Page 29 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

‘I think you are right. But we can still beamigas.’ She gives me a playful nudge. ‘And I can work on you.’

‘No chance.’ I shake my head. ‘I’m on a one-way path. Nothing will change that.’

As I say this, the creeping doubts over my ability to fulfil my dream start to intrude into my consciousness. I give my head a firm shake to scatter them and send them scurrying back to where they came from.

‘Nothingwill change that,’ I repeat, more for my own benefit than for Reyes.

‘We will see.’ Reyes’s eyes glint mischievously, as she pulls out the bar training manual from a cupboard under the sink.

Chapter 8

A few hours later, the dimly lit bar is half full and the orders have been coming in steadily. A smooth funky beat pounds through the speakers, peppered with lively chat and sporadic peals of laughter from the punters. It may only be Monday, but the vibe almost rivals a Friday night party atmosphere. Reyes and I have been joined by Amir, who is doing table service, sending in orders via the Waiter Pad and delivering the trays of drinks we make up. After a series of abysmal attempts to pull pints, I have been relegated to spirits and mixers, and bottled drinks.

‘You are good, Chica?’ Reyes shouts over to me, as I’m making up two double Teasmith’s gins with Fever-Tree tonic and a Tanqueray No. 10 with slimline, to add to a handful of gin cocktails that Reyes has been mixing.

‘Yeah, fine,’ I call back, flustered. ‘Nearly done.’

Despite having by far the more complex part of the two orders we’re working on, Reyes has her drinks ready before me. Between faffing around trying to find the right glasses, and taking an inordinate amount of time locating the right gins from the array of bottles in the bar, I’ve completely failed the efficiency test.

‘Done.’ I breathlessly plonk the drinks on the waiting tray, which is instantly whipped away and delivered to the waiting tables by Amir. ‘What’s next?’

‘Next. You breathe,’ Reyes instructs me. ‘We have no more orders for now.’

I lean on the bar and let out an enormous sigh.

‘This is exhausting, Reyes. I’d totally forgotten how much energy is required for a job like this. It’s only been busy for a couple of hours and already I’m done. My feet are insanely painful!’

‘Aww, Chica. I am sorry. This is not busy at all. Wait till the weekend.’

‘That’s not what I need to hear – at all,’ I whine.

‘You go for your break now,’ says Reyes. ‘Have some resting time.’

‘Are you sure? I could actually do with a breather.’ I give her a grateful look. ‘Sorry, I’ll get better, I promise.’

‘It is fine. You go.’ Reyes blows me a little kiss. ‘I know you will be better. You just need time and some more training. Now, go!’

I head out of the bar to the staff area, to retrieve my phone from my locker. As I press the home button and the screen illuminates, I see I have a Messenger message from Dylan from an hour before.

How’s your first shift going?

I quickly tap out a response.

Awful. Horrible. Exhausting. Boss from hell. Hate you for making me do this!

He replies almost instantly.

Glad it’s going well.

Irritated by his response, I quickly compose and send another message.

What part of that made you think it’s going well?? I hate it!!

Annoyed, I shove my phone in my tunic pocket, leave the changing rooms and wander down the corridor; unsure of where to go or what to do. As I walk, I feel a buzz on my hip and pull out my phone again. Another message from Dylan.

You’re still there, so it’s going well. :) Still good for lunch tomorrow?

‘Arrghh,sod off, Dylan!’ I shout at my phone.

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