‘Hush. And loosen up, for goodness’ sake. You looked as if you were about to bite that poor woman’s head off. Smile. Act as if you want to be here.’
‘But Idon’twant to be here.’
‘Pretend.’ She gave him a tiny shove. ‘Next date. Go.’
He sat on the next chair and Mallory returned to the bar. ‘I see what’s going on here,’ the barman said. ‘You’re not his chaperone, you’re his trainer.’ He held up a beer-damp bar towel. ‘Want this to dab off his sweat?’
Mallory smirked. ‘Maybe later.’
Alexander’s second date was only marginally better than the first; within sixty seconds, the witch opposite him appeared tohave launched into a full-blown argument over something he’d said.
Mallory passed a hand over her face. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
She checked out date number three: a troll. An extraordinarily beautiful troll, in fact, with a perfectly tailored suit that was as out of place here as Alexander’s. She was observing her current date with faint disgust. Mallory reckoned this would either be another abject failure or an absolute triumph; there would be no in-between.
‘Here.’ The barman placed an electric-blue cocktail in front of her.
Mallory stared at it. ‘I didn’t order this.’
The barman nodded to his right. ‘It’s from the gentleman in the corner.’
She glanced over and noted the good-looking witch who was raising his glass in her direction. Mallory smiled politely.
‘I can’t accept it,’ she told the barman. ‘I’m not drinking alcohol tonight and,’ she gestured to Alexander, ‘I’m working.’ She mouthed a quick thank you and an even quicker sorry to the witch then the bell rang again and her attention was diverted as Alexander moved to the table where the troll was sitting.
Alexander smiled; the troll smiled. She said something and Mallory caught a flash of genuine surprise cross his face, followed by amusement. He laughed, and for the first time looked as if he might be enjoying himself.
Mallory’s stomach dipped with dismay. Damn it: this was what she wanted, right? It was what Alexander wanted – and from the look on the troll’s face it was what she wanted, too. There was no reason for Mallory to feel anything other than delight but deep down she recognised that the sensation uncurling in her belly was absolute, total desolation.
She swallowed hard. Oh God. She’d fallen for Alexander MacTire and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
A voice broke into her thoughts. ‘My drink isn’t good enough for you?’
She stiffened. The witch from the other end of the bar had sidled up to her and was towering over her looking annoyed. ‘It was very kind of you to send it over.’ She smiled. ‘But I’m not drinking tonight.’
The troll leaned towards Alexander then reached up and touched her hair in a time-worn gesture that suggested she liked him. Alexander dipped his head closer to hers.
‘I paid good money for that drink,’ the witch snapped.
‘Please, take it,’ Mallory said. ‘You can drink it, then it won’t go to waste.’
‘I bought it for you.’
‘And I don’t want it,’ she said, without missing a beat.
As Alexander murmured something in the troll’s ear, her lips parted with delight.
‘It’s not the cocktail that’s not good enough for you, is it? You think you’re too good for the likes of me.’
The barman was right there, shoulders pulled back. ‘Sir,’ he said. ‘It’s time for you to leave.’
‘Fuck off!’
The troll’s hand was now on Alexander’s arm and he was smiling at her, his amber eyes twinkling.
‘I’ve got this,’ Mallory told the barman. She looked directly at the witch. ‘I already said no. That’s your cue to walk away. I strongly suggest you do so.’
The witch spat then raised his hand threateningly, magical sparks dancing at his fingertips. The barman stiffened but Mallory had already reached for the blue cocktail so she could toss it in the witch’s face and onto his hands and douse whatever nasty magic he was planning to fling in her direction.
