Page 13 of Hit For Six
‘Seth, Tim and myself ordered the Sixes.’
Nevermind the name of their fancy pants beverages, his voice came out like whisky on the rocks, which totally made it sound like he was trying to chat her up.
‘S-sixes?’ she barely whispered.
‘Actually mine’s a twelve,’ Tim wittered away in the background. ‘Might as well have the next one lined up ready and waiting.’
Now Lola looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Oh, hell. Of course she would. She’d caught Monty’s six, hadn’t she? He was such a bellend. Of all the drinks he could have gone for. And damn, Monty had missed Tim ordering an extra cocktail. He really needed to keep tabs on his teammate tonight. His role as captain wasn’t confined to the boundaries of the pitch.
‘Yes, they were… erm specials from the… blackboard. Made with… erm forest freshly blueberries. I mean… freshly foraged blueberries.’
Tim slapped the bathtub and roared with laughter at that. Until he yelped in pain at the realisation that he’d injured himself, pricking up the antenna of all of the guys at the other bathtubs, plus London. And probably the city of London, too. Oh, fuck. This was a disaster.
‘Then… erm… Sanjay went for the mocktail and Mackenzie ordered Mr. Darcy’s… erm Daiquiri.’
Stop fucking erming!
Confident that he could halve her burden and whisk a few of the drinks away like a gent, Monty moved towards the tray.
‘No! Don’t!’ Lola shouted, causing heads to turn. ‘I-I’ve got this,’ she muttered, doing an excellent job of avoiding eye contact and stilling the tremble in her hands, even if her pallor was still white as snow.
Monty didn’t dare move as she carefully lowered the drinks tray into the copper bathtub and began to shed the glasses one by one, positioning them as close as was (realistically) possible to each customer. He was furious with himself all over again that they’d chosen to sit at such an awkward ‘table’. He’d been to a gin bar once in Barcelona where there was a bathtub that revellers used for photo opportunities when they were trolleyed, sharing them with their I-really-couldn’t-give-a-toss friends back home on social media. But having every single table as a bathtub was wanky. Especially when your staff had to navigate them. Because what this meant for a goddess like Lola was that her skirt hugged her hips and her arse so firmly as she bent over in an unavoidably provocative manner, that it was as if she’d poured herself into her clothes. And Monty had never been envious of clothes before. Not at a single fashion show. He felt the familiar stirrings in his loin and silently berated himself once more for being such a loser. This was not the time or place.
Still, he had to get Lola on her own somehow. He couldn’t leave here tonight without telling her that he might not haveunderstood her motives back in the stadium, but everything was going to be fine. Time would heal– not that she had anything to be embarrassed about with her luscious body– but people would soon forget what had happened. Alright,he wouldn’t forget. The searing hot image of her would forever be imprinted on the back of his retinas.
Which meant that the likes of Tim wouldn’t forget either. The thought of Lola being hassled by randoms or royally pissed teammates, filled him with dread. He was, in part, kind of, sort of responsible, after all. If he hadn’t hit that six, the incident would probably never have happened; the spontaneous idea to get her kit off would never have entered her head.
He’d be lying if he didn’t also admit to wanting to lightly brush her skin to gauge her reaction. Monty needed to know if the recurring dream he’d had about Lola for the past two nights was pure fiction or something that he could turn into a reality.
He wasn’t sure what had come over him. There had been scores of women (not all of them notches on the bedpost because he was delving way back into the washing machine-style kisses of his early teenage past), but none of them had had this effect on him. He just wanted to scoop this girl up and whisk her away from the circus. If Tim had just spoken to her like that, what else had she had to deal with?
His parents would be spitting swan feathers if they could see him right now. Monty didn’t need a mirror to know that his pupils had dilated to the size of cricket balls. She was oblivious to her sex appeal and that just made her all the more gorgeous.
‘Lola? The next order is ready at the bar. Can you help me?’ came the urgent voice of the other waitress at the door.
Lola.Well, she hadn’t corrected Tim when he’d fed her that vulgar line and insulted the world with his horrendous– and horrendously stereotypical– lyrics. So that really was her name.And somehow Monty knew it would be etched on his brain until the end of time.
CHAPTER NINE
Lola
‘Lola, I amsosorry. I should have twigged!’
Maxine hooked her arm through Lola’s and whisked her away to the small kitchen behind the bar, as Stella Arabella and Wilf pretended not to eavesdrop and studiously mixed their mouthwatering potions.
Lola was in such a trance that she couldn’t even feel her feet touching the ground. Had that really just happened?
‘Y-you couldn’t have known who they were when they booked.’ She tried not to sound flustered. ‘I’m okay, really. On with the show!’
‘No, you’re not.’ Maxine held out one of Lola’s shaking hands. ‘You’re not even an hour into your first proper shift. This is deeply unfair. I’ll handle those guys. You stay in the main bar and if things get busy I’ll call Bartek. He’s a total homebody and he lives central so he can be here at the drop of a hat.’
Lola closed her eyes as she finally got her breath back.
‘Thanks, that would… certainly make things a lot easier. I bet you regret taking me on now.’
‘Nonsense!’ Maxine retorted a little too quickly. ‘Give yourself five minutes to compose yourself, and take it easy.’ Lola pasted on what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘Right, I’ll head back to the function room,’ said Maxine. ‘I’ll be flitting in and out of there for the next couple of hours but Stella Arabella and Wilf should be able to help with most things… not that you’ll need them, of course. You’re a natural.’
Maxine patted Lola on the shoulder and sailed out of the room. Lola let out a tremendous sigh as soon as she was outof earshot. She couldn’t stop shaking, and now her teeth were chattering too in a bizarre primeval reaction.
