Chapter Two

Alex

H e looked irritated when I reached him. “I thought you’d forgotten me,” he said, putting his phone down.

“No. Sorry,” I said. I placed his drink down and he reached for it so quickly, he touched my fingers.

“Sorry,” he said without looking at me before taking a gulp. I guess he’d decided alcohol was the only way to go tonight, and who could blame him.

“Your bill.” I placed the saucer down.

“Thanks.”

“Do you need the card machine?”

“Yes.” I saw him wince. “God, that’s strong.”

I hurried away. Shit, I would have to confess it was a double. I could get into serious trouble for giving a customer a double when he asked for a single. What if he was driving and ended up being too pissed to control his car?

Oh God, what a bad mistake. What had I been thinking? I snatched the card reader off the bar and hurried back with my stomach in knots. He had the bill open. He glanced up as I arrived.

“You haven’t put this on.” He gestured to his drink. “There’s only one drink on here.”

“It’s on the house,” I said, with my cheeks flaming.

He frowned. “What?”

“A gift. To put a smile on your face.” I shrivelled mentally. He was about as far from smiling as a person could get.

“What?” he said again, staring at me. “Are you allowed to give away free drinks to customers?”

Oh God, enough with the Spanish inquisition! “No,” I said.

He kept those jewelled eyes on mine. “So… are you going to get in trouble?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“No?”

Fuck, leave me alone! “ I bought you it,” I blurted. “It’s a double. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to get you drunk! I felt sorry for you! Please don’t drive home. You might kill someone.” Oh fuck, someone just kill me now.

He was completely still. I couldn’t look into those amazing eyes anymore. I lowered my head and shuffled my feet and waited for him to call Max, or the fucking owner and tell him his waiter had given him a double for some nefarious purpose unclear to him. He was so silent, that I ended up looking up and saw him glance at the bill again.

“It’s twenty-five pounds,” he said.

Again, I shrivelled. He may as well have said I couldn’t afford it. I mean, I could, because tips were astronomical so far tonight and it was only nine p.m. Before I could splutter a response, he said, “It’s too much.”

I swallowed.

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me,” he went on. “I’m not a charity case.”

My face flamed. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry,” he said.

“But I am. What do you want me to say?” The conversation was getting away from me. I felt like I might be about to cry.

He took another drink. “It’s really bloody strong,” he said. “Just what I need.”

My breath caught in my throat. I tapped the bill amount into the reader with an unsteady finger. He reached a wallet from his inside pocket and withdrew a card. I saw it was nothing fancy. I expected some platinum American Express or whatever the fuck millionaires carried. I saw a range of cards here at the restaurant that made my eyes water. It was a Barclays debit card, the same as mine. Maybe he was the same as me. Maybe he cleaned his own house and went shopping at Aldi like me. Okay, maybe not. My stomach turned to mush, my bones to water. I wanted to kiss him. “Stay,” I blurted.

He paused, about to hold the card to the reader. “What?”

“Don’t go home hungry just because some arsehole stood you up. We have some amazing specials on tonight.” I gestured wildly at the board across the room.

He regarded me. “I’m a vegan. I didn’t even want to come here, because I knew I’d end up with a green salad and a dry bread roll if I was lucky.”

I shook my head. “Nooo,” I said, drawing out the vowel like a cow. “Let me bring you our vegan menu.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You have a vegan menu?”

“Yes. Please, don’t move.” I ran off. Max was making up a massive drinks order at the bar when I scuttled behind it and grabbed a menu.

“What are you doing?”

“He’s staying,” I gabbled breathlessly.

“He is?”

“Yeah.” I rushed back, expecting to see an empty table. I had left the card reader, so he could have tapped his card and done one, but no, he was still there sipping his ridiculous drink. “There.” I presented it with a flourish worthy of Basil Fawlty.

He took it, staring down for a few seconds. “Hmm,” he said. “Not bad at all.”

I whipped my iPad out of the front pocket of my apron and stood there on tenterhooks. Please order, please, please. Just stay a bit longer so I can admire you some more. Please, God, make him stay.

He looked up.

“What can I get you?”

He smiled for the first time. His teeth were pearly and straight, but didn’t look like he’d had them done in Turkey. Nothing about him seemed fake and manufactured. His was a natural beauty down to the crow’s feet around his eyes and the silver in his hair. “You’re very persistent,” he said.

I blushed.

“Getting me to soak up the alcohol so I don’t crash my car and sue you?”

I gaped at him.

“I’m joking. I’m not driving.”

I let out my breath.

“I’ll take the mushroom stroganoff,” he said.

I tapped the iPad with a trembling finger. “Okay.”

“But you’re not paying for the drink. Put it on the bill.”

I gulped and eyed him.

“I’ll buy you one. You seem like you need it.” He smiled again. “Go and choose whatever you want.”

My breath was caught in my chest. I looked over at the bar and saw Max gawping. “Do you…” I stopped and cleared my throat. “Do you want a starter?”

“No. Just that. Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir . I haven’t got a knighthood. I’m just some bloke you’ve got the misfortune to have to serve on Christmas Eve.”

I stared at him. “Trust me when I say it’s not a misfortune,” I said, holding his gaze.

This time he blushed. And I loved it. Really fucking loved it. I think I was in love. He smiled again. He really knew how to take a compliment. “Go and get your drink,” he said.

“Okay,” I said and walked away. All the way to the bar, my heart soared somewhere into the stratosphere. When I got there, Max gaped at me.

“Fuck me, you’ve been chatting him up, haven’t you?”

“No.”

“You have. You were over there a very long time and he was smiling. I’m not sure he ever smiles judging by the photos we saw of him.”

I sighed. “He’s really nice.”

Max nudged me. “Good on you.”

“He doesn’t want me to pay for his drink. He told me to get myself one.”

Max grinned. “What do you want? I think you should have champagne.”

I looked at him aghast. “I’m not going to take champagne from a customer, Max!”

“Why not?”

“He would be appalled.”

“Why? Just a glass. I’ve just opened a bottle.”

I shook my head and ducked to the fridge. “I’ll take a beer.” I reached out a bottle and flipped the top off. When I glanced over, Lucas was looking at me. I raised the bottle to him. He raised his glass in return. I grinned like an idiot.

“Shit, he likes you,” Max said in admiration.

A warm glow enveloped me. I took a long drink and burped. Then I remembered I had other tables to wait on and hurried off.

The beer had gone to my head. I hadn’t eaten before my shift due to frantically wrapping Christmas presents. The booze gave me a warm glow, and I felt more festive than I had ever done so far this month. It wasn’t the booze; it was him. A little voice inside asked me if it was his money giving me a warm glow. I was confident about my answer. I saw customers here that probably made ten times what he did in a year. Occasionally I got asked out. I turned them all down because I didn’t fraternize with customers, no matter how much money they had. And usually, they were arseholes. He was an exception. I would fraternize with him until the cows came home if he let me. There was something about him beyond his movie star good looks. The hint of vulnerability after what we’d read about him online, ratcheted up further by his humiliation here tonight. His word, not mine. He didn’t need to feel humiliated. He should just have been grateful he hadn’t wasted his time on someone who didn’t deserve him. Did I deserve him? I didn’t have an answer to that question but I’m a good and honest person and I don’t treat people badly. The age gap was an issue though, as was my job. Who was I kidding? He was just being polite. Buying me a drink didn’t mean he wanted to go to bed with me.

My spirits had sunk low by the time I was called to the kitchen for service. Two steaming plates waited, one with the mushroom stroganoff, the other with some garlic bread accompaniment. I would still happily kiss him, garlic or no garlic. The meal looked and smelled amazing and I beamed in delight at Chef, receiving a scowl in reply. Now there was a woman with no social skills.

I whisked it out to his table. He was on his phone talking. “I might drop in,” I heard him say. “I’ll let you know. Got to go.” He hung up and shoved the mobile into his jacket pocket. He had been frowning but his expression relaxed as I approached.

“Mushroom stroganoff,” I announced.

“Thank you.”

I put both plates down and noticed his glass was empty. “Another drink?”

“You really are trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?” he asked.

I blushed. God, I had never blushed so much in my whole life before tonight. “No.”

He looked amused. “A single this time, please. And some water. And get yourself another.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“’Course you could. It’s Christmas.” The word made him grimace.

“Not a fan?”

He laid his serviette on his lap and shook his head, tight-lipped.

“I’ll get you your drink. Oh, would you like some black pepper?”

“No, thanks.”

“Okay. Be right back.”

He wasn’t the only one who disliked Christmas. The work during December was just insane. Not that I should complain with the amount of tips I made, but still, I needed a bloody month off after to recover. Maybe he felt the same. I guess he sold a lot of underwear at this time of year. The idea made my mind wander again. Him in his own underwear. Mmm. Once he was nothing but a distant memory after tonight, I could stalk the hell out of him online in the hopes of catching some images of him undressed.

“Another for table three, please, Max,” I said when I got to the bar. I poured a jug of water, added some ice and set it on the tray with a tumbler. Then I took another drink of my beer, finishing the bottle.

“He’s going to be rolling out of here,” Max said.

“A single this time,” I told him.

“Shall I put a double in, you bad boy?” He grinned at me.

“No, you shouldn’t!” I gasped out.

“You might have to put him in a taxi anyway,” Max said. “Even see him to his door. Perhaps help him undress.”

I stared at him until we both started laughing. “Will you stop? What do you take me for?”

“A bloke who hasn’t been laid since last Christmas.”

It said a lot about Max as a person that he knew these details about me, considering he was my boss and considering he was straight. But he was down with the gays. Perhaps too down. I thought maybe he was bi, which was okay by me. “Yeah, well,” I muttered, watching Lucas eat his mushroom stroganoff as Max made the drink, “I’m sure the next time won’t be at his hands. I’m his waiter, not the models he probably fucks every night.”

“He’s here alone and he never goes out. He probably gets his end away even less than you do.”

I said nothing as Max put the drink on my tray. By rights, a man like that should have been getting all the cock he could eat. I smoothed my hair down and picked up the tray, heading for Lucas’s table.

“Gin and tonic,” I said, placing down his glass. “Water.” I added the jug and the tumbler.

“Thanks.”

“Is everything okay with your meal?”

“It’s excellent. My compliments to the chef.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He scowled.

“Sorry. Mr. Rainford.”

“Not Mr. Rainford either,” he said. “That’s my dad. Lucas.”

“Of course.” I bowed like he was royalty and backed away. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no wonder I never got laid.