Page 3 of The Sicuro

“Good girl,” I breathe out as I keep my eyes on hers before I find myself looking her up and down, thinking of how many ways I can make her scream my name. I ask if she knows who I am and she babbles some comment about me sitting in booth one, which tells me she doesn’t. Standing here, looking at her, speaking minimal words decides it for me. I don’t want her just in my thoughts anymore. I want her, I need to taste her, I am going to have her. I tell her that I have a job for her, and I’ll pick her up later. Again, she babbles some shit about not spending time with members. I state it’s fine, finish my drink and I walk out just as David walks back in. Kelcie is still mumbling, which makes me smile as I leave.

Four

Kelcie

My alarm startles me awake at 8am, I’m in at 10am and the four hours’ sleep I managed to get just isn’t enough. I force my head off my pillow and eventually drag myself up after half an hour, reminding myself that I am done at 4pm and then not back in until Monday evening. I opt to take the evening shifts as it’s slightly more pay and the tips tend to be bigger, the Sunday shifts are rotated between the three of the bar staff. I finally manage to get myself sorted and get to the bar for 9.45am, David is there already sat in the first booth with an empty coffee mug and his computer tapping away. I think he owns and manages the security business and Mr DeMarco contracts the security to him.

“Morning David,” my voice is broken, and I realise it’s the first time I’ve spoken today. I cough slightly, attempting to clear my throat.

“Morning,” his voice is deep and rough.

“Mind if I put the music on?” No words are returned, just a shake of his head as he returns his focus to his computer. Before I turn the music on, I ensure that the speakers at the end where David is are turned off so asnot to disturb him. I make him a fresh coffee and go and replace his mug.

“Cheers Lucy,” he murmurs.

I get to work on the deep clean, it’s methodical but calming, each shelf individually emptied, cleaned, and restocked. Each bottle is cleaned and placed back in the exact spot it came from. Doing this means the bar girls can effortlessly move around and instinctively know where each spirit, glass, and accessory is stored. I work from left to right, top to bottom, fridges are last then stock check. As I start at the bottom left shelf, I’m grateful that I don’t need to be in uniform as I spend a significant time on my knees, but that doesn’t mean I can throw on the jogging bottoms that I would choose to wear. The usual uniform dress is replaced with black straight-legged trousers and a white blouse. Even when the bar isn’t open image is key. I continue cleaning and humming along to the soft music, I have no idea what it is that’s playing, I’ve just turned on the music that’s played when we are open, as I can’t be bothered to go through the palaver of changing it.

I’m on the last bottom right shelf, so have a quick check of the time, it’s 1.30pm which means I’m on track. The pins and needles are starting to kick in down my legs, so I stand up and give them a shake. As I straighten up, I’m startled to see him in the reflection of the mirrors behind the bar’. He’s just standing there, staring, he doesn’t move or speak. I begin to wonder if he’s really there or just a figment of my imagination. I spin aroundputting myself face to face with him, he is here, a gasp escapes my lips. His right arm is resting on the bar, his left hand in his pocket, dressed in yet another suit, that’s moulded to his body challenging me to reach out and touch him. His jacket open and shirt collar unbuttoned. He’s clean shaven, I decide he looks better with a five o’clock shadow. His stare continues and it’s now that I notice the piercing cerulean blue of his eyes, as he looks me dead in mine. I feel like I’ve frozen in time, I just stare back at him unable to speak and goosebumps begin to take over my body. He taps the bar with the index finger of his right hand, I think he’s asking for a drink.

“Sorry Sir, we are currently closed.” My eyes dart around looking for David, where the fuck is he.

“Make the fucking drink Kelcie,” he growls. My eyes widen, he knows my real name, how? My skin prickles, I should be frightened but instead excitement waves through me and my pussy starts to pulsate. Every part of my body is instantly awakened, each sense heightened. I take another look for David who’s nowhere to be seen. I don’t know if I’m terrified or exhilarated that he’s here. My hardened nipples tell me the latter. With David out of sight, I decide that the only choice I really have is to give him a drink.

“Yes Sir.” How I manage to keep my voice clear, and monotone surprises me. I place a single-use paper drinks coaster that has The Sicuro written across it in front of him, a crystalwhisky tumbler onto it and then pour his double 25-year-old neat Dalmore.

“Good girl.” The words leave his lips with praise.I set the bottle back in its place. Turning back to face him, I place my hands behind my back gripping one with the other, squeezing my fingers to confirm that this is real and I’m not dreaming. My body is rigid, and the tension is thick.

“Relax, the bars closed,” his husky voice increased the goosebumps over my body.

I know it’s fucking closed, that’s what I told you, what the fuck is happening, I realise I am still just staring at him, and he still has his eyes locked on mine.

“Is there anything else I can help you with Sir?” I try to say politely and keep my voice clear. He lowers his glass and licks over his lower lip with the tip of his tongue, his gaze running down and back up my body like he wants to taste every part of me. I’m still frozen in place, my pulse starting to race and beat so strong that I swear you would be able to see it in my neck. God this man is intense.

“Do you know who I am, Kelcie?”

My mind is completely blank, and I can’t seem to find any words. But how do I say, the man that has been occupying my every thought, the man that makes me wake in the night, dripping wet and horny after dreaming of you. The man whose image was in my mind as I fucked myself in the shower.

“You have booth number one, Sir.” What the fuck am I saying, he knows I know this. I ammaking myself sound so stupid, how can one person have such an effect on another?

“Maybe it’s time you did.”

“Excuse me?”

“I will pick you up at eight.”

“Sorry Sir, it’s against policy to socialise with members.” Why am I apologising, who does he think he is, telling me that he is picking me up? Presumptuous that I would even accept his offer. His eyes are locked back on mine and I’m starting to think he is more arrogant than confident.

“I will pick you up at eight.” His words are firm. “It’s been cleared with Mr DeMarco.”

Before I have a chance to say anything else, he lifts the glass to his lips, finishes his whisky, turns, and walks out. Just as he leaves David reappears, they nod at each other, and David returns to his seat.

What the fuck has just happened. He will pick me up, and it’s cleared with Mr DeMarco. I doubt it. Dick. Well, he won’t, as I won’t be here. I’m suddenly grateful for the 4pm finish.

“David,” I call out, and I can hear the nerves in my voice. “Who the fuck is that? He just...’ before I finish David cuts me off.

“All in hand Lucy.”

I don’t say anything more and storm back to the bar. I finish all my tasks, muttering to myself pretty much the entire time which seems to drag. I’m glad when I am done and on my way home. The whole interaction with him continually replays in my head. I’ve told myself that I will report it to HR when I get in, as muchas my body wants him, I am not losing my job over him.

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