the messy ground with him the next. It hardly made for a good impression. I cringed in embarrassment.
“Besides, he’s a rich Russian businessman. Probably way out of my league,” I told Derrick, unable to shake off my feelings of inadequacy and disappointment.
“Nonsense. That guy would have been lucky to have you,” Derrick huffed, sounding outraged at my comment.
“But you’re right. If the sexy Russian couldn’t see that, then that’s his problem, and he doesn’t deserve you. You need to forget him and move on,” he agreed.
“Maybe you’ll meet a nice young man at the Bell Tavern,” he said, smirking.
“Oh, ha ha. You know I’m not into Daddy Dom’s,” I replied, unable to hold back a grin.
“Well, maybe you should give it a try. Works for me,” Derrick winked and waggled his brows suggestively.
I groaned. Derrick’s new boyfriend was only a couple of years older than his own thirty years, but I guessed that still counted.
“We can’t all be as lucky in love as you,” I said, laughing.
I couldn’t help but hope that, one day soon, I would meet someone nice and manage to speak to the guy long enough to at least get a date and perhaps another kiss… or even something more. I sighed. What a pity that it wouldn’t be with the sexy Russian.
Once again, I lamented my luck that the first guy I’d literally fallen for had to be a Russian jerk who could so easily run off after that sinfully delicious kiss. The rejection of that stung. I huffed; the arrogant, annoying male could keep his sexy Russian accent and those gorgeous grey eyes and that tall, muscular body and that thick dark hair.
Buthe’s just so dreamy.You need to find a way to see him again, my inner devil moaned. I completely ignored her!
“Gotta go, sweetie, things to do, people to see. You enjoy work,” Derrick said, hugging me goodbye.
“Bye,” I shouted and waved as he sauntered off, heading for the tube home with all his purchases, including a lovely Rolex for his ‘daddy’.
I wasn’t sure I could understand the whole daddy thing, but if it worked for him, who was I to judge? Derrick was right about one thing, though: I needed to forget the Russian and move on. The kiss we had may have blown my mind, but it was apparent it hadn’t had quite the same effect on him. So, I needed to put the whole sorry affair of last weekend and one Russian male behind me.
I walked into the Old Bell Tavern and took up my position behind the bar, determined to do just that.
Having made somewhat of a disaster of my waitressing gig, I’d decided to try my hand at bartending again. My old college buddy, Gina, managed a quaint little pub in the centre of London, and I asked me to fill in while they were short-staffed.
It was a good fit for me as I did a bit of bartending during college, so I knew all the basics and didn’t need any training. Also, Marcie, Claire, and I had a regular at-home cocktail night once a month, where Marcie taught us how to make different cocktails, and I was becoming really proficient at making them. Even though the Old Bell Tavern was more of an old man’s type pub and anyone ordering a cocktail was few and far between, bartending was an excellent stop-gap job while I decided what else I was going to do. And, of course, it paid the bills in the meantime.
I’d only started work at the Old Bell Tavern on Monday night but was already getting into the swing of things. I hadn’t had a single incident yet, and as the night wore on, I started to relax into my role. I even found that I was managing to flirt a little with some of the male customers, all in good fun, not seriously of course.
It helped that they were all middle-aged or older, and as I’d already told Derrick, I was definitely not into daddy-dom, so I didn’t get too embarrassed. I sniggered, thinking again about my conversation with Derrick earlier.
“Looking beautiful tonight,” one of the elderly regulars said as I poured him his pint.
