“Good.” He said nothing else, striding straight inside and to the back of the bar, before I lost sight of him to the darkness.
I left my seat and followed him, or not him exactly, but I went into the bar to find Lara. She was sitting on a barstool, chatting to the guy serving, a cocktail already in front of her.
“This is my sister.” She patted the barstool next to her. “This is Rico. He’s just started work here.” She gave him the smile that ensured she’d be served first in a crowd. “This is Jameson. We’re both here for the summer.”
“Hi.” My smile matched Lala’s. Rico was cute, probably the same age as us or a little bit younger, and I suspected he’d pretty much always lived on the island or one of the Balearics. “Just so you know, my sister’s paying our bar bill today.”
His grin was cheeky, a panty-dropper. “I’ll make sure you get the most expensive cocktails then.”
“I’m sure your boss will approve of that.” I looked towards the door at the back of the bar. “Was that him who just walked through?”
“Tommy? Yeah, he runs the place. He’s the main man.” Rico’s eyes hovered to the door. “He trains all the bar staff to make the cocktails and approves any new ones.”
“He doesn’t look like a bartender.”
Lala laughed. “You took a good look then. Maybe you’re not dead from the waist down after all.” She eyed me up and down.
Rico shook his head. “Tommy just looks like… Tommy. Your sister said to get you a mojito. Does that work for you?”
I nodded, watching him make the drink, crushing the mint fresh. A party of six or seven people sat outside, looking at the cocktail menus and laughing. I knew from experience, that before another couple of hours were up, the place wouldn’t have a spare table, nowhere round here would.
Lala carried on talking to Rico, but I let my thoughts drift away, taking in the atmosphere, the relaxed bustle that Santa Gertrudis had. I excused myself to go back outside when Rico had finished making the drink, wanting sunlight rather than the shade of the bar.
I stretched my legs out into the sun as soon as I sat down, enjoying that first feeling of warmth of my skin and closing my eyes. Chatter and the sultry sounds of chilled house music were in the background, and I had nowhere to go. Nowhere to be.
“A mojito.”
I opened my eyes at the same gruff voice as I’d heard before.
This timeTommysat down facing me. His sunglasses were off, leaving chocolate brown eyes exposed. They were warm and contained more laughter than I’d imagined.
“I didn’t put you down as a mojito girl.”
“What did you put me down as?”
He shrugged. “Something more expensive that they’d serve at the Ritz. Maybe something with champagne. Or just champagne. I don’t think you’re a complicated person.”
“You worked that out how?”
He was quite possibly the most striking man I’d ever seen. I’d grown up among models and actors, pretty-boy singers and rugged rock stars. It got to a point where everyone was beautiful, as long as they were different. For a few weeks one summer, we’d housed three baby models, three girls who were seventeen or eighteen and a coach who was working with them. It took until four days before they left for me and Lara to be able to tell them apart. All three of them were beautiful with high cheekbones and feline eyes, long slender limbs and taut skin; all three of them were desperate to make it in the industry. But they looked the same.
I had no idea what had happened to their careers. Lala may have followed what they did – she’d been the most interested in them. I’d been more bothered about the pool boy that summer.
Tommy was different. He would never have been a model, his muscle was too brawny, but his face was chiselled and he had warm chocolate eyes that would’ve made him impossible to forget. But it was the air he had to him that was the most remarkable. He held himself in a way that told me he didn’t give a shit what anybody said, or what anybody thought. He was as calm as the sea on a windless day, but underneath there would always be a current.
He shrugged at my question, those heavy shoulders making the slightest of movements. “Your sister is complicated. She doesn’t know what she wants, she just wants it now. You, however, have a plan.”
“Want to tell me what that is?” I couldn’t help but smile. He had Lala down to a tee.
“A relaxing holiday. One that’s as drama free as possible.” He grinned, an expression that erased all the grumpy bear shit he had going on. “Then you’re set on something.”
“Want to guess what?” I knew with the way I looked people usually guessed my chosen career incorrectly.
“Something like law, or accountancy.” There was a gleam in his eye, a knowing one. I couldn’t guess his age – he could’ve been anywhere between thirty and forty-five, maybe younger. I wasn’t sure.
I was impressed. “Has Lara already been telling stories about me?”
He shook his head. “Your sister mentioned you were coming. That was it. Am I close?”
