CHAPTER Four
Christopher
I pull out my Victoria Ainsworth one-of-a-kind suit and hold it up. During last year’s London Fashion Week, I bought this outfit and, usually, I wouldn’t hesitate to put it on. The wool woven herringbone is dapper, as my grandfather would say. It’s the sort of suit that turns heads.
Glancing back into my wardrobe, I touch my plain blue Ralph Lauren polo shirt. It’s designer, but not as flashy as the suit. Jeans and a shirt are the modest option. Toning down my image isn’t for anyone else’s benefit, although it’s inspired by Nellie’s words. I’m trying to think simpler, which could save me from a repeat of last weekend. Maybe I shouldn’t take out women I don’t share any values with.
I put the suit in the wardrobe and pull out my phone from my jeans pocket. Unlocking the screen, I fire up the dating app, finding tonight’s match. Carrie is a self-made millionaire from Essex. She’s in Liverpool for the weekend on business and staying in one of the luxury apartments in town. On paper, she sounds perfect. She’s not local, so I won’t have to avoid certain places, her career is her main priority, and surely, she isn’t looking for a long-distance relationship.
My finger hovers over the reply button. Carrie looks nice and easy-going, but for some reason, I’m just not feeling it. I shoot her a quick message: I’m going to need to take a raincheck. Sorry to let you down.
She sends me a frowning selfie, but I don’t message back. I’ve done the right thing. One last first date isn’t what I want, and it’s better to end it now rather than figuring all this out while at the bar.
Grabbing my polo shirt, I pair it with black jeans. Once I’ve put on my cologne, I go to find my grandfather.
“Going out again I see,” he says.
“Yeah. I shouldn’t be so late tonight.” I’ve cancelled my date, so that’s probably true, but I’m not sure why I said it. I’m a man without a plan. Yet, I still know I’m going to Sweet Cocktails.
“Have a good night. Do you want me to send someone to pick up your car?”
“If Dad’s offering, I might have a lift too.” I wink at my grandpa, knowing my question is cheeky. My dad picks up my car on Saturday night after he gets back from taking my mum to bingo. We say our goodbyes, and I grab my keys from the kitchen table.
I get into my car, wind the windows down, and drive across the city to the docks. The warm breeze feels good without my suit jacket. Tonight, the air seems fresher than usual. I’m feeling lighter without the company of a stranger in the passenger seat.
When I get into the bar, my gaze immediately roams for Nellie, but I can’t see her. Someone else is polishing the glasses, she’s not on the main floor serving, and someone else brings the wine from the back room. She always works Saturday nights, so where is she? I move into my usual booth with a good view of the bar.
The space begins to fill up and the staff are rushed off their feet. Twenty minutes pass while I people watch. No one serves me, Nellie doesn’t show, and instead of having a date to stare at, I find myself seeking out someone I shouldn’t care about. Nellie and I aren’t friends. Actually, I barely know her.
After checking my watch, I get up, ready to leave. Something’s glitched tonight. Either not having a date has unset my balance, or I’m missing my non-friend.
As I turn to face the door, the woman in question finally pushes through it. Her cheeks are rosy-red, her hair is a mess, and she’s panting for air. She looks like she’s run a marathon.
She holds up her hand, getting the attention of one of the bartenders. “I’m here,” she says, loud enough for everyone to hear. People look at her, and the person behind the bar waves with relief.
“What happened?” I ask, walking over to her. An overwhelming desire to touch her overcomes me, but I don’t act on it. Instead, I push my hands into my pockets.
What is happening to me? I shouldn’t care why she’s late.
Her eyes widen as she takes me in. “Mr McNabb. You look different.”
Hearing my formal title rubs me the wrong way. I want her to call me by my Christian name. Usually, she sees me in a suit, but I wasn’t wearing one earlier. Dare I say I want her to see me as more than a customer? “I’m still dressed to impress.” I smile at her, showing off my threads. All the feelings mixed in my head aren’t going to lead anywhere, so I squash them down.
“Is your date dazzled?” She smiles, clearly amused.
I scratch the back of my head, ready to admit a little bit of the truth. “Actually, I cancelled on her.”
“Oh.” Her lips drop, but she recovers quickly, only her smile isn’t as playful.
“Nellie,” one of the staff shouts. Some of the customers at the bar throw us a dirty look. Coming back to our senses, we notice the crowd around us. I can’t be taking up all her time when she has work to do.
“Coming,” she replies. “I have to go.” She talks to a few of the girls before heading into the back.
The booth I was sitting in is now taken by an older couple, and I’m ready to let it go. I look around for somewhere to perch.
Tonight seems like a bust; maybe I should go home. It would save my dad a trip, and I don’t have company anyway. I rub my neck while pondering over my decision.
Nellie reappears in the bar area with her uniform on and her tamed hair tied up. One of the members of staff says something to her, then they both look directly at me. She waves me over and gestures to one of the stools.
It takes me only a few seconds to follow her instruction. She’s giving the branch I need to take the next step, and even though I didn’t realise I needed it, I accept. I sit down, and she puts a glass of whiskey in front of me.
“Thanks,” I say.
She smiles and moves to the next customer. I watch her serve the people waiting until Sweet Cocktails starts to quieten down. She refills my drink a couple of times, and I spend my time people-watching. There’s a married couple relaxed in each other’s company, and new couples trying to impress each other. It gets me thinking about what I want. Maybe the old married couple isn’t what I had in mind, but the new one no longer excites me either.
A group of guys about my age are having a laugh at the far end of the bar. They’re rowdy, obnoxious, and getting louder.
Nellie goes over to serve them. “What can I get you guys?” She sounds merry, but I bet she doesn’t feel it.
“You look like a yummy snack. Are you on the menu?” a guy with black hair and a well-groomed beard says. I clench my fist tightly around my glass.
“Sorry, I’m not. All Sweet Cocktails drinks are on the menu.” She hands over one and the men look at it.
“I’ll take you in a bikini martini,” the guy says, making his friends laugh.
“Great choice in cocktail, but like I said, I’m not available.” He mutters something I don’t quite catch, and I grit my teeth.
“I’m nobody’s baby,” she says, shaking her head.
I can’t take anymore. I’m out of my chair and moving across the room as anger boils under my skin. “She told you she’s not interested,” I say.
Everyone looks at me. Nellie’s mouth hangs open, and the guy curls his lip at me. With his friend behind him, he probably doesn’t see me as a threat, but that doesn’t mean I won’t put him in his place.
“Who are you?” he asks, thrusting out his chest.
“That’s irrelevant. I’m trying to enjoy my drink and would rather not listen to you harass the lovely lady here.”
“Is this guy your boyfriend?” he asks Nellie, ignoring me.
“Our relationship is none of your business. Are we settled on bikini martinis all round?”
“Make it beers and we’ll calm down,” another of the guys says. The men talk amongst themselves before nodding in response. She pulls the pints and the men keep their word.
I settle back on my stool, and she comes over to talk to me. “Thanks for your help, but I can handle this myself,” she says, filling up my glass.
From what I’ve seen she’s a strong, independent woman. Earlier, she needed my help at the sports hall, but this is different. At work, she’s never needed me before. I don’t mean to be protective of her. It’s like a switch has flipped and I don’t know how to turn it back off.
“I know you can look after yourself, but I couldn’t just sit here.”
“I’m just having a bad day. From the minute I woke up, everything has gone wrong. I can handle myself, though.”
“Is that why you were late for work?”
“My car wouldn’t start. I had to get the bus.”
“Why didn’t you get a taxi?”
She averts her eyes. “I don’t have money to throw around.”
“I could’ve…” My phone rings, and I reach into my pocket. Dad comes up on the screen. “Hang on a minute,” I say. She goes to serve a customer, and I press answer. “Hello.”
“Hi, Chris. Me and your mother are on our way home from bingo. Do you need your car picking up?” he asks.
I’m over the driving limit, so I won’t be getting behind the wheel tonight. I glance at Nellie. If she got the bus, I wonder how she’s getting home. By the time the bar closes, there won’t be any public transport. If she doesn’t have the cash, is she planning on walking? “No. I have it covered. How was bingo?”
“Your mother’s spending my money rather than winning.”
I hear my mum protest, and I chuckle. “Okay, I’ll see you both back at home.”
“Night,” they both shout.
Nellie’s finishing up with a customer as our gaze locks. She moves over to me. “Why are you staring at me?” she asks.
“How are you planning on getting home?”
Her eyebrows pull together in confusion. “It’s probably going to take me an hour, but I’m going to walk. Why do you ask?”
That was not the answer I wanted to hear. Shining knight isn’t usually the role I play in women’s lives, but Nellie’s making it hard not to consider it. “My car’s in the car park, and I thought you could drive me home, then I’ll pick my car up from yours tomorrow.”
“Are you drunk? I bet your car is worth more than my annual salary. I can’t drive that with or without you in the passenger seat.” She puts her hands on her hips.
“Why not?” I try to hide my amusement.
“If I got a tiny scratch on your precious car, I wouldn’t be able to pay the bill to fix it. I don’t need any more negative karma. Do you normally drive here? You shouldn’t be doing anything that could damage that pretty face. Can’t you just leave it in the car park until tomorrow?”
“My dad usually picks it up, but he can’t tonight,” I lie. “You’re my only hope.”
She rubs the back of her neck while she considers my offer. “Okay, but I’m not covering any damage.”
I laugh. I’ve seen her balance a tower of champagne glasses on a thin silver tray. I’m certain she has an eye for detail and will look after my car.