Love on the Rocks (Bar Tenders) (19 page)

“But, Mum—”

“We haven’t seen you perform for a while now, Justin.”

“You saw me two months ago!” he argued, hand wringing his hair. “Mum, I think there’s gonna be tits and arse in this show. Not
mine
, but girls and stuff. Are you sure Dad can handle it?”

She snorted. “Justin, your father and I have seen shows that would make you blush. I’m sure we can handle some cabaret in order to see our son perform.”

Justin groaned inwardly. “Okay,” he conceded. “Well, I should have a phone by then. I’ll try and text you what time I’m on and the like.”

“Don’t worry about us,” she said. “We’ll enjoy the show and stick around after for a drink with you. You know how your father likes to unwind after a show.”

Now Justin snorted. “As long as he doesn’t get up onstage and try to show us how it’s done.”

They shared a laugh. “That was
one
time,” she said, “and only because he’d been mixing his drinks. Now he sticks to one sort, or he’ll answer to me.”

Wise man,
Justin thought. “All right, Mum. I’ll see you and Dad on Saturday, then.”

“Yes, you will. Good-bye, dear.”

“Bye.” Justin rang off and placed the phone on his bed. He smothered his face into his pillows and groaned loudly.

“What’s wrong?” Tara asked, coming into the room. When Justin looked up, he saw her holding two coffee mugs.

“My parents are coming to my show on Saturday night,” Justin groused.

“Ooh, Uncle Jules?” She grinned, sitting down carefully on Justin’s bed. She handed him a mug of coffee.

“Last time they came to one of my shows,” Justin told her, “Dad ended up backstage flirting with the female performers, and Mum got in a strop with him.”

Tara giggled. “Oh, dear.”

“Yeah.” Justin sipped his coffee. “And then he’ll try to get people doing his Elvis dance.”

“Everyone loves his Elvis dance,” Tara said.

“Yeah, I know,” Justin grumbled. “He only has to curl his lip and say
‘Uh-huh-huh’
to upstage me.”

Tara laughed hard and then had to steady her mug in order not to spill any coffee. “Oh, bless Uncle Jules! Justin, I’ve never seen you in such a grump. Are you still upset about this boy?”

Justin felt the dark cloud of his mood darken even more. It took everything he had not to snap at Tara about it. He knew he was being cranky, and sighed. “I think I’ve blown it, Tar.”

“I’m sure you haven’t,” she said. “Wait till he gets back, and talk to him then. You could go to Foxy’s and see him in person.”

Justin winced. “No, I can’t show my face in there. He won’t want to talk to me.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t….”

“Well, then.” Tara paused to sip her coffee. “Justin, you’re worrying too much. Give the guy a break. You said yourself he’s probably worried about his dad being in hospital.”

“I
know
.” Justin groaned. He felt awful about the entire situation. “That’s why I’m so mad at myself for getting shitty with him.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Tara said. “From what you told me, you both got the wrong end of the stick. And the one good thing is that when he does come back, that troublemaker boss of his won’t be there anymore.”

“He wasn’t the boss,” Justin corrected her. “But, yeah, you’re right about that. I can’t imagine how crappy it was to work with a dick like that.”

“Exactly. I’m sure Yena will be fine when he gets back to work.”

At the sound of his name, Justin deflated all over again. “That is assuming his dad is well.”

Tara hummed in thought. “Yes, that’s a point. But it’s out of your control, Justin. All you need to do is be a good friend to him when he’s back.”

Justin blinked in thought and then nodded his head. “I can do that. Yeah. That’s what I’ll do.”

“Of course you will.” She rubbed his arm affectionately. “Because you’re a good friend and a wonderful person.”

Justin turned to regard her warily. “What do you want, Tara?”

She grinned at him. “Cover my shift tonight?”

He groaned. “Why?”

“Because I have another date with a gorgeous man!”

Another groan. “God. If I must.”

Tara squealed in delight and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Justin. I promise to tell you all the juicy details.”

He grumbled in reply. “At least one of us should get lucky, I suppose.”

B
LISSFULLY
,
THE
Soho Revue Bar was easy to get to. No trekking out to the middle of nowhere and getting mugged this time, so Justin hoped. He didn’t have a phone now anyway, nor much cash on him. The most valuable items in his black leatherette shopping bag were his costume and platforms, and Tam would kill him if he lost those.

Justin left the rush-hour-packed tube and exited at Leicester Square. The venue was within walking distance, but he wanted to make a stop in Chinatown for a bubble milk tea. It was around six, and he had some time. The sky was still light, tinged with orange as the sun set. The bustle of Chinatown kept Justin occupied, and he went to find the tiny, hole-in-the-wall café that served the delicious drink.

A pretty Oriental girl served him. Speaking little to no English, she communicated through smiles, and by allowing Justin to point at a menu. He chose a coconut-flavored tea and straight up tapioca pearls. None of those fruity ones.

Drink in hand, Justin hefted his bags onto his shoulder once more and set off. The evening stroll through Chinatown was pleasant amid the sights and smells of so many restaurants. Justin side-stepped tourists and picked up his pace, eager to get to the venue.

The Soho Revue bar was nestled down a narrow alleyway, flanked by strip clubs and sex shops. More clubs, bars, and late night cafés lined the bigger street nearby, with an organic frozen yogurt shop, of all the things, standing proud on the street corner.

Knocking on the nondescript, blacked-out doors to the venue, Justin waited to be let in. Later, this area would be sectioned off by velvet ropes for the smokers, with big, burly bouncers minding the door to keep things contained.

The door was opened by a woman dressed in a smart trouser suit, wearing vintage fifties glasses and bright red lipstick. The way she’d styled and quaffed her hair perfectly reminded Justin of his mother.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” She smiled at him. “Are you performing?” she asked, glancing at his bags.

“Yep. Dancing Queens.”

“Oh, wonderful.” She beamed widely and opened the door fully to let him inside. “I do believe your partner is already here.”

“Er, oh, right.” Justin wasn’t worried if this woman had meant
dancing
partner, or if she thought he and Tam were an item. He didn’t particularly care. “Yeah, he said he’d meet me here.”

“Let me take you through.” She locked the door after them and took off at a brisk walk. Her high heels thudded softly on the thick red carpet. Justin hurried after her, his sneakers quiet. “I must say,” she said, leading him up the stairs, then down a hallway, “I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight. Mark has raved about you.”

“Oh?” Justin was pleasantly surprised. He suspected she meant Mark Malone, the promoter Tam had been trying to chat up for months now. “That’s good. Hopefully we won’t disappoint you.”

The hallway had windows on either side, and a brief glance out showed a prime view of the Soho alleyway below. The various lights of the sex shops glittered in the dimming light.

“I’m sure you’ll be fabulous,” the lady declared with spirit. Justin was surprised she hadn’t added
“darling”
to the end of that.

“You ain’t seen us live, yet,” he quipped, following her through another set of doors and into the venue. Justin had been here before, but it was nice of her to escort him in. The venue itself was a medium-sized space, an old interior decked out with modern furnishings. Tier seating, black leather seats—easier to wipe down—and a flashy, new bar all the way at the back.

There was an area to stand in front of the stage, which itself was rather small, but made up for its lack of space by being well presented, traditional in style with a thick, black velvet curtain and gleaming, polished surfaces. All in all, it gave the impression of being grand in a timeless way, and for that Justin was rather fond of it.

Backstage sucked, though.

The woman, who told him her name was Renee, whisked him past the stage, into a cream-painted corridor where the toilets were. She gestured at the backstage door. It was already open, with eager chatter spilling out of it. One glance inside showed a riot of costumes, props, and girls half dressed. Justin took a deep breath, thanked Renee for looking after him, and dived into the dressing room.

“Was that Renee?” A buxom brunette, dressed only in white lacy underwear, leaped past Justin and called Renee’s name.

A girl at the mirror paused in her make-up application to roll her eyes. “She shouldn’t keep asking Renee to put so many people on the guest list. How’s she think we’ll make any money?”

The girl next to her, sprinkling glitter onto her ample bust and collarbone, snorted. “Cherry’s not one for thinking.”

Justin pretended he couldn’t hear the bitching and plastered on a smile. He said a quick round of hellos to performers he recognized and those he hadn’t met before. It usually paid to be nice to girls one had to share a dressing room with.

Tam wasn’t to be seen, but his bags were present. Justin was thankful Tam had procured some precious space and even a chair to sit on. After standing up at work all day, Justin was thrilled at the prospect of sitting down. He placed Tam’s bags on the floor, followed by his own, and sank into the chair with relief. He still had half his drink left, so he sipped at that as he pondered what to do next. The chatter and gossip of the room went in one ear and out the other.

By the time Tam returned, Justin hadn’t moved. Usually he was a bit more lively than this, but tonight he couldn’t muster the energy. Tam crashed into the room with a girl on his arm, a performer with voluptuous curves, dressed in ruffled pants, a sequined bra, and a silver wig. Justin recognized her and remembered how loud she got when drunk.

He tried not to feel grumpier than he already did. The show must go on, as his dad always said, and he knew how Tam had been looking forward to being on this bill.

Extracting himself from the female, Tam hurried over to Justin, stepping over clothes, high heels, and performers alike on the floor. “So exciting!” he hissed in a whisper, dropping to Justin’s side. “Veronica and I had a drink with Mark. He’s such a gent.” Tam’s eyes sparkled with interest. “I think I’ll shag him.”

Justin’s eyes widened, asking the silent question.

Tam brushed it off. “It’ll be fine. We’ll keep it strictly professional.”

“So, he’s gay, then?” Justin was vaguely interested. If it meant no more shows in sodding Shoreditch, he was all for Tam getting friendly with promoters.

“I reckon he’s bi,” Tam whispered back. “You know he’s actually married to Renee?”

“
What?
” This time Justin couldn’t contain his surprise.

Tam shushed him, glancing warily around the dressing room. “Pretty sure they’re swingers too,” he hissed. “She was all over me when I arrived earlier, and I definitely got
the vibe
.”

Justin didn’t think his eyebrows could get any higher. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised; maybe because he’d likened Renee to his mother, or perhaps because he wasn’t really with it at the moment.

As Tam drew breath to speak again, Justin beat him to it. “Before you ask, don’t even think about dragging me into it.”

Tam chuckled. “Keep your balls on, darling. I know you’re not into that scene. I wasn’t even going to go there. If I can get Mark on his own, I’m up for it. But I’m not getting involved in a three way with two promoters.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Moving swiftly on! Your friend Chi Chi should be coming tonight.”

“Huh?” Justin frowned in confusion. “Chi Chi?”

“Yes,” Tam said, settling down to sit on the floor. “Your little tattooed friend from Brighton that does the Hula-Hooping. She’s been messaging me, asking why you weren’t responding to texts. I told her you were a mug who got mugged. She said she’s coming tonight. Oh!” Tam reached for his bag. “That reminds me, I have the phone for you.”

“Is Chi Chi performing, then?” Justin asked.

“Haven’t a clue,” Tam muttered. “Seeing as she’s a performer, I’d say that’s a safe bet.”

Justin rolled his eyes, and sipped at his drink. Tam rummaged around in his bag, finally bringing out a small phone with a crow of triumph. He handed it to Justin, who raised an eyebrow at it skeptically. It was new, but it was cheap, all thick and blocky, in a matte black color.

In fact, it looked more like one of the old calculators they’d had in school.

Tam cleared his throat. “You’re
welcome
, Justin.”

“Thanks, Tam.”

“As I said, you’re welcome.”

Justin set his drink aside and examined the phone.

“It’s already on,” Tam informed him. “The battery is full, and I have the charger for you as well. It’s got my old contacts in there, but seeing as we have mutual friends, I thought that would be useful.”

Justin nodded absently. The one number he was desperate for wouldn’t be on there, sadly. Even the scrap of paper that Yena had written his number on weeks ago hadn’t been able to help him; Justin had accidentally washed it in his trouser pocket. He should’ve stored it away safely, but instead he’d kept the paper on him like a sentimental fool. Now it wasn’t even paper, just white crumbs.

Typical of his luck, Justin thought.

He set about texting his mother. That was one number he knew by heart. He wished he’d had the foresight to memorize Yena’s number. He definitely knew the last couple of digits, but without the others, that wasn’t much good.

“Justin.” Tam leaned into him, watching him text. “You’re not going to be a moody ball beg all night, are you?”

Justin smiled at that. “I’ll try not to. I’ve been at work all day, remember. Some of us don’t have Saturdays off.”