Page 21 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

‘Not half.’ Dylan looks at the dwindling savings figures on the screen. ‘Liv, I’m sorry to say this, but for a smart girl, you’ve made a right arse of things. I’d have thought, given the upbringing you had – we both had – you’d have been more sensible with money. You were so desperate to leave the estate, and you managed it, reached the high life and all. But you’ve not even set yourself up an “insurance policy” in case things went south. That’s a totally basic error. You could have had about twenty-five grand put away by now, possibly more.’

It’s like a slap in the face as I realise he’s right. I’ve made a total mess of things; monthly salary frittered away on champagne and lavish meals, bonuses blown on exotic holidays. And what have I got left when I really need it? Nada.

‘Dylan, I’m screwed. I’m absolutely screwed. What am I going to do?’ I start to hyperventilate. ‘I’m an idiot.’

‘Ssshh, Squirt,’ he soothes while tapping away on Excel, doing some calculations. ‘You’re not totally stuffed yet. You have one final option.’

‘What?’ I look at him desperately.

‘You’re gonna to have to go suck up to Aaron, and beg for that bar job.’

I’m horrified. ‘I can’t do that!’

‘You can. And you need to.’ Dylan’s tone is soothing but firm. ‘I’ve worked it out. If you work in that bar full-time from next week, and stick to the other budget cuts I’ve suggested, you’ll stay afloat twice as long. It’s that or kiss your apartment, car, everything goodbye. Your choice.’

I take a deep shaky breath, realising he’s right. Another total humiliation; I may as well have a fluorescent sign over my head saying ‘loser’. I had it all – and worst of all, it’s mostly my own doing. Aaron’s offer is my only way out.

‘OK, fine,’ I say. ‘Let’s go to the hotel now. I’ve got some serious damage control to do. And an email’s not going to cut it.’

Dylan shakes his head in amusement. ‘How do you know he’ll even be in the hotel right now? It was yesterday you met him.’

‘I don’t. But he was always around when I worked for him before – bit of a workaholic.’ I shut down my laptop. ‘Oh, one more thing…’

‘What’s that?’

‘Can we stop at Lidl on the way home?’

‘That’s my girl!’ Giving me an affectionate thump on the back that leaves me slightly winded, Dylan leaps off the sofa bed. ‘Let’s go.’

Chapter 6

A short time later I’m standing huddled with Dylan under an umbrella in the drizzling rain, directly across the road from the Mayfield Hotel. Having taken a bus from my apartment to the hotel, which is situated on the fringes of the city centre, just into the south side, we’ve been swallowed whole by the Edinburgh rush hour. The passing commuters rush along the pavement on either side of us: keen to get home after a hard day at the office.

For a few moments, we just take in the hotel’s grand, red sandstone exterior, and row of regal white flag posts sporting the national colours of several countries, boasting the hotel brand’s global reach. Two impeccably dressed porters stand either side of the swanky hotel entrance, and off to the left the hotel chauffeur is standing outside a stretched black limousine, hands behind his back, obviously awaiting the arrival of some wealthy guests. Having stayed in a few luxury hotels over recent years, I’m partial to the beautiful surroundings and the feeling of indulgence and elegance that comes with being a guest.

What I’m not used to, is being on the other side of the bar. I cringe slightly as I imagine what that will feel like.

‘Wowsers.’ Dylan lets out a whistle beside me. ‘This place is bangin’. We going in?’

‘Yes… I guess we are.’ I glance at him, then look him up and down. ‘Actually, would you mind waiting here? Or in that sports bar?’ I point along the street.

‘Oh, I get it.’ Dylan looks down at his outfit. ‘Too scruffy for this type of establishment, am I?’

‘Actually, yes.’ I make no apology. ‘You’re wearing yourmanky trainers, as you called them earlier, and jeans with holes in them. And don’t even get me started on your T-shirt.’

‘It’s statement.’ He looks offended.

‘It’s making a statement all right. An obscene one.’

‘Fine,’ he grumbles and pushes up his nose with the tip of his finger. ‘I’ll just have to make sure I put on my coat tails when I come to visit you at your work.’

‘Ha ha.’ I put on a fake laugh. ‘Now away you go, before I change my mind about this.’

Dylan skulks off down the street as I take a deep breath and cross the road. The doormen greet me as I approach the entrance; one of them opens the door for me.

‘Evening, madam.’ He gives a little half-bow.

‘Evening.’ I smile politely, thinking miserably that that’s probably the first and last time that will happen here – it’ll be the staff entrance from now on, if I haven’t already burned my opportunity.

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