The Story Of Us - Jones Lesley (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений txt) 📗

CHAPTER 10

Over the next few weeks I went back to the wine bar with Ashley and every time I saw tall, dark and handsome there and every time, he would smile, nod and send over a bottle of champagne, but make no effort to come and talk to me. After about three weeks, Ash finally convinced me to go out clubbing after we had drinks; my Dad had bought into a club in the West End of London so I’d got him to put us on the guest list. I had no idea what to expect but was willing to give it a go. TDH, as Ash and I had nicknamed him, had sent over his usual bottle of bubbly and when we were leaving he clamped his hand around my wrist and gently pulled me into him. “Enjoy the rest of your night Georgia.”

My head jerked back, not just because I was surprised that he knew my name, but because of the sensation that shot through me, caused by his hand on my wrist, the sound of his voice and the feel of his breath on the side of my face, neck and in my ear. I swallowed hard and looked him right in the eye, then over his face, he was bloody handsome and a lot older than me, I was about to turn twenty, he looked thirty-ish.

I don’t know where I found her, but suddenly, confident little fifteen year old George appeared. “Thank you for the champagne, but whether I enjoy the rest of my night, has absolutely fuck all to do with you, now take your hands off me and don’t touch me uninvited again… Ever!” I go to yank my wrist from his grasp when his hand clamps onto me tighter.

“Such an angry little kitten, with such sad eyes. Who hurt you Georgia? Who took the light out of those pretty blue eyes ehh?”

My first instinct is to slap him but he has a hold of my right wrist and I’ve drunk a bottle of Moet and two Southern Comfort and lemonades so I’m not sure how good my aim will be with my right.

“Let go of my wrist,” I say quietly through gritted teeth, he does exactly the opposite and pulls me in to his chest and places his hand at the small of my back, pressing me into him. Fucking hell, he’s got a hard on and its pressing right into my belly. I give out a little gasp - shit, shit, shit, he knows I can feel him.

“Next time you walk into my bar, me and you are going to find a quiet corner and sit and have a chat and you kitten are going to tell me all about the arsehole that made you so sad and so angry.”

Shit, he owns the place? Explains why he can afford to keep dishing out bottles of Moet, I bet he does it to all the birds he fancies and there was me thinking I was all it and a bit!

I keep looking into his eyes. “Well, looks like I won’t be walking into your bar again and best start looking for somewhere else to drink.”

He takes a step back and looks me up and down. “You’ll be back, if you’re not, then I’ll just have to come and find you; now do as I say, go and have some fun, I want those eyes to have some light in them next time I see you.” He turns me around, smacks my arse and sends me on my way.

For two whole weeks I avoid the wine bar, forcing Ashley to drink in the pub down the road with me instead, it’s not as nice and twice I have heard songs played in there that I think are by Carnage. I haven’t heard any of their latest stuff but I would know Sean’s voice anywhere. Both times I ducked into the toilets and waited long enough for the song to end but we never hang around there long, after the great night we had at my Dad’s new place, I’ve decided I have a few years of clubbing to catch up on and we’ve been to three other clubs since then. Ash is still as wild as she was at school and loves a few lines of coke on a night out and I must admit to having joined her every time we’ve been out lately. I just love the instant rush and the confidence it gives me; the new drug of choice on the club scene is ecstasy, but I remember Sean and Jimmie telling me it makes you horny and that’s the last thing I need to be feeling, more so than I already am lately. For the first time since I was of an age to think about boys in any kind of romantic or sexual way, my thoughts haven’t all been about Sean, he’s there, always, painfully so, but lurking in the corner now, with that smile on those soft lips and a spark in those warm brown eyes is Mr TDH. I still have no idea of his name and have no intention of going back to the wine bar to find out, not yet anyway.

It’s a Thursday night in the middle of September, my birthday is this coming Saturday and I’m going out for drinks and then on to my Dad’s club with Ash, Jimmie and a few of the other girls that work at the shop for us. I’ve been in the West End meeting with buyers all day with my Mum and have just called into the Brentwood shop to pick up my new dress I ordered in for Saturday night. Ashley and Lorna are the only two staff left as it’s just fifteen minutes till closing.

I notice Ash looks terrible. “You okay babe, you look rough as fuck.”

She takes a deep sigh, shakes her head and looks at me with a frown. “I came on this morning, my belly’s cramping like a bitch, I need to go home, get my jarmies on and curl up with my Danielle Steele book and a hot water bottle.”

Periods ergh, hate the bloody things, I suffer terribly with period pain myself and know it’s no fun being on your feet all day when it feels like your womb is being ripped out of your fanny! “Go and get your bag and go home babe, I’ll lock up.”

“Ah George, you’re a star, I’m not even gonna argue, thank you.” She really is pale.

“Go! Open up at ten tomorrow, don’t rush in, we’re never busy first thing anyway, I’ll leave a note in the window now, just to let the customers know.” Ashley comes from out the back with her latest Louis Vuitton bag on her arm.

“Ash, you’re spending more than you bloody earn on bags and shoes lately.”

“Nahh.” She smiles. “This is a fake, got it down the Roman the other week, good though ain’t it?”

“Ashley Morrison, if my Mother sees that you will be out on your arse, do not bring fake shit into our shop, if trading standards ever came in they would go through our entire stock and our reputation would be ruined.”

I don’t mean to pull rank but fuck, my mother would absolutely flip. “Shit George, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think of that.”

I shake my head at her. “Go home Ash, curl up with your book and get a lay in, in the morning and do not bring that bag back here again.”

She kisses my cheek and leaves. “Lorna, get cashed up and you can go too.”

I run up stairs to have a look at the work on my flat, everything is done except for the tiling in the kitchen and the painting. I’m just heading down the stairs when Lorna appears at the bottom.

“I called Dave to come get me early and he’s here but a customer’s just come in, dya want me to wait?”

“Na, you go, I’ll deal with them.” I make my way down the stairs as I speak.

“Okay, thanks George, don’t forget to leave the note about opening late in the window, thanks for letting me leave early, I’ll see you later.”

“Night,” I call after her. I’m so lucky with the team I have at Brentwood, we’ve had nothing but trouble with the team that run the Romford shop, but my Brentwood girls are great. We have no problems with bitching or sickness and the girls are always happy to work late or come in early if they’re needed. I head over to the handbags with a smile on my face, I can just see the top of someone’s hair as they bend down and look at something, at least it’s bags and not shoes, then I would be here all bloody night.

“Can I … What the fuck do you want?”

“Charming Kitten, is that how you approach all your customers?”

“Get out of my shop!” He completely ignores me.

“I want to buy a bag for my sister, it’s her twenty-first on Saturday, what’s the latest thing, Louis, Gucci, what are the girls into at the moment?”

What do I do, make him leave or make the sale? I could be kicking out a potential five hundred pound profit. Shit, fuck, bollocks, arseholes!