“Two years?”
Keren nodded.
“Two years since you last, you know, had a non-self-induced orgasm?”
“Keep your voice down, Ells, and actually, it’s two years since I was last on a date. It’s more than two years since anyone saw me naked. Apart from Rayah. When we were on holiday,” Keren said, watching Abby create heaven behind the bar.
“Abs, what’s the longest you’ve gone without sex?” Sorrell said, a little too loudly to be comfortable.
Keren checked to make sure that Oliver wasn’t here yet.
Abby strained the drinks through a sieve. “I think I’m almost at the three-year mark.”
Keren frowned. Abby got hit on nightly. She was one of those hatefully stunning creatures who was tall and willowy, with a toned figure and ash blonde hair that wasn’t from a bottle.
“Three years?”
“Yep,” Abby said. “Not for the lack of offers, but honestly, I’ve met one man I’m interested in and he isn’t interested in me.”
“Who?”
Keren wondered which number martini this was for Sorrell. Her tolerance level was low.
“He shall remain anonymous as, yes, you both know him, so now you can play guessing games with Rayah,” Abby said. “And as much as I meet men, all they see is a blonde with boobs who serves them drinks.”
“It isn’t your broodingly gorgeous boss, is it?” Sorrell said.
Definitely not sober, Keren thought.
Abby shook her head. “We kissed once. It was awful. Felt like I was kissing my brother. And that beard. Beard’s aren’t for me. I’m on team scruff.” She placed the cocktails in front of them.
“So we’re looking for a non-bearded man with very bad taste in women?” Keren said.
Abby shrugged. “There might’ve been another reason than Scott why I’m off beards. But you’ll never know. Speaking of the devil…”
Keren turned around and nearly fell off her bar stool. The object of her non-affection was walking through the door wearing black trousers and a white shirt fitted enough to showcase those wretched biceps and that tapered waist.
Keren turned back round to the bar, completely ignoring him. “Why. Is. He. Here?” She was sure the whisper would be quiet enough for him not to hear.
“Last I heard, you were a dentist and not a restauranteur,” Scott said, taking the bar stool on the opposite side of Sorrell. “And I wasn’t aware you’d booked out the whole fucking restaurant.”
Sorrell wobbled off her bar stool and glared at her boyfriend’s brother, bringing up her finger to wag it. “Look, Scotty. She’s here on a date, as are you. You either stop the bullshit babbling now or I put both of you out in a field with the alpacas and serve your dates instead. Do you both understand?”
Keren’s skin crawled with the intensity of his gaze.
“I’m good with that. More than happy to not speak with him again,” Keren said. “And for the record, what I said was not meant to be heard by him.”
Scott shrugged. “More than happy to do the same. Could I have a martini, Abby? Stirred rather than shaken.”
“Dirty?” Abby said, looking completely unfazed by the comments, but then, Keren supposed she saw it all.
“That’d be great. Thank you,” Scott said, checking his phone. “Unlike my brothers, I’m always early.”
“So’s Keren,” Sorrell said, back on her stool. “Women are meant to be slightly late for dates, but Key here has understood the term to be fashionable early.”
Keren smiled at Sorrell, avoiding looking anywhere near Scott. “I was born early. Still waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.”
“What time was Keren’s date due here?” Scott asked Sorrell. “I was wondering if she’d been stood up.”
