Love on the Rocks (Bar Tenders) (16 page)

“Tracy, you’ve only got two arms,” George pointed out.

“One holding something else, then,” Tracy said with a cheeky grin.

“Your butt?” Simon suggested, reaching out with his hands to grip imaginary buttocks. “Tara can walk behind you, cupping your arse.”

Tara laughed. “Thanks.”

They chatted and joked among themselves as they waited for Sam to get back and everyone else to arrive. All the staff lined up along the bar on stools, catching up on gossip. Justin hadn’t seen some of his colleagues for one, or even two weeks. Shifts sometimes meant he ended up working with the same people and totally missing others.

When Sam returned, loaded down with bags from the supermarket and munching on a meat minikebab, he seemed in a better mood. Clearly he’d been hungry, as he demolished the entire bag of meat snacks within minutes.

At half past one, there was a knock on the bar door, only just heard over the cacophony of chatter among the staff. George hurried to the door, his long dreads flying behind him.

“That’ll be Pete with the trainer,” Sam announced. He wagged a warning finger in Tracy and Justin’s directions. “Everyone behave themselves. Make us look good.”

“I always look good,” Tracy quipped back.

Justin grinned at him. “My sentiments exactly.”

When George approached the bar with two men in tow, he set about introducing the area manager, Pete, to the staff. The stranger with them was tall and blond, wearing a fashionable dark jacket, and—

The smile dissolved from Justin’s face as he recognized Eric.

Oh no
.

As the managers all gravitated toward each other and welcomed Eric, Justin felt panic rise in his chest.
Eric?
Of all people was Eric the one to teach them cocktails? Was he still working at Foxy’s, or had he left already?

An elbow nudged into Justin’s arm, as Tara widened her eyes at him. “Is that…?” she whispered.

Justin nodded, but motioned for her to keep schtum. The last thing he wanted was for their colleagues to know that Justin was already acquainted. Things could get awkward fast.

The others were still chatting among themselves anyway, as Sam walked Eric around the bar. Butterflies fluttered in Justin’s stomach as he shrank lower in his seat and willed Eric not to recognize him.

“Right,” Sam declared, waiting for his staff to quiet down. “Most of you have met Pete before.” He nodded at their area manager, who’d sat down at the bar and raised a hand in salute. “And this is Eric, who’ll be going through the cocktail menu with us. Then you’ll all get a turn.”

Justin blanched. This was getting worse. And yet, he wasn’t entirely sure why he felt so worried. It wasn’t like he’d known Eric was coming today or planned to see Eric. He was being paranoid.

“Thanks, Sam.” Eric smiled warmly and shrugged out of his jacket. Underneath he wore a smart, chocolate brown shirt, slightly open at the collar and looking very sexy. As Eric put his jacket aside, and looked at the staff with a devastating smile, Justin swore he heard all the girls sigh audibly.

“Shall we start with names?” Eric said. “I’ll do my best to remember, but feel free to scold me if I get them wrong.” He busied himself charming Lauren and Nina first, asking their names. Justin’s heart started thumping.

Calm down. Calm down
.

They went along the bar, each person stating their names. When Tara said hers softly, Justin was convinced Eric would recognize her, but there didn’t even seem to be a flicker in his eyes.

Then it was Justin’s turn. He tried to say his name as nonchalantly as he could manage, meeting Eric’s eyes only to be polite. Once again, Justin’s brain noted how handsome Eric was—the swept-back blond hair showing off chiseled features, the soft pout of his lips… and the knowing smile that spread across them. So he
had
recognized Justin. But aside from a lingering moment looking at Justin, he didn’t acknowledge anything else, and moved on to Simon.

Justin was relieved. Maybe he could get away with remaining professional after all.

T
HE
COCKTAIL
lessons were actually interesting, but Justin found them distracting simply because Eric was the one teaching. He tried to concentrate, he really did. Except his mind kept wandering off, posing difficult questions to Justin’s growing paranoia: was Yena still hung up on Eric?
Look at him!
Justin’s mind repeated. Just look at him, he was an exceptional specimen of manhood if ever there was one. Confident behind the bar, charming, and handsome. The girls—and even the guys—watched him attentively and laughed at his jokes.

Justin tried not to feel swept up by it. The more charming he found Eric, the more inadequate he felt in comparison.

Then Eric had them come up one by one to make a cocktail. Justin was equally dreading and strangely anticipating his turn. When it came, he got the margarita. Jokes about George and the fresh lime wedges erupted from the others as Justin walked around the bar and came to stand next to Eric.

Justin wasn’t sure what he was expecting from his lesson, as his mind flitted back to when Yena had been teaching him at home and the kisses they’d shared after.

Focus, Justin
.

Nerves made his heart pound again, as everyone watched him attempt to mix the drink. Thankfully he remembered most of it, and only had to be reminded to add the sugar syrup.

“Good,” Eric praised, standing close behind him.

It was a small bar; Justin was used to having all his colleagues wedged up against him. But then Eric’s hand pressed against the small of his back, and
that
made Justin tense.

Was he just being friendly, or…?

Who cares? Ignore him and finish the cocktail.

When he closed the shaker over the glass, Eric praised him and said to keep going. Justin picked it up and shook. Droplets of margarita sloshed out, but he kept going. Eric stepped in even closer, and Justin paused.

“Position your hands like this,” he said, in a low and sexy voice that hit Justin right in the loins. He placed his warm fingers over Justin’s, encouraging them to move. “Cradle the shaker; it reduces the chance of it flying away, and hopefully keeps leaks in more.”

“Oh-kay,” Justin mumbled, preparing to shake again.

“Yeah, Justin always leaks,” Tracy quipped. Which was true, Justin hadn’t quite got the hang of a watertight cocktail shake yet.

After shaking came the pouring, and Justin’s hands trembled. He knew he wasn’t the only one nervous about making cocktails, though he suspected his reasons were different from everyone else’s.

“That’s good,” Eric said, seeming happy. That hand was back again, resting on Justin’s back. It felt hot and large.
God
. “Well done. Now taste the drink.” He handed Justin a small straw, flashing him a smile and a wink.

It caught Justin off guard, and he wasn’t sure why he felt guilty for smiling back.

Relax,
he told himself. Taking his drink, he retreated from the bar and was relieved to let someone else step into the spotlight.

All in all, demonstrating and practicing the entire menu took a little over two hours. Sam had already prepped the bar and turned on the music to a soft, chilled level, and at 3 p.m., he opened the doors to the public.

One old man wandered in.

The rest of the staff were still sipping the cocktails they’d made themselves, excitedly chattering. As most of them were smokers, the inevitable cigarette packets and rolling tobacco were brought out. Justin glanced around. Eric and George were cleaning away the mess that’d been made, chatting as they did so.

Tara put on her jumper, and Justin asked her, “Are we still going shopping after this?”

They both needed to buy a birthday present for Tara’s mum.

“Yes, let me smoke this.” Tara held her rollie aloft. “And we’ll go eat something too. I’m starved.”

“Okay.” Justin resigned to wait. Hopefully Nina, the only other nonsmoker, would shuffle down the bar and keep him company.

But Nina was already putting her jacket on, saying she had to meet her boyfriend.

As they all got up en masse, Justin made an executive decision and got up to use the toilet. He didn’t want to be a Billy-no-mates at the bar. Hopefully Eric would be gone by the time he came back.

The toilets were through a door and down a dark, narrow corridor. They were unisex, and usually smelled damp because of the leaking cisterns. Justin went upstairs instead, to use the other set of toilets, which weren’t as leaky.

He took his time, marveling that there was actually soap in the soap dispenser when he went to wash his hands. He checked his reflection in the mirror and then took his phone from his pocket.

No messages.

The last one he’d got from Yena had been two days ago, when he’d said he was on his way to Croydon. Likely he was caught up dealing with whatever was going on at his parents’ house, Justin reasoned. Still, it hurt some that he hadn’t replied since.

Should Justin send another message? Saying what? Hope all was well… or something like that? Justin winced. He didn’t want to be annoying, especially if Yena was busy. He could wait it out; Yena had said only four days. That meant he’d be back in two, and he’d have a day off from work soon.

Or so Justin hoped.

He put his phone away and trudged back downstairs. In the gloom, he received a surprise. There was someone loitering at the bottom of the stairs, checking his phone in the semidarkness.

Eric
.

Justin paused on the stairs and then made himself keep walking.
Act natural,
he told himself. Eric had obviously just used the downstairs toilets, and was now checking his phone. That’s all it was.

Except when Eric glanced up and smiled at him, Justin had to wonder.

“Hey,” Eric greeted. “What’s upstairs?”

“Er, more toilets,” Justin said. He’d reached the last step and wondered how long he should stop and engage in chat for before it was deemed polite to leave. “I prefer the upstairs ones ’cause they smell a bit nicer.”

“Ah.” Eric’s smile seemed good-natured, and he pocketed his phone. “Yes, I admit, I’m used to nicer toilets. There was a private one for staff at Foxy’s, but,” he added, looking directly at Justin, “it was a bit cramped for anything more exciting, if you know what I mean.”

“Er….” Justin’s mind raced away, although he wasn’t picturing himself with Eric, having sex in a cramped toilet stall; his mind provided the image of Eric and Yena engaged in the act.

Had they had sex at work? Justin reeled at the thought, and jealousy flared in him, heating his face.

Suddenly he didn’t want to talk to Eric any longer.

“Yeah, well.” Justin moved to walk past, but Eric quickly placed a hand on the wall, blocking Justin’s escape.

“How’s the space upstairs?” Eric asked, his voice low and seductive.

The display of dominance was admittedly a little thrilling, yet all it managed to do right now was irritate Justin, so he snapped, “Look, mate, I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Which was a lie, but it was the nicest rejection Justin could come up with in the heat of the moment.

Eric didn’t seem swayed. He grinned—leered, actually—at Justin. “Oh, you don’t? Want me to show you, Justin?”

Staring back at him in utter surprise, Justin was almost too taken aback to reply.

Seriously?

But when Eric’s hand left the wall and tried to drape over Justin’s shoulder, it snapped him back to reality. “Leave it out, Eric,” Justin said firmly. He ducked under the arm blockade and made for the door, charging through and not bothering to hold it for Eric.

Seriously? I mean, seriously!

As he walked back into the bar, Justin was in shock. Did people actually behave like that in real life? Like some kind of sleazy praying mantis?

Fucking cheek.

Indignation and nerves warred inside Justin, so he quickly went outside to find sanctuary with the smokers. He’d just have to hold his breath for a while, he reasoned, as they all puffed away.

And take another shower when he got home.

A few minutes later, Eric appeared. He was wearing his jacket, and Justin hoped he wasn’t going to stay for a cigarette.

“Well,” he said, bestowing a smile on the rest of the staff. “It was great to meet you all. Good luck whipping up those cocktails.”

A chorus of thank yous and good-byes trilled round, and Justin forced a tight smile.

Yeah, piss off, Eric
.

As if hearing his thoughts, Eric shot Justin an icy look before turning on his heel to walk away. Justin stared at his retreating back until he’d reached the end of the alley and disappeared around the corner.

And good riddance too
.

Chapter Fourteen

M
IGRATING
UP
Camden Road and into the popular stables markets, Justin and Tara agreed to stop for food before they commenced present buying. In the bustling food court, surrounded by different stalls selling food, refreshments, and also gifts, they perused the different cuisines on offer. Vendors called out to them in different accents, seemingly desperate for them to try tasters.

As locals, Justin and Tara politely ignored them, and concentrated on their decision. “Think I’ll have Chinese,” Tara said. “I’m going to be naughty.”

Justin was torn. “I can never make up my mind,” he admitted. “And all of this is bad for me.”

“If we’re both naughty, it’s okay,” Tara said with a wink. She moved off to queue at the Chinese stall.

Snorting, Justin called after her, “Yeah, we’ll both jog home then, to work it off.”

“I have a date later,” Tara called back, fishing out her wallet. “I intend to be working it off.”

“Oh.” Justin smiled wryly.
All right for some
. He stifled a sigh, made a snap decision to have Mexican, and moved into their queue.

Food purchased and in take-away containers, they found an unoccupied bench with a table and sat down.