‘Welcome to Thin Aire,’ I tell my brother as we step out of the lift and into the dimly lit bar.
‘So this is where my sister spends all her time,’ he says as he looks around.
Of all the bars I frequent in Leeds – and believe me, there’s a few – Thin Aire is my favourite. My local. I have put in lots of time, charm and money to become a regular here and it’s finally paying off. I am on first name terms with most of the staff, they let me jump the queue at the bar and they’ll often throw freebies my way. But, like I said, this is my local, even though it’s by no means the bar closest to where I live. The thing I like most about Leeds is that there are several areas all populated with bars, and each area will have a different vibe and different clientele. With my penchant for expensive cocktails and handsome men in suits, the many rooftop bars overlooking the River Aire are where I like to be, but Thin Aire is my favourite by a mile. It’s situated at the top of an 80-metre-tall office block, and it’s almost entirely made of glass. The floor-to-ceiling, wrap-around glass windows provide a stunning view across Leeds from all angles, and the coolest part is that to get up here, you take the glass lift that runs up the side of the building. Something my brother did not know, that made him feel a little green around the gills when he first stepped into the lift five minutes ago.
‘I don’t spend that much time here,’ I reply.
‘Your Facebook check-ins beg to differ,’ he replies.
Right on cue, Ella, one of the hostesses walks past, spots me, and kisses both my cheeks.
‘Ruby, good to see you again,’ she tells me before dashing off, back to work.
‘Also, that,’ Woody laughs.
‘We’re their favourite customers,’ Millsy says. ‘Admit it.’
‘Maybe I am,’ I reply. ‘You not so much. It was only last week they had to talk that crying girl who locked herself in the toilets into coming out again so they could close up.’
Millsy laughs, grabbing a menu and handing it to Woody. ‘What can I say? The ladies love me.’
‘Man, I want your life,’ Woody says.
‘Ah, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be,’ I lie, with a sigh.
‘I was talking to Millsy,’ he clarifies.
After glancing at the menu, Woody offers it to both of us. We both stare at him blankly.
‘Of course you guys don’t need to see it,’ he laughs.
Jimmy, my favourite barman, makes his way across the bar to us.
‘Usual, guys?’ he asks.
‘Yes please,’ I reply, much to Woody’s amusement.
‘And for your date?’ he asks.
I watch my brother’s eyes widen with horror.
‘Wow, how many blokes does she bring in here if that was your first thought?’ he asks Jimmy. ‘I’m her brother.’
‘Can’t you see the family resemblance?’ I ask Jimmy.
‘Around the eyebrow,’ Millsy jokes.
I elbow him semi-playfully.
‘Jimmy, this is my brother, Woody. Woody, this is Jimmy, the assistant manager here.’
They shake hands. Jimmy fixes our drinks for us before freeing us up a table by the window, overlooking the Trinity Centre. We’re high above it, but the view of the glass atrium, covered with its colourful, twinkling lights, is stunning. The best thing is that the more you drink, the more kaleidoscopic and captivating it looks.
‘So, this is your life?’ Woody asks as he glances around the busy bar, packed full of beautiful people with their expensive drinks. ‘You just work in the café all day, dress up, come here and drink until you crawl home?’
‘You say that like it’s a bad thing,’ I laugh.
‘No, I’m jealous,’ he replies. ‘It beats going door to door selling double glazing all day before going home to your wife, who you annoy, and your child, who you only seem to see when he’s screaming or sleeping.’
‘Mate, I’m definitely going to buy so many condoms on my way home,’ Millsy jokes, an unimpressed look plastered across his face.
‘That’ll be a first,’ I tease.
‘So, what makes this bar different from all the other rooftop bars?’ Woody asks. Right on cue, the manager steps out of the lift.
‘Ask your sister,’ Millsy chuckles, noticing me staring at Tom. Tom is not the manager’s name, in fact, I have no idea what his name is, but the first time I laid eyes on him, I fell head over heels in lust. Tall, dark and handsome, with his sexy brown eyes and his slicked-back brown hair, Tom is built in a way that my mum would describe as ‘chunky’ – that sort of rugby player big build that’s neither fat nor overly muscular. I made the mistake of saying he looked like Tom Hardy to Millsy once so he started referring to him as Tom just to tease me – the name just stuck.
‘Does Ruby have a crush?’ Woody asks patronisingly.
I feel my cheeks flush. I like to think I’m a pretty cool customer, but Tom is the one person on this earth I have an uncontrollable, schoolgirl-style crush on. When I’m around him, all of my charm and wit goes out of the window.
‘She does,’ Millsy tells him on my behalf. ‘Luckily for her, she never has to speak to him because he doesn’t work behind the bar. I don’t think she could speak to him if she tried.’
‘Come on, I’m not that bad,’ I protest.
‘Erm, I beg to differ. Last week when he said goodbye to you, you babbled something that sounded a bit like “goodbye” mixed with “sweet dreams” and then you damn-near came in the lift.’
My brother chokes on his drink a little, a combination of shock and amusement, just as Tom walks past. Recognising us as regulars, he gives us a nod of acknowledgment before heading off into the kitchen.
I puff air out of my cheeks once he is past us and out of earshot.
‘He’s just so perfect,’ I explain to the two men, who are obviously immune to his charm. ‘Those big, strong arms! There’s a rumour that a guy once came in wearing a snapback cap and refused to leave, so Tom dangled him over the terrace.’
‘They take the dress code seriously,’ Millsy laughs.
‘Mate, he can dangle me over the terrace any time,’ I say, biting my lip for effect.
‘Mate, you’ve been single for too long,’ Millsy reminds me. ‘The only action you get is in your dreams.’
I shoot him a filthy look, which my brother notices.
‘Oh shit, who are you dreaming about?’ Woody asks.
‘Her flatmate, Dr Dick,’ Millsy tells him.
‘Nick? Really?’ my brother asks, shocked. He knows that we don’t exactly get on.
‘Really,’ I admit. ‘And it keeps happening.’
‘Which is weird, because he’s a waste of space,’ Millsy adds.
‘That’s not exactly fair, he saved a woman’s life on the train today.’ I start telling Woody the full story. ‘It was incredible, honestly. I’ve never seen anything like it. I can’t stop thinking about it.’ I think for a second before confessing: ‘I can’t stop thinking about him. What the fuck is wrong with me?’
It’s the first time I’ve been able to say it out loud, to admit it to anyone (myself included), and I’m just hoping the two most important men in my life will know what I need to do to stop this.
‘Do you have feelings for him?’ Woody asks.
‘I can’t,’ I squeak. ‘Can I?’
‘OK, hold that thought.’ Millsy thinks for a moment. ‘Right, the sex dreams, we’ve established, are because you’re not getting any. And today has made this worse. You only fancy him because you saw him save that old bird. It’s a thing, to be attracted to heroes. That’s why nurses give you a boner.’
My brother and I laugh at his reasoning.
‘I’m sure it’ll pass,’ I tell them.
As we drink and joke together, I’m having so much fun I don’t even notice a bloke walk over and stand beside us.
‘Ruby?’ he says, catching my attention.
I glance at him for a second and eventually realise who he is.
‘Greg?’ I start slowly, momentarily uncertain if I’m getting his name right or not because, I mean, I have previous with getting names muddled up. ‘Hello, how are you?’
Instinctively, I stand up and hug him, as though I would an old friend, except I don’t really know Greg that well at all, he’s just someone I’ve been chatting to on Matcher. Yes, another one, but that’s how these things work, you have to chat to a bunch of people at once. We’ve been messaging on and off for a month now, but for some reason we’ve never really spoken about meeting up. Still, he seems nice, so I’ve happily chatted to him whenever he has messaged me.
‘I’m good, thanks. Had a few drinks with some of the fellas from the office. I was just leaving when I spotted you.’
‘Oh, cool,’ I start. ‘I was just –’
‘Are you from Matcher too?’ Millsy interrupts. Greg nods awkwardly. ‘Us too – you’re welcome to make it a foursome?’
As I see the look of horror consume Greg’s face, I quickly set him straight.
‘That’s Millsy, my soon to be former best friend. And Woody, my brother.’
‘Nice to meet you both,’ Greg says awkwardly, before turning back to me. ‘Do you want to grab a quick drink before I go?’
‘Oh, erm, I’d love to,’ I start. I actually would kind of like to hang out with him, he seems pretty cool in person. ‘But I can’t ditch my friends.’
‘Sure you can,’ Millsy insists.
‘Well, there you go,’ Greg says with a smile. ‘I’ll wait for you over by the bar.’
‘OK, sure.’
Once Greg is out of earshot, I double-check with Millsy and Woody that they actually don’t mind.
‘What happened to bros before hoes?’ my brother asks.
‘Mate, seriously, if your sister doesn’t get some action soon her theme park is going to close for business for good, not just the winter. You know what I mean?’
‘I do,’ Woody replies solemnly. ‘Cheers for that wonderfully vivid explanation.’
‘I’m not going to sleep with some guy I just met, am I?’ I ask rhetorically. I don’t say that because I’m above it, more because sleeping with someone for the first time takes a lot of preparation. First of all, my waxing game has been a little lax recently. Well, I begrudge every single hair I remove for men who just aren’t worth it and, also, it’s winter and it acts as a sort of layer of insulation between my skin and my clothes – do you know how many weeks days hours it would take for me to grow that hair back? (hashtag: half-Italian problems). Also, I’m wearing my terrifying, boner-killing, stomach-holding-in tights that men neither can – nor ultimately want to – wrestle me out of. Nope, not tonight, love.
‘Well, you should. You’ve got the fear, you just need to get back in the saddle,’ he insists.
‘Don’t tell me, it’s like riding a horse,’ I say, rolling my eyes.
‘It is if you do it the way I like it,’ he says with a wink. ‘Now get over there. This is the only way to prove to yourself that you feel nothing for Nick – it’ll break the spell. Tell her, Woody.’
I glance at my brother, amused, ready for him to make a case to persuade his little sister to have sex with a man she’s technically just met.
‘Whatever ends this conversation the quickest,’ he replies.
‘One drink,’ I assure them. ‘I’ll be back.’
‘I’ve heard that one before,’ Millsy laughs.