Page 14 of Hit For Six (Balls and Banter #1)

CHAPTER NINE

Lola

‘Lola, I am so sorry. I should have twigged!’

Maxine hooked her arm through Lola’s and whisked her away to the small kitchen behind the bar, as Stella Arabella and Wilf pretended not to eavesdrop and studiously mixed their mouthwatering potions.

Lola was in such a trance that she couldn’t even feel her feet touching the ground. Had that really just happened?

‘Y-you couldn’t have known who they were when they booked.’ She tried not to sound flustered. ‘I’m okay, really. On with the show!’

‘No, you’re not.’ Maxine held out one of Lola’s shaking hands.

‘You’re not even an hour into your first proper shift.

This is deeply unfair. I’ll handle those guys.

You stay in the main bar and if things get busy I’ll call Bartek.

He’s a total homebody and he lives central so he can be here at the drop of a hat. ’

Lola closed her eyes as she finally got her breath back.

‘Thanks, that would… certainly make things a lot easier. I bet you regret taking me on now.’

‘Nonsense!’ Maxine retorted a little too quickly.

‘Give yourself five minutes to compose yourself, and take it easy.’ Lola pasted on what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

‘Right, I’ll head back to the function room,’ said Maxine.

‘I’ll be flitting in and out of there for the next couple of hours but Stella Arabella and Wilf should be able to help with most things…

not that you’ll need them, of course. You’re a natural. ’

Maxine patted Lola on the shoulder and sailed out of the room. Lola let out a tremendous sigh as soon as she was out of earshot. She couldn’t stop shaking, and now her teeth were chattering too in a bizarre primeval reaction.

This was her worst nightmare. She hadn’t noticed that stupid Six cocktail chalked up on the new specials board either.

When did that sneak on? And it couldn’t have been more obvious that she found Monty drop dead mmmmm .

She could barely string a sentence together or look him in the eye.

Even now, the thought of being in his orbit made her body tremble with desire.

Lola blew out air from her cheeks before she tentatively made her way back to the bar as if nothing had happened.

‘Alright chick?’ asked Stella Arabella.

‘Just a bit of a wobble.’

‘We’ve all been there.’ Lola doubted that someone as outwardly meticulous had ever been so foolish.

‘Wilf’s stepped in to take some orders. I can handle making the cocktails for the next fifteen minutes, by which time that little lot next door will be after round two.

Why not prep me a load of lemons and get your zen back? ’

‘As long as you’re sure? That sounds like an excellent idea.’

Stella Arabella gestured at the workstation and did a quick demo of her required slice thickness, then left Lola to it.

‘Teamwork!’ said Wilf, bringing over a tray of empties and high fiving Lola before rushing off to take the orders for a newly-arrived table of four ladies dressed in Jane Austen attire. Thankfully she’d remembered to put down her knife.

Slowly but surely, she managed to calm herself, focusing on the repetitive activity.

‘Good job!’ said Stella Arabella a couple of minutes later, smiling with genuine satisfaction at the neatness of Lola’s yellow discs. ‘You can do the limes next.’ She tilted her head at the basket of green fruit. ‘I’m just nipping to the cellar to stock up on rum. Won’t be a tick.’

‘Great!’

Lola pasted on a smile, head down and back to business.

She hated Julian. She truly did. Even if she already sensed that his disgusting deeds were inadvertently pushing her to do something more fulfilling with her life.

The past forty-eight hours had been a strange autopilot fug and now her emotions were catching up.

Tomorrow she had yet another milestone to encounter; the joys of the office.

Would the ripple effects of his behaviour ever stop?

‘I meant what I said earlier,’ an alarming male voice cut across her thoughts, causing Lola to almost slice her finger.

She didn’t need to look up to know that it wasn’t Monty. This inflection was pure menace. It had been groomed in the same school of thought as Julian’s.

‘I’m working. Please leave me alone.’

Lola refused to give Tim the grace of eye contact and kept chopping away, seething that her slices were getting thicker and thicker.

‘But that’s not what you want and we know it, don’t we, Lola ?

’ Tim chuckled, slouching across the bar to make eyes at her.

Lola could sympathise with yet another of the queens from SIX; this time, apparently, her current life narrative was on a par (pun not intended, but frustratingly apt) with Catherine Howard.

‘A girl like you is offering it up on a plate and it seems that I’m the only one who is man enough to do anything about it. ’

Before she could think of a suitable comeback or cry for help, Tim and his sleek brown Lego haircut had casually walked to the other end of the bar and flipped its top open, as if it was his birthright.

When Lola finally found the courage to acknowledge her fate, it was to take in the sickening sight of his body grinding its way toward her, accompanied by a slimy smile.

‘I… if you take one step closer I will not be responsible for my actions,’ Lola rambled, determined to keep her voice down so as not to attract any more unwanted attention, even if her heart was jumping out of her chest for fear of what was going to happen next.

‘That’s alright. I’m more than happy to oversee proceedings, babe.’

Tim inched forward, eyes closed, fingers wiggling, hands reaching for her hips.

Lola had to act quickly. She stood stockstill and waited for him to open his eyes again, wincing as his fingertips grappled with her waist. She could have directed the two lime halves in her hands at his face, squeezing the life out of them, knowing already that it would make her look like a psycho bitch because nobody else had noticed what the guy was up to.

But at the last second, she realised she didn’t want to go as far as to damage his sight.

Even if, right now, he didn’t deserve an ounce of her consideration.

Luck was on his side today. She dropped the fruit and made a grab for the bowl of ice cubes, launching them at his head instead.

What she didn’t see was the other guy catapulting himself over the bar. And then the lights went out as Tim’s screams pierced the air.