‘The thought of asking Naomi out scares me shitless, too.’ Stan gave her a weak smile. ‘But if I can do it, having been skewered after thirty years of marriage, then a youngster like you can ruddy well do it, too.’
The bar was pleasantly, reassuring, humming when they arrived, but Naomi’s big warm laugh reached their ears before they caught sight of her.
‘Hell’s bells.’
Stan’s muted curse, along with his wide-eyed stare, made Mia smile. ‘She looks amazing, doesn’t she?’
In the café, Naomi always wore an apron over conservative, working clothes. On a night out, she clearly went for it. She was sat on a bar stool, talking with Luke, her black hair slicked back, huge gold ear-rings bouncing as she laughed. The vivid, multicoloured top she wore didn’t just draw the eye, it kind of reached out and grabbed it, demanding attention. The whole look was exotic, sexy. And, unsurprisingly, a bit too much for Stan.
‘That woman doesn’t want the likes of me,’ he muttered. ‘She wants some strapping, larger-than-life character who can play jazz while doing the samba.’
Mia could understand where he was coming from. ‘Funny, I look at Luke and think that guy doesn’t want the likes of me. He wants some tall, leggy model who takes care over her appearance and looks dynamite in a tight dress.’ She glanced down at her jeans and favourite T-shirt.
Stan grunted. ‘Shall we scarper?’
At that moment the people they’d been talking about both turned to look at them.
‘The smile Naomi’s giving you?’ Mia nudged Stan. ‘It says she likes you just as you are.’
And the smile Luke was giving her? It said he’d been watching the door, waiting for her to arrive. And now she had, he wasn’t just delighted, he was relieved.
‘No scarpering then?’
Mia drew in a breath, her eyes on Luke. ‘No scarpering, Stan. We man up and go for what we want.’
‘Easy for you to say.’ When she raised an eyebrow, he waved at her dismissively. ‘You know what I mean. Messages in the window, making you cocktails, taking you on dates that you pretend aren’t dates. The Chipmunk’s been all over you for months. He’s a sure thing.’
‘Naomi gets custard donuts in especially for you. She sends messages to you via me.’ Mia smiled over at the café owner, only to find she was still looking at Stan. ‘But if you don’t think she’s worth sticking your head over the parapet for…’
In a flash Stan left her side and lumbered up to Naomi.
And that’s when she noticed Luke wasn’t behind the bar anymore. He was standing to the right of her. ‘Hi.’
‘Hey.’ His eyes skimmed her face and when they found hers, he smiled straight into them. ‘You’ve no idea how good it is to see you.’
‘You saw me on Saturday.’
He nodded. ‘And you still turned up tonight, so I’m taking that as a good sign.’ He glanced over to Stan. ‘Even though you came with your bodyguard.’
Mia grinned. ‘I’m doing a bit of matchmaking.’
‘Ah.’ They both watched Stan awkwardly hitch up his trousers – she was sure he’d already lost a few pounds – and then point towards the last remaining booth.
‘Do you reckon he has a shot with Naomi?’
Luke’s gaze slid back to hers. ‘I’m more interested in whether I have a shot. With you,’ he added. ‘In case there’s any confusion.’
Luke waited, heart in his mouth, for Mia’s reply. Whatever it might have been, she was saved from having to give it because Mateo started gesticulating frantically at him.
‘Looks like I’m going to have to wait for the answer.’ It’s a Wednesday and the bar is rocking, which is bloody fantastic … that should be your focus. Not Mia. It was frightening to realise he wanted her even more than he wanted his business to be a success. ‘Please tell me you’ll stay till closing?’
‘I will.’ Her lips curved in the hint of a smile. ‘I’ll use the time to think on my reply.’
The fact she had to think at all didn’t bode well, and yet… ‘A straight no you wouldn’t have to think about, right?’
Laughing, she pushed him towards the bar. ‘Go and make cocktails.’
There was something about the glint in her eye, the easy laugh, that sent hope shooting through him. Hope was dangerous, but it was also better than any mood-enhancing drug.
He almost danced back to the bar.
Throughout the evening he caught glimpses of Mia, sometimes chatting with Naomi and Stan, sometimes with Chloe and Tanya who’d turned up despite the fact he’d had awkward conversations with both ladies over the last two months. He also noticed Mia laughing with Gary and Tony, which he tried to be pleased about, because his mates should get along with his girlfriend. Except Mia wasn’t one in the usual sense of the word so the standard mate code, the one that prevented mates making a play for your girlfriend, didn’t apply.
‘Boss, move your arse. I’ve two more orders for one of your “special”,’ Mateo mimed quotation marks, ‘cocktails.’ Then he added under his breath, ‘Though God knows what’s so special about them.’
‘They’re special, because I make them.’ He gave Mateo a cocky grin he didn’t altogether feel. What was he doing, mixing new cocktails like he was some sort of expert? Mia thinks you’re a genius at it. Okay, she might be a whizz at computers, not drinks, but she was smart.
He glanced over at the door, where people were still coming in. And then at the bar, where punters lined up to be served. Many of them had already had a cocktail and were now waiting to order a second.
Maybe she’d been right, and he was a bit of a genius at something, after all.
He was mixing a cocktail for a newly engaged couple – Love Struck, not one of his own, but it seemed to fit the bill – when Mia came up to the bar. Her streaky blue hair stood out among the more boring shades of the other customers. Her T-shirt, showing the evolution of a computer geek from ape to man hunched over a computer, was a far cry from anything the other women were wearing. ‘How’s the matchmaking?’
She took a peek over her shoulder. ‘See for yourself.’
He followed the direction of her gaze to where Naomi and Stan sat. Naomi was throwing her head back in laughter while Stan looked on, his expression one of besotted wonder. ‘Bloody hell, I didn’t realise old Stan had it in him.’
‘He’s a real gem, beneath the bluster.’
‘Do I need to put him on my hit list, along with Gary, Tony and Mateo?’
‘Your hit list?’
‘Yeah, people who pose a threat. People I might feel the need to hit if they get too close to you.’ When her expression turned from confusion to dismay, he swore under his breath. ‘Jeeze Mia, I’m joking. For the record, I’ve never hit anyone in my life. But if I’d said I keep a mental list of people I need to keep a wary eye on in case they start coming on to you, because I’m a jealous bastard, it would have lacked the same punch.’ He gave her a crooked smile. ‘Hit list, punch, that was pretty funny.’
‘God, this is ridiculous.’ She sounded exasperated. ‘You don’t have to keep an eye on anyone.’