Page 36 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

Reyes tuts at him noisily.

‘Just kidding.’ He reaches round the door and gives her a playful push. ‘I’m working anyway. Someone’s got to pick up the slack while you two go off gallivanting – and on a Thursday night as well. Who authorised that?’

‘Yeah, I’m surprised too,’ I say. ‘I wouldn’t have thought we’d both be given time off together on one of the busiest nights of the week.’

‘Just enjoy it,’ says Amir. ‘It won’t happen often. Anyway, I’m on with the lads tomorrow – Marcel and Piotr. Looking forward to an oestrogen-free zone.’

He gives me a wink and I shake my head at him, knowing full well he’s just trying to wind Reyes up. Thankfully, it appears that she hasn’t yet learned the English words for hormones, so another one-sided war doesn’t erupt.

‘You’d have been very welcome to join us,’ I say. ‘One day when we all have time off together.’

‘Chance would be a fine thing.’ Amir rolls his eyes and then disappears back into the storeroom.

Just as we’re using the quiet time to get a few extra bar maintenance tasks done, there’s a loud commotion outside on the street. It’s getting dark outside, but I can see a large group of after-work drinkers making their way towards the revolving doors of the bar. They’ve obviously already been elsewhere, their boisterousness giving this away.

Reyes and I share a look that says,here we go. Having an easy night was obviously too much for us to expect.

The group enjoy much hilarity trying to navigate the revolving doors, which spit them out into the bar, two at a time, looking slightly dishevelled. I pay them little attention as I clear away the cleaning materials I’ve been using to polish the bar top. I’m now used to dealing with all kinds of punters. But on returning to the bar, I glance over to the group, who are now deliberating over where to sit, and stop short.

‘Oh. SHIT!’ I instinctively dive into the storeroom.

It’s not just any pack of well-oiled office workers, it’smypack of well-oiled office workers. I peer round the door and see Anya bouncing up and down, chatting animatedly to Stella, Tom trying to engage a disinterested and glued-to-his-phone Derek in conversation, Sharon preaching her usual distasteful garbage to a flock of awestruck onlookers, and Dom and Marta are engaged in what can only be described as serious sexual tension, despite the fact they’re both married to other people and have kids.

‘What is wrong, Chica?’ Reyes enters the storeroom, regarding me quizzically. ‘This is fine. They are a bit loud, yes, but you are used to this now.’

I look at her helplessly. She has no idea. I can’t go out there and let them see me. It will be professional and social suicide. What are they even doing here? It’s completely the other side of town for them – they usually hang out in the most popular and exclusive West End and city centre haunts. I realise there’s only one thing for it if I’m to avoid total humiliation: I have to tell the truth.

‘Reyes, they’re my friends. Well some of them, anyway. They’re all ex-colleagues.’

‘So, that is good, no?’ She looks confused. ‘You can say hello and spend some time with them.’

‘Nooo. It’s not good.’ I start to shake with anxiety. ‘They don’t know I work here. I told them I had some amazing communications job – so that they wouldn’t think I was a loser. They can’t see me. They just can’t.’ My eyes are pleading.

‘But if they are your friends—’ Reyes is clearly still trying to understand ‘—why would they think this? They should be supporting you.’

I don’t have an answer for this.

‘What’s up?’ Amir looks from my terrified face to Reyes, as he comes up the steps from the cellar, having fitted the new beer keg.

‘Amir, why Liv’s friends are thinking she is loser for working here?’ Reyes asks.

‘If they were real friends, they wouldn’t.’ He gives me a searching look, then his eyes land on my ex-colleagues through the open storeroom door, and a flicker of comprehension crosses his face. ‘Ah, I see. Are these your old drinking buddies from when you worked in the corporate world?’

‘How did you know that?’ I’m stunned.

‘Educated guess.’ Amir shrugs. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work out what type of company this lot are from. And it was even more obvious that you weren’t a bar worker by trade.’

‘Good detective skills.’ I sigh defeatedly, chewing on one of my perfectly (now self-manicured) nails.

‘Oh, Chica.’ Reyes puts her arm around me. ‘You should not feel like this. I am hating this for you.’

‘Don’t worry.’ Amir pats my arm. ‘Why don’t you find some more cleaning tasks to complete in here and we’ll deal with this lot. It’s still quiet enough, even with that lot in.’

‘Yes, this will work,’ Reyes agrees. ‘You stay back here.’

‘Thank you both so much. I really owe you for this.’ I’m flooded with temporary relief at this suggestion.

Reyes and Amir head out into the bar, leaving me alone, glad of the reprieve but still reeling. I pick up the list of bar maintenance and cleaning tasks, but the words swim in front of my face. What if they decide they like this place and it becomes a regular haunt for them? I won’t be able to hide every time. I’m so lost in panic and dismay, I fail to notice Clara’s swooping approach from behind.

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