Page 7 of Promise Me Ever After
Our mum Sonya, was the Operations Manager at the Ealynn Marina Hotel. The hotel was the biggest in our town and almost everyone I knew had worked there at some point. I’d done a work experience stint there when I’d been at school, which had sparked my interest in cooking. I knew all about Ems Berry. Mum had tried to fix me up with her. Not sure what I’d done to have both my mum and sister meddle in my love life.
“Thanks, but I don’t need your Cupid skills.” I shoved a forkful of pasta into my mouth. “I’m perfectly capable of finding someone myself.”
Curtis snorted; no doubt reminded of our conversation the previous evening. It definitely wasn’t Justin I was moping after, nor any of the flings I’d had over the summer. The person occupying front and centre of my mind right now was someone I met last night.
Georgie Cavanagh was something else.
Not only did she command the front of house with immense confidence, but she was hot with it. Dark, honey coloured hair which fell to her shoulders in soft waves, an awesome rack and legs that went on for days. We’d barely exchanged more than a dozen words last night, but I already knew I wanted to get to know her better.
Although if I gave Amber even the slightest hint, she’d be like a dog with a bone.
“Ugh, you needsomething,” she sighed, rolling her eyes, “are you sure you don’t want me to ask Sara if she’s interested?”
I banged my wine glass down on the table. “Amber. I’m sure. All I need is a decent night out with the lads.” I shot a pointed look in Curtis’s direction. “Although you’ve got this one on such a tight leash, he’s never allowed out to play.”
“Bollocks,” Curtis protested. “We work opposite shifts most of the time. It’s hard to sort a proper night out.”
He had a point, but I missed the familiarity of our nights out; evenings in The Old Dock followed by a late one at Vaughans, exchanging fake numbers with girls I’d never see again and flirting with those I wanted to.
“You can always come around here for dinner,” Amber suggested. “Once a week, pre-arranged, of course,” she added quickly.
I snorted. “Thanks, sis. Nothing I love more than third wheeling around you two.” I wiped the final piece of garlic bread around my plate, mopping up the remainder of the tomato sauce. My knife and fork clattered on the dish as I leaned back and patted my stomach. “What’s for dessert?”
“I thought you were bringing something.” Amber stood up and started clearing away our plates. “That was the deal.”
“Then I’m the worst brother in the world.” I let out a sigh. Some tiramisu or a cream eclair would really finish the meal off. “It’s too late to get anything now though.”
“The corner shop’s still open,” called Amber from the kitchen.
“And it’s not far,” Curtis chipped in.
Reluctantly, I hauled myself up from the chair. It was less than a five-minute walk and I’d be back in ten. And Amberhadcooked dinner. If I didn’t do my part, I’d never hear the end of it. “Won’t be long.”
I let myself out of their flat and walked downstairs. Their flat was on the second floor of a three-storey terraced house which had once been all one property. A developer had turned it into three spacious two-bedroom apartments, all of which had been snapped up within minutes of going on the market. Amber and Curtis lucked out when they found out one was coming up for long-term rent. I wasn’t a total bastard, and I didn’t deny my sister her happiness, but at only twenty-three she was already on a different journey than me. Sometimes it sure didn’t seem like I was the older brother, even if I was twenty-six and still living at home with my mum.
The corner shop was still open and empty, apart from a bunch of lads trying to decide which family pack of crisps to buy. I watched them wistfully for a moment, remembering nights when Justin, Curtis and me would do the same thing.
God, I really was turning into a sad, lonely man.
Turning my attention to the fridges, I searched for the sweet treats I wanted. Clutching my tiramisu and chocolate eclairs to my chest, I went to the till, knowing the tiramisu would be crap. If I were less of a lazy fucker I’d grab some eggs and whip up a French meringue, but it was my night off.
Lost in my own thoughts, I barely noticed a woman cut me up in the queue. Normally, I’d have made a fuss, but something about her demeanour stopped me. Dressed in leggings and an oversized hoodie which hid her body, she stepped for the counter with empty hands.
“Can I get a pack of Marlboro red, please?”
I stifled a smile.Nicotine junkie looking for a late-night fix.After she’d paid, she half-turned towards me and nodded, as if thanking me for letting her cut the queue.
“Georgie?” My mouth fell open. She was the last person I expected to run into at the local corner shop.
“Alex.”
Her hazel green eyes met mine. They were tinged with sadness and I wondered what had made her unhappy.
And what I could do to make them smile again.
3
Georgie
