23. Ari
Ari
He takes me to The King’s Head, a human pub with a clientele who appear to be almost predominately students.
At least there’s a doorman to let me in, but I don’t think he’s there as a curtesy, I think he’s there to break up any fights that occur and to check the IDs of the children who are trying to buy alcohol.
It’s a well-known phenomenon that as you get older, people start to look younger and it becomes more and more difficult to tell how old people are.
“Is that person old enough to even be out without their parents?” I ask Brody under my breath as I look around the pub and spot someone who seriously looks twelve.
Brody squints in the murky light. “I’d guess he’s a fresher,” he says. “That means he’s in the first year of uni, so probably eighteen or nineteen.”
“Looks twelve,” I mutter.
But despite the apparent children all around me, I cannot fault the King’s Head’s selection of sparkling wine – both normal sized bottles and those mini ones that pricks drink with a straw – or their prices which are cheap even by my paltry standards.
Especially after the cost of last night.
I feel stupid for the hot tub and the wine and the…
well, it’s obvious he doesn’t really like me.
Not that I want him to… it’s just hard not to take it personally.
We slosh the wine into two slightly grimy flutes and for a second I think of the face Ivan would pull if I tried to bring him here. I think he’d have a heart attack if he had a heart to beat.
“Here’s to our new loan,” Brody says with a smile that lights up his entire face.
“Can it really be that easy?” I ask.
“Yes. You heard what that dude said. It’s a done deal.”
I’ve always wished I was more positive, more prone to assume the best instead of the worst. It must be so much nicer. So much less stressful to spend your life assuming that everything is going to fall into place and only having to worry when things actually go wrong.
An hour later and we’ve drunk two bottles of prosecco between us. The edges are starting to blur a little and I’m starting to feel giddy, like a young kid taking their first sips of Sanguis.
“We should get some food,” Brody tells me. “Mop up some of this fizz.”
The cold air hits us as we leave the pub and Brody shivers next to me.
“That wind is bracing,” he tells me with an exaggerated grimace.
“Definite perk of being a vampire that I don’t mind it.”
We walk past the restaurant we went to on our fake date. “We could…” I begin, before letting the rest of the question trail off.
“The Castle Brasserie? I didn’t think you liked it last time.”
“It was alright,” I say. But in truth, it was better than OK.
Anywhere with Brody is always better than I’m expecting, like I’ve conditioned myself not to have fun but I can’t help myself when I’m with him.
“But let’s go someplace else.” I’ve remembered how much money I don’t have right now.
“It’s pretty pricey.” Plus, I don’t want him to think it’s a date.
Not after last night. I don’t want to make things more awkward.
Brody looks a little shifty and runs his hand through his hair. “I actually have a voucher. Two for one on mains, plus a free glass of dessert wine. But I don’t want you to think I’m cheap if I use it.”
I frown. “Why would I think you were cheap?”
“I dated a girl once who thought it was gauche to use a voucher.” He shrugs.
“Was it Yetty?” I wouldn’t be surprised, it’s the kind of thing I can imagine her doing.
“No. Her name was Heather and she wanted me to build a crypto portfolio so I could afford to take her to all the best places.”
“She sounds delightful.” I don’t think Brody has very good taste in women but I don’t say it out loud.
“She dumped me after nine months when she met someone with a trust fund.”
I just can’t believe he wasted that long on her. “Well, I think the Castle Brasserie with a voucher sounds perfect,” I tell him. He beams back at me.
Gregory is manning the concierge desk again and I wave at him the second he spots me. His face falls. He’s definitely not thrilled to see me. But then he appears to paste a fake smile on his face and rushes towards the door, swinging it open.
“Ms Haywood. Welcome back to the Castle Brasserie. Please come in. We’ll get a table ready for you.”
I take a step back, confused at his effusive welcome.
I can only assume that someone has been on a diversity awareness course and been told that vampires shouldn’t be treated like shit.
You’d think that the normie establishments would have realised by now that vampires generally have deep pockets and plenty of time for dining out, we make excellent customers.
Except broke old me of course, but I’m an exception to the rule.
“We’re so glad you came back for another visit,” Gregory says as he leads us to a table in the window.
It’s undoubtedly their best table, with a view out onto the street and small vase of fresh cut wild flowers in the centre.
“Let me bring you a drink while you peruse the menu,” he adds as he fusses over the napkins, making sure everything is absolutely perfect. “Merlot?”
“Please,” I reply, even though it might be better to have a glass of water after all that prosecco. Live a little, I whisper to myself.
We decide to gamble a little with our meals: Brody orders a starter for us both and I order the main. It seemed a good idea at the time, but then this plate arrives at the table. It’s basically a huge ball of white stuff with honey drizzled on top and surrounded by segments of fig and seeds.
“What is that?” I ask, staring at it with suspicion.
“Burrata,” Brody tells me. “It’s a soft creamy cheese. You’ll love it.”
Live a little. And so I take a forkful.
“It’s good, right?”
“It’s delicious. I’ve never had this before,” I tell Brody, who is laughing at the look of ecstasy on my face after the first bite.
“I don’t understand how you’ve never tried it, though. It’s on pretty much every menu.”
“Not in vampire places,” I tell him. “Honestly, most of those places still think a prawn cocktail is a risqué modern choice.”
“Maybe you should eat out with the humans more often,” he replies.
“Maybe I should.” I think we might be flirting. Again. I shouldn’t. But it feels natural. Like last night didn’t happen and ruin things. Not that there’s anything between me and Brody to ruin, but you know what I mean.
For the main course I’d ordered us an old classic: Duck à l'Orange. But as it arrives I feel like I’ve made the wrong choice, he’s going to think I’m just like all the other old school vampires who resist change. Especially as it’s served with braised red cabbage and dauphinois potatoes.
“Wow,” he says when the plate is laid in front of him. “This is one of my favourites.” He smiles at me and I relax instantly.
“You’re sure you like it?”
“It’s duck. In an orange sauce. What’s not to like?”
We decide to share salted caramel profiteroles for dessert and wash it down with our free glasses of muscat.
After dinner Brody and I head down to the canal and walk along the waterfront.
“My brother works here,” Brody says, pointing to something.
“Where?”
“It’s an outdoor activity centre for kids.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense with the whole paragliding thing.”
“Yeah. He’s desperate to take me to the top of that climbing wall and throw me off. With a harness on,” he adds quickly.
“What climbing wall?”
“That one.” He slides his arm across my shoulder to point me in the right direction.
I have walked this route a million times and never noticed what looks like a torture device standing four stories tall. “It looks terrifying,” I whisper.
“Yeah. But I guess sometimes the things that frighten us the most turn out to be incredible,” he replies. We’re so close that I can feel the warmth emanating from him. I turn to face him, my eyes snagging on his. He reaches up to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear.
I think he’s going to kiss me.
I think I want him to.
But if I let him, I can hardly claim last night was just a one off, just a quick snog in a hotel room before sense took over and we both shut it down. If I let him then maybe I have to admit I have feelings for him. But admitting that is a disaster waiting to happen.