“Where are you going, all tarted up?” Oliver looked at me over the top of his magazine, a semi-naked woman splayed all over the cover.
“It’s the work Christmas party,” I replied, sliding my phone from my jeans pocket. My taxi was due any minute.
“Oh yeah? There’s someone you’re interested in at work, huh?” Oliver commented casually. I looked up suddenly.
“No, why?” I shot back, a little too icily.
“You’re a terrible liar.” Oliver smirked, turning his attention back to his magazine.
Though I was determined not to cave, I couldn’t deny the nervous excitement in my belly. “I look alright then?”
“I’d fuck ya,” he replied without looking up.
“I’ve seen some of the girls you bring back here. That’s not a compliment.” I glanced at my phone for what felt like the hundredth time. What was taking the taxi so long? I startled as the screen suddenly lit up and my phone began to buzz in my hand.
“I have to go, that’s the taxi.” I quickly checked I had remembered to put money into my wallet and slid it into my jeans pocket alongside my phone. I headed for the door, grabbing my keys as I passed. “Catch you later.”
“Have fun,” Oliver called back.
I slammed the door behind me and hurried down the stairwell. My heart hammered in my chest; my palms sweaty. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was getting myself so worked up about. Everyone from work would be there and Rowan was a married man. I’d be lucky if he even noticed I was there.
Before long, the taxi pulled up outside the Glitterball. It was already bustling with people and a long queue had formed outside. I paid and hopped out onto the street, waiting just a little way away from the entrance, as I had agreed with Becca earlier in the week. I pulled my phone from my pocket. She was late – no surprises there. I shivered, lamenting my choice to not wear a coat.
“We’re on the guest list, darling,” a voice spoke behind me, and a pair of hands grabbed my waist. I jolted with surprise.
“Good, because I’m freezing my balls off!” I replied, teeth chattering. Becca hugged me briefly before we scurried towards the entrance. At the door, Becca shouted something in the bouncer’s ear. The large man looked at his clipboard before nodding and unhooked a red velvet rope for us to pass inside.
Once inside, we were hit by a wall of sweaty heat and blaring music. The place was heaving; you couldn’t even see the bar for all the people gathered around it. Becca tapped my arm, beckoning me forward through the crowds and I followed obediently behind. We wormed our way through the busy club, before Becca tapped my arm again.
“There they are!” she shouted to me, pointing to a group of tacky leather sofas in the far corner. I couldn’t see well through the dimly lit bar, but seeing John knock back a shot made me laugh – and there I’d been, worried Glitterball was an inappropriate choice for the older members of staff!
It was in that moment, being pulled through crowds, that I saw what I’d been excited about all evening. He was laughing with John, sitting beside him on the sofa. Trisha screamed as she spotted us, clearly several drinks in already, drawing the group’s attention to us.
He saw me and I saw him. Soft, pine green eyes sucked me in, and the room seemed to fade away from me. I glanced away, the heat of his gaze making me feel nervous. A cool hand on my arm brought me back to the bustling, sweaty reality.
“Y’want to get a drink?” Becca shouted in my ear, making a ‘drinking’ motion with her hand. I nodded eagerly, forcing myself not to look back at Rowan. At the bar, out of sight of the others, Becca nudged me sharply in the ribs with her elbow. I coughed.
“What was that for?” I laughed, rubbing my side.
“Yousoowe me.” She grinned mischievously. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the way he just looked at you?”
“Not really,” I stammered, and Becca rolled her eyes. I felt my chest contract, suddenly nervous.
“What do you want to drink?” Becca grabbed a sticky, tattered menu from the side of the bar. She pointed a long, manicured finger at a picture of five shot glasses. “Shall we do a platter of shots? It’s five for five pounds.”
“And a beer, thanks.” I nodded, not really listening to what she was saying as my mind struggled to process what had just happened. Perhaps I wasn’t just imagining things after all. My stomach turned over.
A few moments later, Becca made her way cautiously back over to the sofas, holding a tray with ten shots on it. I trailed behind her, holding my beer and her cocktail, ensuring no one in the busy bar knocked into her.
“Christ, they’re not all for you, are they?” Trisha laughed loudly when Becca placed the tray down on the table in the middle of the sofas.
“No,” she shouted back, grinning. “Max too!” She sat down on a small stool and patted the space next to her. I joined her, deliberately not looking where I wanted to look most.
“Go on then you two – I want to see you do them in a row. Five each! I dare ya!” Trisha egged us on, and the other members of staff crowded around, shouting more encouragement.
Becca looked at me and I grinned and shrugged. “What the hell!”
Becca handed me the first of the small, sticky glasses and did a countdown on her fingers.Three, two, one... We both knocked back our shots simultaneously. Before I had a chance to recover from the hot spirit burning down my throat, another shot glass was thrust upon me. Not wanting to disappoint the crowds, we both threw the next one back as well – and the next, and the next... The cheers growing louder the further through the queue of drinks we got.
