After shaking came the pouring, and Justin’s hands trembled. He knew he wasn’t the only one nervous about making cocktails, though he suspected his reasons were different from everyone else’s.
“That’s good,” Eric said, seeming happy. That hand was back again, resting on Justin’s back. It felt hot and large. God. “Well done. Now taste the drink.” He handed Justin a small straw, flashing him a smile and a wink.
It caught Justin off guard, and he wasn’t sure why he felt guilty for smiling back.
Relax, he told himself. Taking his drink, he retreated from the bar and was relieved to let someone else step into the spotlight.
All in all, demonstrating and practicing the entire menu took a little over two hours. Sam had already prepped the bar and turned on the music to a soft, chilled level, and at 3 p.m., he opened the doors to the public.
One old man wandered in.
The rest of the staff were still sipping the cocktails they’d made themselves, excitedly chattering. As most of them were smokers, the inevitable cigarette packets and rolling tobacco were brought out. Justin glanced around. Eric and George were cleaning away the mess that’d been made, chatting as they did so.
Tara put on her jumper, and Justin asked her, “Are we still going shopping after this?”
They both needed to buy a birthday present for Tara’s mum.
“Yes, let me smoke this.” Tara held her rollie aloft. “And we’ll go eat something too. I’m starved.”
“Okay.” Justin resigned to wait. Hopefully Nina, the only other nonsmoker, would shuffle down the bar and keep him company.
But Nina was already putting her jacket on, saying she had to meet her boyfriend.
As they all got up en masse, Justin made an executive decision and got up to use the toilet. He didn’t want to be a Billy-no-mates at the bar. Hopefully Eric would be gone by the time he came back.
The toilets were through a door and down a dark, narrow corridor. They were unisex, and usually smelled damp because of the leaking cisterns. Justin went upstairs instead, to use the other set of toilets, which weren’t as leaky.
He took his time, marveling that there was actually soap in the soap dispenser when he went to wash his hands. He checked his reflection in the mirror and then took his phone from his pocket.
No messages.
The last one he’d got from Yena had been two days ago, when he’d said he was on his way to Croydon. Likely he was caught up dealing with whatever was going on at his parents’ house, Justin reasoned. Still, it hurt some that he hadn’t replied since.
Should Justin send another message? Saying what? Hope all was well… or something like that? Justin winced. He didn’t want to be annoying, especially if Yena was busy. He could wait it out; Yena had said only four days. That meant he’d be back in two, and he’d have a day off from work soon.
Or so Justin hoped.
He put his phone away and trudged back downstairs. In the gloom, he received a surprise. There was someone loitering at the bottom of the stairs, checking his phone in the semidarkness.
Eric.
Justin paused on the stairs and then made himself keep walking. Act natural, he told himself. Eric had obviously just used the downstairs toilets, and was now checking his phone. That’s all it was.
Except when Eric glanced up and smiled at him, Justin had to wonder.
“Hey,” Eric greeted. “What’s upstairs?”
“Er, more toilets,” Justin said. He’d reached the last step and wondered how long he should stop and engage in chat for before it was deemed polite to leave. “I prefer the upstairs ones ’cause they smell a bit nicer.”
“Ah.” Eric’s smile seemed good-natured, and he pocketed his phone. “Yes, I admit, I’m used to nicer toilets. There was a private one for staff at Foxy’s, but,” he added, looking directly at Justin, “it was a bit cramped for anything more exciting, if you know what I mean.”
“Er….” Justin’s mind raced away, although he wasn’t picturing himself with Eric, having sex in a cramped toilet stall; his mind provided the image of Eric and Yena engaged in the act.
Had they had sex at work? Justin reeled at the thought, and jealousy flared in him, heating his face.
Suddenly he didn’t want to talk to Eric any longer.
“Yeah, well.” Justin moved to walk past, but Eric quickly placed a hand on the wall, blocking Justin’s escape.
“How’s the space upstairs?” Eric asked, his voice low and seductive.
The display of dominance was admittedly a little thrilling, yet all it managed to do right now was irritate Justin, so he snapped, “Look, mate, I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
Which was a lie, but it was the nicest rejection Justin could come up with in the heat of the moment.
Eric didn’t seem swayed. He grinned—leered, actually—at Justin. “Oh, you don’t? Want me to show you, Justin?”
Staring back at him in utter surprise, Justin was almost too taken aback to reply.
Seriously?
But when Eric’s hand left the wall and tried to drape over Justin’s shoulder, it snapped him back to reality. “Leave it out, Eric,” Justin said firmly. He ducked under the arm blockade and made for the door, charging through and not bothering to hold it for Eric.
Seriously? I mean, seriously!
As he walked back into the bar, Justin was in shock. Did people actually behave like that in real life? Like some kind of sleazy praying mantis?
Fucking cheek.
Indignation and nerves warred inside Justin, so he quickly went outside to find sanctuary with the smokers. He’d just have to hold his breath for a while, he reasoned, as they all puffed away.
And take another shower when he got home.
A few minutes later, Eric appeared. He was wearing his jacket, and Justin hoped he wasn’t going to stay for a cigarette.
“Well,” he said, bestowing a smile on the rest of the staff. “It was great to meet you all. Good luck whipping up those cocktails.”
A chorus of thank yous and good-byes trilled round, and Justin forced a tight smile.
Yeah, piss off, Eric.
As if hearing his thoughts, Eric shot Justin an icy look before turning on his heel to walk away. Justin stared at his retreating back until he’d reached the end of the alley and disappeared around the corner.
And good riddance too.
Chapter Fourteen
MIGRATING UP Camden Road and into the popular stables markets, Justin and Tara agreed to stop for food before they commenced present buying. In the bustling food court, surrounded by different stalls selling food, refreshments, and also gifts, they perused the different cuisines on offer. Vendors called out to them in different accents, seemingly desperate for them to try tasters.
As locals, Justin and Tara politely ignored them, and concentrated on their decision. “Think I’ll have Chinese,” Tara said. “I’m going to be naughty.”
Justin was torn. “I can never make up my mind,” he admitted. “And all of this is bad for me.”
“If we’re both naughty, it’s okay,” Tara said with a wink. She moved off to queue at the Chinese stall.
Snorting, Justin called after her, “Yeah, we’ll both jog home then, to work it off.”
“I have a date later,” Tara called back, fishing out her wallet. “I intend to be working it off.”
“Oh.” Justin smiled wryly. All right for some. He stifled a sigh, made a snap decision to have Mexican, and moved into their queue.
Food purchased and in take-away containers, they found an unoccupied bench with a table and sat down.
“I hate this plastic cutlery,” Justin complained. “Feels like it’s gonna snap any second.”
“You’re too rough with your cutting,” Tara told him.
“They rolled my burrito too tight,” Justin went on, although he knew Tara was right. He was being too rough, taking out his irritation on his food. Tara curled over the table, chuckling, until Justin
demanded, “What?”
“Too tight,” she said, amidst giggles.
Justin rolled his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter, love.”
She straightened up and gave him a look. “You’re one to talk! What’s with you today? Is it PMT?”
This brought a snort of laughter. “Yeah, probably,” Justin admitted. He poked at his food but wasn’t really in the mood for eating.
Tara went quiet and ate a mouthful of rice. She glanced at Justin, but he tried to pretend he didn’t notice. Another moment of quiet eating, then Tara swallowed and asked, “Have you heard from your man?”
Justin deflated a little. “No,” he said, finally giving up with his food and pushing it away. “Not for two days.”
“Two days isn’t much,” Tara said gently. “What did he tell you? His dad wasn’t well, or something?”
“Yeah.” Justin nodded, frowning. “And I feel like a twat for getting stroppy about it, but he’s hardly been texting me back at all. I just thought….” He shrugged, and sighed again. “I dunno. I don’t know what to think.”
Tara was a good listener. She continued eating her food delicately, as she advised Justin. “Some people aren’t good at texting anyway, even without drama going on. Maybe he’s just one of those. That doesn’t automatically mean he doesn’t care about you, Justin.”
“Hm.” Justin thought on that. “Yeah… maybe.”
“All blokes are rubbish at texting back,” Tara said with a sidelong smile. “You’re abnormal. You’re really good at texting.”
At this, Justin laughed. “I know, right? I’m amazing.”
“So, all I’m saying is, bear in mind not everyone is as amazing as you.”
“Hmm,” he said again. He conceded she did have a point. And who knew what was going on at Yena’s home? He hadn’t been forthcoming with the details. “Okay, Tara, you’re right. And I guess two days isn’t that long.”
“Exactly.” She nudged him gently with her elbow. “Are you going to stop sulking now?”
“Hah! No.” Justin nudged her back. “Well, maybe a little bit. Just for you.”
“Atta boy.”
After Tara was finished eating—and Justin had made a half-hearted attempt at a couple of mouthfuls—they disposed of their food containers in a bin and set out to mooch around the stalls, searching for the perfect present for Tara’s mum.
“What color is she into recently?” Justin asked, eyeing some silk scarves.
“Still blue.” Tara peered into a stall selling jewelry. “I’m trying to steer her away from pink. At least the more garish shades.”
“Oh, right.” Justin turned away from the silk scarves, all of which were extremely bright and garish. “Well, if you want to find something really nice, we could go halves.”
Tara shot him a look. “You want me to choose it, you mean.”
“Er… maybe.”
“Justin, come on. You’re usually really good at picking presents.”
“I am?” Justin’s eyes flicked back to the loud scarves.
“What about jewelry?” Tara said.
“Works for me.”
Justin had been hoping for a quick shopping trip, but Tara insisted on doing that girl thing of looking round every single jewelry stall first before making a decision. Justin wasn’t into understated silver jewelry anyway. His eye was drawn to statement pieces, all of which Tara turned her nose up at.
After nearly an hour of traipsing around, Justin was itching to suggest they get her high street vouchers instead. He knew Tara would say no. She was in a dark, Bedouin tent-style stall, with colored glass lights dangling low, scraping the top of Justin’s head when he walked under them. This stall sold gold jewelry, and Tara was trying to have a look at the earrings while the shopkeeper promised the best prices in Camden.
Justin snorted. “Yeah, right,” he muttered, having heard it all before. His pocket vibrated; his phone had received a message. Justin went tense all over with anticipation. Taking out his phone, he told himself not to get excited, it was probably something boring.
He checked his messages, and his eyes lit up when he saw Yena’s name. At last! Hurrying to open it, Justin read the message.
Are you at work?
Not quite what he was expecting, but a fair question. Justin often asked the same to his friends, so he knew when was convenient to talk. Texting a quick reply, he said he was happily shopping for gifts in Camden.
Justin smiled to himself, and kept his phone in hand. Maybe if he was lucky, Yena would text back straightaway.
Tara had evidently had enough of browsing gold jewelry, and retreated from the stall and its eager owner. Justin’s heart sank; he’d been hoping she’d choose something soon.
“Let’s go back to that stall with the turquoise earrings,” she said, as Justin rolled his eyes and dragged his feet behind her.
His hand juddered with vibration as his phone buzzed again. Justin looked at the screen, surprised to see that Yena was calling him.
Oh.
His heart shot into his throat, and he swallowed. “Tara, I’m… I’ll only be a minute.” He began to move away from the stalls, heading for somewhere quieter. He accepted the call and quickly put the phone to his ear. “Hey, you.”
“Hey…. Justin.” Yena sounded hesitant, then asked, “Where are you?”
“Stables market,” Justin said. He was headed back through the food court, which was rather noisy. There was a quiet area farther on, with fewer stalls, and a fountain surrounded by benches.
“Who are you with?”
Justin paused at the question, glancing behind him. “Tara. She’s dithering over jewelry.”
Silence on the other end. Or had he strolled into a bad reception spot? Justin resumed his pace, and hurried to the fountain, with fewer loud tourists nearby. “Hello? You still there?”
“I’m here,” Yena said quietly. He breathed out, which could’ve been a sigh. Instantly, Justin could tell something was wrong. Was it Yena’s father? Was it bad news? His heart sped up.
“You okay?” Justin asked. His free hand clenched, nervous.
Another moment of quiet, then Yena spoke. “Did you see Eric today?”
The question confused him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Justin realized he was in deep shit. “Er, yeah, I did,” he answered, uncertain. “We all did. He came in our bar to do our cocktail training.”
“Today?”
“Yeah, literally a couple of hours ago. He just strolled in with our area manager and….” Justin’s voice wavered. Shit. How did Yena even know this? And why was he asking?
More silence. Justin’s heart thumped heavily. “Why, what—”
“Did anything else happen?”
Oh, shit. Justin wracked his brain, but he could only think of that weird standoff with Eric outside the toilets. Was that was this was about? How did Yena know?
Nothing happened.
Justin felt guilty anyway. He cleared his throat a little. “Yeah, I guess… I dunno, I guess Eric got a bit smarmy with me. I wasn’t expecting him to, he just sorta….” Justin’s free hand flailed as he tried unsuccessfully to get his words out. “I think he came on to me, but it was a joke. I mean, I didn’t take it seriously. Then he got huffy and left.”
Yena didn’t reply. Justin had been hoping for a quick response, even a laugh of relief. What the hell? Was he actually being accused of something he hadn’t done?
“Are you still there?” Justin asked, his voice becoming wobbly.
“Yes” came the clipped reply. “Justin, why would Eric send me a message, saying he’d had fun with you this afternoon? Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me?”
Justin’s jaw dropped, his eyes growing wide. Oh, my God. Seriously? “I-I didn’t…. What am I supposed to say?” Justin snapped, desperate. “What are you accusing me of here? I told you exactly what happened, and you don’t believe me?”
“Justin, I don’t have time for this,” Yena responded. “
My dad’s going in for surgery as we speak. I am standing outside the hospital right now, trying to figure out what the hell is going on between you and Eric, while my mother and sister are inside crying their eyes out.” His voice hitched, and he breathed in. “Do you have any idea how stressed I am right now?”
Justin felt his anger deflate, and guilt crept over him. “I didn’t know,” he said meekly. “I’m sorry.”
“Will you please just tell me what happened,” Yena snapped at him.
“I already did! I swear, that’s the entire thing. Eric was like, in the hallway as I was coming downstairs, and he tried to be all suggestive, I don’t know what the fuck he was doing, so I walked away. That’s it, nothing else. I don’t even want him, I….” I want you.
The line was horribly silent.
Justin had to prod him for a reply. “Yena?”
“That’s it?” he asked quietly. “You promise that’s all there was?”
“Yes, I swear,” Justin insisted. “I wouldn’t lie about it. I don’t like Eric anyway. I think he’s a dick.”
Yena snorted lightly. “Yeah, he is. Okay, look, I’m sorry I had to ask. But he’s been really weird with me lately, and the message he sent made it sound like he’d been with you, and….” He sighed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be messed around again.”
“I’m not messing you around,” Justin said. He bit his tongue over saying more, like he’d been the one waiting for Yena to contact him. As his brain played catch up, Justin then asked, “What do you mean, he’s been weird with you?”
Yena sighed again, although it sounded more like a groan. “I dunno, he’s been such a prick. Thank God he’s left now, but he was being all… weird on the last few shifts.”
“Weird, how?”
“Like… trying to flirt with me, I suppose. Which was fucking annoying, actually. I wanted to punch him.”
Why didn’t you? Justin stared ahead into nothing, as his mind filled with images of Eric and Yena together, in every which way possible. He blinked, trying to shut them out. “So… he made a big deal of flirting with you, then he did the same to me, and told you about it because I turned him down?”
Love on the Rocks (Bar Tenders) Page 13
