“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!
“The Louis, the one you were just looking at, it’s new in this week.”
“Then I’ll take that one, I’d also like a pair of sunglasses and a scarf, whichever you think are appropriate for a twenty one year old.”
I tilt my head sideways. “Your sister’s very lucky.” And very spoilt, I think to myself.
“She has three big brothers, I don’t know if I would call her lucky.”
“I would, I have three big brothers and I consider myself very lucky, I love them like nothing else.” Except Sean. Why did I tell him about my brother’s? Fuckeration, he needs to buy this bag and go! He looks over my face for a few seconds.
“Do you realise, how much your eyes just lit up when you spoke about your brothers?” I blush instantly. Ohhh, for God’s sake, get a grip Georgia; I shake my head and look down at the carpeted floor of the shop but rear back as I feel his knuckle brush across my cheek.
“What happened to you kitten? Why don’t you come over to the wine bar and let me buy you a drink, just a drink, nothing else, unless you want more?” I want to lean into his hand that is now cupping the side of my face, his thumb is gently brushing over my lips but I don’t, I can’t, I won’t.
“What colour scarf were you thinking of?” He smiles gently at me and sighs, puts his hands into the pockets of his light blue denim jeans and rocks back on his heels.
“You choose the colour kitten, I’m happy with whatever you choose, you must be a similar age to my sister so she will like whatever you do.” Closer in age than you could ever imagine I think to myself.
I instantly turn into my mother and become the perfect sales consult, helping him select a pair of Gucci sunglasses, a Chanel scarf and a Louis wallet to match the bag, He stands and watches me while I wrap his purchases in tissue with his hands dug deep in the pockets of his jeans. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and a tan sued bomber jacket and he smells absolutely divine, I think it’s Givenchy, my brother Bailey wears it, and there’s a hint of something softer, florally almost, like soap powder or fabric softener, who does his washing for him I wonder? “So, will you come over and have a drink with me? It’s just a drink Georgia, nothing else, we’ve drunk at the same bar lots of times, this time we’ll just be together.”
“Why do you want me to have a drink with you? Why do you always buy me champagne, do you do that for all your female customers?”
“Of course I don’t, I’d be fucking bankrupt if I bought every bird that walked through the door a bottle of Moet.”
“So why me?”
“Because I want to, you always look so sad and that first time, when I gave the bottle to your friend, the loud one, Ashley, who works here, when you were drinking it, you smiled at me, then you laughed and spilt your drink on your chin and for a split second, you looked happy and I just wanted to see that spark in your eye again.”
I don’t want him to know it was him that I was thinking about that night, that I smiled because I was thinking about how good looking I thought he was, and Jimmie read my mind and stated my exact thoughts out loud, I don’t want to hear this, I don’t want him to be nice, I don’t want him to care, I want him to be a complete arsehole but he’s not, not at all.
“Why do you care whether I’m happy or sad, what difference does it make to you?”
“Because I own the bar and I like my patrons to be happy, now are you gonna come for a fucking drink with me or not?” He sounds harsh but the look on his face is anything but, he raises his eyebrows and leans away from the till point where I’m wrapping his purchases.
“Come on, you know you wanna.” I do, I really do, dare I?
“One drink Georgia, one drink and lots of talk.” I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Or no talking, one drink and no talking, if that’s what you’d prefer.” He’s so nice and so fucking sexy; I swore I wouldn’t get involved with someone that stirred those old but familiar sensations inside me. I had enjoyed a few snogs lately with completely random blokes, I’d even let one of them touch my tits as we kissed waiting for my taxi to arrive, Rick or Nick I think his name was, but I felt nothing, it stirred nothing but just standing here, in a shop, with a counter between us, was doing things to my insides and I really wasn’t sure what to do about it, but for some reason, my big fat gob went into action before it engaged my brain.
“One drink, I have my car out the back, but I’ll need to drive it around, I’m not walking back here later on my own.”
He has the biggest smile on his face; it makes him look so much younger… Aaaaand off goes my mouth again. “How old are you?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Where are your keys Georgia, I’ll pull your car around the front while you lock up.”
I fold my arms across my chest as I look him up and down, knowing full well I’m not going to get an answer. Shaking my head, I bend down under the counter and get my keys out of my bag and throw them to him, wait till he sees what he’ll be driving, I nod towards the back of the shop. “Through there, turn left onto the back ally, it’s one way.”
I follow him to the back doors. Hilda, my burnt orange and black Triumph Herald is parked right outside, I watch him as he swings the keys around his fingers, stops dead in his tracks and shakes his head. This is obviously a habit of his, I expect him to turn around and say something to me, but he keeps walking towards my car. I lock the back door behind him, set the alarms and head out the front of the shop, where he’s already waiting at the curb, looking like a giant as he leans against my little car with his long legs crossed in front of him, his hands once again in his pockets. As I walk toward him, it suddenly occurs to me that I don’t even know his name, well he hasn’t offered and I’m not going to make him think I’m interested by asking. He silently opens the passenger door, lets me in, and then closes it behind me. My car now smells of a mixture of me and of him and I don’t like it, it unnerves me for some reason.