I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this job more than I should.
Chapter Six
OLIVIA
Seven on the dot and I’m the only one here. I love my friends, but they are perpetually late. I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. I should know better, but I was always told growing up if you’re on time, you’re late. It’s engrained into my DNA at this point.
I attempt to call my parents while I’m waiting, but I get no answer. Sighing, I leave a voicemail for my mum.
“Hi Mum, it’s Liv. I wanted to see how you and Dad were doing. I haven’t spoken to you in a few weeks. Hope you’re doing well. Love you.”
It’s the most bland message to leave, but I doubt it’ll get a follow-up. They ignored my message last month too.
As the time ticks past seven, I no longer wait for my friends. Giving the hostess Sienna’s name, I follow her through the restaurant.
This is one of our favorite places in London. Pink flowers cover the ceiling and walls as we pass through the entryway. Blue and green glass floors are lit up from below. Oversized velvet booths fill the space as I’m led to a table in the corner overlooking the cathedral.
“Enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you.” I take the menu and set it down. I could recite it forwards and back.
Our server comes to the table and I order a drink while I wait.
“Sorry, babe. Sorry!” Sienna comes hurrying over, dropping a kiss on my cheek. “Tube was running behind.”
I smile at her as she drops into her seat. It’s always the tube running late with her.
“You know you didn’t have to cancel your date,” I tell Sienna as my usual drink is dropped off.
“And miss this? Never.”
“I haven’t missed anything, have I?” Imogen rushes towards us in a whirl of expensive perfume and a slinky black dress.
Stunning, as usual.
“No dish has been served,” Sienna says.
“Good.” Imogen rubs her hands together. “We’ll get wine and then I want to hear all about your evening.”
She waggles her brows at me, waving her hand at our passing server to order a bottle of red for the two of them.
“It is so embarrassing. I can’t believe it happened,” I groan, burying my face in my hands. “This is why I don’t do things like this.”
The bottle of wine is dropped off with two glasses. We wait as they’re poured and handed to each of them.
“But the sex was good?” Sienna asks.
“How does that help the situation?” I hiss, gulping down half my drink. The gin helps to calm all my raging emotions.
Emotions I’m not used to feeling.
“But why are you embarrassed? You haven’t told us that part,” Imogen oh-so-helpfully points out.
“Because he’s the new coach!” I bury my face in my hands.
“I’m still not seeing the problem,” Imogen says. “You don’t work under him. It’s not a conflict of interest.”
The noise of the restaurant grows louder in my ears. I can’t believe I got myself into this situation. This is not what I was imagining would happen when I tossed all common sense out the window.
