by Angel Devlin
Contents
The Perfect Martini
Note to Readers
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
All About Angel
The Cocktail Girls
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, with the exception of the use of small quotations in book reviews.
Copyright © 2018 By Angel Devlin.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Angel Devlin holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Ingredients
1.5 ounces gin
.75 ounce dry vermouth
.75 ounce sweet vermouth
Garnish: olives or lemon twist
Method
Pour into a cocktail mixing glass over ice.
Stir well for 30 seconds
Strain into a chilled cocktail glass
Garnish
Serving suggestion: Pour slowly over various parts of a hot body and lick off for the best experience.
Note to Readers
Louis is from Leeds in the United Kingdom.
Mila lives in Vegas.
You will find when reading that in dialog/dialogue there are differences in spellings to stay authentic to the character’s backgrounds.
Angel xo
DAILY NEWS - A British Tabloid
Friday 23 March 2018
HOW FAR IS TOO FAR?
Report by Deanna Murphy
They’re worshipped like elite celebrities, but what are the actual talents of the current batch of YouTubers?
Despite a University education resulting in a First Class honours degree in Accountancy, Damien Allen is better known as the brother that plays continual pranks on his elder sister online, including throwing out all of her knickers and replacing them with large granny pants, and placing a fake plastic spider in her lunch.
Another YouTuber, Louis Clayton, amuses his followers for hours by buying a different car every week and performing drifts in his local supermarket car park when it’s closed on a Sunday. He also uploads several ‘hilarious’ videos of him in supermarkets changing lettered mugs around to spell rude words.
Despite this, these men are becoming worth hundreds of thousands of pounds through sponsorships. Both began by filming themselves playing online games but migrated to the more lucrative ‘reality’ style uploads.
Chatting to parents online, most despair at their offspring watching these videos of grown men acting like teenagers and leading their kids astray.
Donna Lowe, 28, from Southampton, stated, “I got a phone call from my local supermarket that my son had had his scooter taken off him due to health and safety concerns. He had been performing stunt tricks in the aisles while recording himself, having seen Louis do it the week before. The fact is this guy is only a few years younger than I am. He should try to be a more positive role model for the kids.”
YouTube vlog - Uploaded by Louis Clayton on Thurs 22 April 2018
“Hey there, subscribers. So thanks for tuning in. In today’s video we’re off to McDonald's to buy three hundred boxes of fries to see what we win in the latest Monopoly promotion. It’s gonna be a blast. I’ve got Jonno here with me, Max is coming, and Cam. It’s gonna be amazing. I can’t wait to see their faces when we rock up to the drive thru and ask for three hundred fries. Let’s go.”
Louis
Saturday 24 April 2018
I sat back on my large leather corner sofa in my five-bedroomed detached home in Leeds. My YouTube video played on the 60-inch television screen in front of me while I listened on surround sound. I was famous in Britain—well getting there—for doing stuff like this… buying fucking fries.
A computer game nerd, I’d started recording myself playing games like Call of Duty and GTA, getting a following and making a name for myself. Then the sponsorships started coming in and I needed to release more videos. People wanted to get to know me. They felt they did know me. So next it was pranks. I’d prank my friends. Before I knew it, I’d got merch deals. There was the foulest smelling aftershave with my name on it, it was like frikking fly spray.
Now at twenty-five years old I’d just got 750,000 views of me buying fries. For fuck’s sake. The money was amazing. The fact I made a living of filming myself was incredible, but again—fucking fries. And it took ages to peel the stickers off the bastards, not to mention the food waste. My mother rang me and had a fit going on about starving children.
I checked my stats. I was at 980,000 subscribers. 20k more and I would have a million—a million. Not views, I quite often got a million and upwards views, but a million people who wanted to see every one of my videos and receive notifications when a new one was uploaded.
I turned to Jonno who was sitting in the leather recliner staring at his iPhone, his hand occasionally dipping into the large packet of crisps on his knee-or potato chips as my US fans called them. I had just started to break the US market. They were my ticket to my first million subscribers, I knew it.
I threw a cushion at Jonno.
“Mate. I need to do something more grown up, get an older audience. I can’t keep buying fries.”
Jonno shrugged his shoulders at me. “We only won more bloody fries anyway.”
“You read that press piece too. They’re crucifying me now for the shit kids do. I’m gonna get sued by supermarkets next for crushed tins of beans. I need to move on, get older subscribers, bro.”
“So think of something different.” He continued to stuff crisps in his mouth.
“What can I do though? I need something elaborate to take me over my first million subscribers. It’s got to be epic and appeal to the adult population.”
Jonno put his phone down. You have no idea how rare that was to get his full attention.
“Like, streak naked across a football pitch epic?”
I shook my head. “Something totally lit. Bigger. Crazy stupid. Bro, help me think of something.”
“In the UK?” He scratched his balls over the top of his joggers.
I sucked on my bottom lip. “Hmmmm... No. Let’s go to America. I want to get new fans there. I’ll pay for all four of us to go, or the sponsors will. Where shall we go to? New York? Florida?”
“We could do something in Disney World?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I want something more grown up.”
“Got it!” Jonno sat up straight. “Let’s go to Vegas. There must be a prank we can pull off there. Plus we can hit all the casinos. I’ve always wanted to go there.”
I thought about it. Vegas. I could do a video about gambling a load of money! Hmmm. That was okay, but it wasn’t the most exciting thing ever. I mean everyone who went to Vegas did that.
“Hey, we should watch all the movies we can that have Vegas in them, get us in the mood, and get us some ideas.” Jonno began scrolling through his phone.
“Now You See Me. That’s set there. What Happens in Vegas. Nah, that’s a chick flick. It’s got Ashton Kutcher in it though.”
That guy was a legend to us, having b
een in Punk’d.
“What’s it about?” I asked him.
“Man and woman get married in Vegas and have to stay married for a bit. Sounds-”
“Fantastic.” I interrupted.
Jonno screwed his face up. “What are you on about, fantastic? You grown a pussy while you’re sat there?”
I sit on the very edge of my seat like I’m about to jump up. “No. I mean that’s it. I’m gonna Vegas and I’m going to marry a chick there. Some random stranger. Well that’ll be my aim anyway. Go to Vegas and see if we can get some chick to marry me. They have to not know who I am though, otherwise I’ll get a weird stalker who’ll refuse to have an annulment.”
“That’s the craziest shit I ever heard, man.” Jonno said. “You can’t do that.”
I bounced up out of my chair full of excitement.
“It’s epic. It’s the most lit idea ever. Let’s get on it. Get the others here. We need to plan a holiday.”
“You know how your mother reacted to the fries, she’s gonna have your balls for this one.” Jonno shook his head.
Mila
March 31, 2018 - Saturday
The Little Black Dress bar was packed to the hilt. I stood behind the counter with the rest of the evening’s crew. My dress was a very short, black lace dress with a nude underlay. It had a steam-punk effect lace design and a scalloped ‘v’ shape neckline. One of the best parts of working here was being able to dress up, and although we all had to wear black dresses, every one of the cocktail waitresses had their own style.
My dark brown hair was up off my neck in a ponytail and I wore Gucci interlocking stud earrings and a wolf head pendant necklace. They were nice pieces that I had earned and bought myself, something very important to me.
“Can I have a slow comfortable screw… and what cocktails do you do?” The idiot in front of me guffawed at his own joke and then looked at his friends for further encouragement. They never realized I heard this a dozen times a night. Game face on, I gave him my best flirtatious smile.
“You’re so amusing.” I handed him the cocktail menu. “Now you take a look at that list and see what I can get you. I highly recommend the martini.”
The martini was my favorite drink to make. Simple, tasteful, and I made what was called the Perfect Martini with equal amounts of sweet and dry vermouth.
“We want Tequila Slammers.” Jerk-off said.
I had to try really hard not to roll my eyes. I added two parts Tequila to six glasses, added the fizz, and placed napkins over the top, placing them on the counter. Jerk-off and his five friends slammed them on the counter, liquid going everywhere before draining what remained in their glasses. “Again.” He said, and I fixed them a second lot.
It was typical Vegas. Abandonment of common sense. In here we saw everything. Totally wasted men and women who went on to spend their evenings trying to win a fortune in the casinos. Then there were the couples who had come here to get married. They’d prop up the bar telling me their love stories, with no idea that they were talking to the woman with the most cynical feelings about love. But my game face would be on and I’d sell them champagne cocktails to celebrate the occasion.
And then there were the chumps who came here and got married while they were drunk. They’d hit the bar showing off their wedding rings, and we’d all know that they’d wake up tomorrow with a head full of pain and regret while they found out how to get an annulment post haste.
“Loving the dress tonight.” I turned to smile at the owner of the bar, Maximo. A middle-aged sleazeball with a receding hairline and a pot belly, I was sure he thought himself to be some kind of Hugh Hefner. But I liked my job and wanted to keep it, so while ever it was just his eyes on me and not his hands, I’d keep him sweet.
“Thanks. It’s a good night tonight.” I commented.
“Yeah, takings are up. So I’m a very happy man.” He wandered off to mingle with the crowds. In the bar based at the Millennium hotel, Maximo was treated like a celebrity and he ate it up. He probably ate up some of the females who flocked around him attracted to his bank balance too, but that was a visual no one needed in their head, so I went back to work.
During my break I took out my cell from my purse and checked my messages. I had a text from my friend Jenny.
Jenny: I can’t wait for tomorrow night. It’s going to get wild, girl!
I sighed. I’d been putting her off for weeks and in the end I’d given up. Jenny thought I was quiet, worked too hard, and had decided I needed to see and experience Vegas for myself. She knew I’d come to Vegas following a boyfriend and said it was time to get myself back out there.
My shift over at 2am, I headed back to Spring Valley and hit the sack.
Later that day I woke on the couch, my neck hurting from the stupid position I’d fallen asleep in. I’d been reading and when my eyes had started to close I’d allowed the tiredness to consume me, placing my eReader on the floor and curling my knees closer to my chest. I checked out the time—9pm—crap!
Swinging my legs off the couch, I sat up, placing my head in my hands, then rubbing at my eyes as I tried to get myself moving. I was meeting Jenny on the Strip at 10:30 pm.
I groaned. Everyone who knew me thought I was a quiet little mouse who needed to experience life. What they didn’t understand was I was a quiet little mouse because I’d experienced enough life to last me a lifetime.
I’d arrived in Vegas two years ago at 21, following the ‘love of my life’. Against all my family’s warnings, I’d followed Billy Hastings to Vegas where we’d hit the Strip and gambled away my savings and allowance before my family had finally had enough of me and cut me off—at which point Billy dumped me.
There was no way I was crawling back to the Upper East Side with my tail between my legs. I’d hated my life there anyway. An endless itinerary of charity functions, dinner events, and parental matchmaking with their idea of suitable future husband material. A return to that, along with constant reminders of how foolish I’d been? Plus what they’d done after my relationship ended… well it was unforgivable. So, no thanks. Instead I’d rented a one bedroom apartment in Spring Valley and got myself a job in a bar.
Tonight, Jenny would expect me to get wasted. The problem was me and alcohol were a heady mix. It didn’t take much to get me drunk and when I did, I tended to think stupid things were a great idea, which was why I had a tattoo of a martini cocktail on my right ass cheek. I told you I liked them. One night I’d liked them a little too much…
Dragging myself into the kitchen I started to fix myself an omelet, figuring if I lined my stomach well, the alcohol wouldn’t hit as hard.
Stomach full, I dressed in a white tea dress with a lace insert at the waist, and slipped my feet into some white Jimmy Choos, one nod I still had to my previous existence as a rich bitch. There was no way I was ditching my Choos. My life as the daughter of a billionaire,yes-the shoes—not a chance in hell. I left my hair loose and tonged it into slight waves.
Grabbing a sky-blue colored purse—I wore no black outside of work—I opened my apartment door ready to catch a bus down to the strip. I’d get a cab home later.
Letting myself out of the apartment, I took a deep breath. Come on Mila, it’s one night. What’s the worst that can happen? A sore head tomorrow? I had the day off anyway.
If only I’d known…
Louis
Saturday 31 March 2018
We walked into my room at the MGM Grand. I’d booked each of us a King room, all paid for by one of my sponsors who thought the idea of us coming here was golden. The sheer size of the room was incredible with its bed, desk, couch, large TV, and huge bathroom.
“I can’t believe we got one of these each.” Max scrubbed a hand through his blonde curls.
“Yeah, well, if you get lucky with the ladies I don’t wanna be hearing it.” I laughed. “Plus, I need a place to bring my wife back to.”
“You still on with that ridiculous idea?” Cam, who I have to say was
the most sensible of the bunch, though not that sensible, stared at me from under his floppy brown fringe.
“Duh? That’s why we’re here, Bro. To find me a wife. And on that note. What are we doing still in the rooms? Let’s get our shit together and get out there.” I walked over and high-fived each one. “Operation Marrying Mrs Clayton is on.”
“Bloody hell. We don’t even need to leave the hotel. This makes our hotels and shopping centres look like a model village.” Cam gasped. He was right, there was a map in the lobby to show us where things were. The place was enormous.
“Well. I say we stay here tonight and look around the place.” I switched my phone onto record.
“Hey there, everyone. We’re here live from the MGM Grand. Earlier you saw our rooms, now we’re going to show you some of the hotel. And what can I say? The place is vast. Absolutely enormous. Now as I’ve said to you before, this video is likely to end up 18+ and so for that reason I’ve put warnings all over the channel, so mum’s you might want to watch this one yourself. Right, so on that note here we have the Lobby Bar so we’re going to make our way inside and try it out.”
And we did, and then we tried the bar called Whiskey Down and then we hit the casino. I recorded us at various locations but the rest of the time we just let our hair down and enjoyed our hotel.
