10 are wine-drunk agreements legally binding?
10
are wine-drunk agreements legally binding?
Ava
As I stick a poster up by the till, I desperately hope our new summer frappés are unpopular, because making any kind of blended drink is the unequivocal bane of my working life. I’ve just moved back behind the counter when Finn breezes into the coffee shop. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since the signing of our wine-fuelled treaty.
‘Morning!’ he says to no one in particular as he enters. Someone says it back.
‘Flat white?’ I hedge, when he reaches me. He seems to change his order depending on his mood, which is against everything I thought I knew about coffee lovers.
He leans his hip against the counter and peruses the poster before pointing at one of the new drinks. ‘Can I try one of those?’
‘Sure,’ I say through gritted teeth. I get the ingredients together to throw in the blender and add, ‘You know, most people have one or two favourite drinks and stick to them. Keeps it simple.’
‘I don’t like to pin myself down. Where’s the fun in that?’
He makes a poor attempt at comedy while his drink is blending; pretending to be talking but making it seem like the noise of the blender is drowning him out.
‘I said, when’s our next mission?’ he yells at the exact moment the blender finishes. Oh. Not comedy.
‘I’ve thought about it some more with a sober mind, and I’ve realised I’m all booked up.’ I grab a cup and start to pour the sugary concoction.
‘Ah, right. Until when?’
The snap of the lid clamping on to the cup makes me flinch. ‘When are you leaving London again?’
He narrows his eyes like he can tell where I’m going with this. ‘Sometime in the autumn, probably.’
‘Then I’m booked up until sometime in the autumn.’
‘You should stop thinking about me leaving, it’ll only upset you. Need I remind you we made a deal?’ He makes his way over to the straws while I ring up his order. When he rounds the corner again, he smiles and waves at a middle-aged man sitting at one of the back tables.
‘Friend of yours?’ I ask, eyebrows raised.
‘Why, you jealous?’
‘Not in the slightest. Maybe he can take over from me and go with you on your missions .’
‘Stan’s a lovely man, but I don’t think he likes to try new things.’ Considering Stan has come into the coffee shop at the same time every day (nine thirty), ordering the same drink (Earl Grey with hot milk) and same snack (a pack of ready salted crisps) ever since I’ve worked here, I’m inclined to agree. I don’t want to think about the fact that unless I do something, I’m well on my way to becoming a Stan too.
‘I don’t think a drunken agreement would stand up in a court of law,’ I point out, grabbing a teabag for myself and pouring boiling water into a cup.
‘Our handshake would.’
It’s at this exact moment I see something through the floor-to-ceiling windows that sends me dropping to the floor out of sight.
‘Fuck me ,’ I say under my breath.
‘I usually take a woman to dinner first,’ he responds. When I don’t reply, he asks, ‘Is there any particular reason you’re on the floor?’
‘Is there a tall blonde man by the window still?’
‘Great beard? Yeah, he’s coming in—’ I dart into the back room before he can finish his sentence, leaving the door ajar. Finn greets the person who just walked in, cheerful as ever.
And then comes the rich, audiobook voice of a man I haven’t seen in months. A man who proved exactly why I should never hook up with men I meet in real life.
‘Hello,’ Jonas says on the other side of the door. ‘When I was outside I’m sure I saw someone behind the counter that I knew, just now.’
‘Mateo?’ Finn asks. ‘Makes really good chai lattes?’
‘Her name’s Emily.’
I can’t see Finn’s face but I can imagine the amusement in his eyes. ‘Don’t know if there’s an Emily here.’
‘She’s tall, curvy, sort of like if Botticelli’s Venus had dark hair and a fringe and was a bit emo.’
I won’t lie, it’s not a terrible analogy.
‘Very specific,’ Finn says. ‘Though could you maybe give me some more details?’
‘Well, not to be crass,’ Jonas says, ‘but she has an incredible ass. Great personality too, of course, so bright and warm, but, you know. The ass is . . . yeah.’
‘Nah, there’s definitely no one here who fits that description,’ Finn replies coolly, raising his voice slightly. I think I should be offended, so I send him a glare he can’t see.
After a few more painful moments of back-and-forth between them, eventually I grit my teeth and push the door open, where I’m met with two drastically different expressions on two drastically different men. As expected, Finn’s mouth is curved into a smirk, while Jonas looks like he just won the lottery.
‘It was you,’ he says, eyes softening, moving towards me.
‘Oh, you meant that Emily,’ Finn says, scratching his jaw. ‘I forgot about her.’
I wipe my sweaty palms on my apron. ‘Jonas, hi. It’s been, what, a couple of months?’
‘Ninety-four days.’ Finn’s mouth drops open behind his blonde counterpart as he starts to piece it together, delight swimming in his eyes. He moves away but I know he’s eavesdropping, because he’s gone to the straws and he already has one.
‘That long?’ I ask, wringing my hands in front of me.
‘I’ve thought about you every day since.’ He looks in my eyes like he’s trying to find the secrets of the universe in them. ‘It must be fate that I walked past at this exact moment. How have you been?’
‘Good, really good. Can I get you anything to drink?’
‘Oh. Sorry, I’m overwhelmed. A latte please.’
The night we met, Jonas wrote me a limerick. I decided it would be the last time I’d meet someone out in public instead of on an app, where I can at least vet my subjects first.
While I make his coffee, he peppers me with questions. ‘Do you want to go for a drink later? I’d love to spend more time with you. When do you finish?’ He drops his voice. ‘I can’t stop thinking about that evening we spent together on the boat. It was one of the best nights of my life.’
My face burns as memories resurface. I mean, I had a good time. Multiple good times, if we’re being honest. But there was a reason I cut him off afterwards, and he’s showing it now. Too intense, too dramatic, just too much all around.
He watches me swirl the milk jug and whispers, ‘You always were good with your hands.’
‘Thanks.’ I tap the till a few times to ring his total up, and then I lean against the back wall to keep away from wandering hands.
‘So is that a yes to drinks tonight? I’ve written some poems I’d love to share with you,’ he says eagerly.
This man has all the threatening energy of a slice of damp bread, but I’m concerned he won’t give up. My brain reels through things to say that’ll get him off my back.
‘I think it might be a little awkward if Emily went out for drinks with you,’ Finn says, reappearing by the till, ‘since she’s married.’
My mouth drops open as Jonas’s eyes widen in despair.
‘Married? You didn’t tell me.’ To be fair, I didn’t tell him anything about me at all. ‘I thought we had something.’
‘It was a whirlwind thing,’ I say quickly, regaining my composure. He glances at my naked left hand. ‘We didn’t even have enough time to buy rings. But when you know, you know. Y’know?’
‘Yeah, I know,’ Jonas replies, shoulders slumping. I make every effort not to catch Finn’s eye, whose jaw is clenched with the effort to hold back a laugh at this ridiculous repetition. ‘Is it serious?’
‘It’s uh, yeah. Quite serious. What with the marriage bit,’ I reply.
‘Who is he?’ he asks in a whisper.
‘It’s me. I’m Emily’s husband,’ says Finn, fully inserting himself into another lie for me. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Finn.’
‘Makes sense. I do feel this potent sexual energy between you.’ While Jonas looks down at his feet, I finally meet Finn’s eye, who shrugs and grins, evidently enjoying himself. ‘I hope you know how fortunate you are,’ Jonas continues, clutching his latte like he’s adrift and the cup is his lifebuoy. ‘She’s a gift.’
‘Oh, I’m thankful for her every day. Her positivity, her vibrant light. I’m so lucky.’ Finn gazes at me longingly and I fight the urge to swear. ‘Although, I would love to hear one of your poems. It’d be nice to hear from someone else who gets her.’
I give Finn The Eyes, which he has the gall to completely ignore.
‘I have one called “Angel on Earth”.’ He reaches into his bag and pulls out a tiny notebook, ripping out a page and handing it to Finn. ‘Here, consider it my gift to you. I’ll get going now. Let me know if you ever . . . get a divorce.’
I nod and Finn waves enthusiastically as he leaves. The second the door closes, he clears his throat and starts to read aloud in a surprisingly sultry voice.
‘There was a woman; fair and divine
‘A beauty so classic, bound not to our time
‘A black dahlia amidst an ocean of roses
‘My heart opened to her as the Red Sea did to Moses
‘And when she left me I feared I was dead
‘For I never believed in God until she gave me h—’
A strangled noise escapes me as I yank the paper out of his hand before he can finish.
Finn puts both hands on the counter and leans towards me, dropping his voice to ask, pure glee coating every word, ‘What did you do to him?’
‘I don’t even know. I spent a single evening with him and that’s what he turned into.’ At my nonplussed expression, laughter finally tumbles from his mouth, and it melts into the cracks, sending a smile to my face too as I settle into the ridiculousness of the situation. ‘That’s not normal, right?’
‘Serious question,’ he collects himself enough to ask, ‘who the fuck is Emily?’
‘Do you not see why it might’ve been prudent for me to lie about my identity to that man?’
‘Okay, fair.’ He lets out another chuckle. ‘I honestly thought he was about to carry you to a registry office. And he was built like a Viking, so I’d have stood no chance. I had to think on my feet.’
‘I had it covered,’ I grumble. Then I look up into the warmth of his eyes and say, ‘But thanks for helping me, I guess. Again.’ First he’s my fake friend, then my fake husband. What’s next?
‘To really show your thanks,’ he twirls his straw around his cup, ‘you could repay me by crossing another item off my bucket list.’
I catch sight of strictly scheduled Stan in the corner. It’s just a summer. I won’t push the boundaries too much to draw attention, to remind the universe that I’ve already been given too much, but it may just be enough to appease the discomforting boredom that’s been simmering.
I tighten my ponytail. ‘Fine. Let’s get this over with. AirDrop me your list and I’ll pick the option that sounds the least heinous.’
‘You really know how to make a guy feel special.’
‘Heard that many times.’
‘From Jonas, apparently.’ His mouth quirks up on one side.
I ignore him and skim the list he’s just sent. ‘You free around three tomorrow?’
He blinks a few times, somehow surprised I’ve suggested something, even though he did just semi-blackmail me into it. ‘Yeah. You want to hang out tomorrow? Really?’
‘ Want is maybe overstating, but I was trying not to hurt your feelings.’
‘You’re considering my feelings? Sounds to me like you’re being a good friend.’