I suck my straw, taking in several mouthfuls of Mai-Tai before placing my drink back down on the table in front of me. I’m out on the terrace at Thin Aire – the only one out here tonight. I suppose because it’s Sunday, it’s not that busy tonight.
When I ran through the plan with Millsy earlier, I decided that it would probably be best if I kept out of Nick’s way for a while, because I can’t face an argument and I really don’t know how to explain myself.
So here I am, all on my own, drinking cocktails and admiring the night sky. I love the view from up here, surrounded by tall buildings, pretty lights, the river – it’s just stunning. I could Instagram my hand off up here.
“The Power of Love” by Frankie Goes to Hollywood starts playing through the speakers. I sigh, because it’s one of my favourite songs.
I feel someone place a fur throw around my shoulders.
‘Thanks,’ I reply as I turn around. ‘It’s freez…’
My voice trails off. It’s the fit Tom Hardy-looking manager.
‘Freezing? Yes it is,’ he says with a smile. ‘I figured you’d need this. No Deano tonight?’
‘We broke up,’ I tell him. That’s all he needs to know.
‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ he replies. ‘I’m Marco, by the way.’
Oh, he would have a sexy name, wouldn’t he?
‘I’m Ruby,’ I shake his hand. ‘Nice to officially meet you.’
It’s taking all my energy not to freak out – in fact, it’s a miracle I’m forming sentences right now.
Marco takes a seat next to me.
‘Fancy some company for a bit?’ he asks.
I try not to show how surprised I am to hear him suggest that. Or how ecstatic I am. I just need to be cool.
‘OK.’
But not so cool I’m as cold as this rooftop.
‘So, have you had a good day?’ he asks me.
‘I got fired, actually,’ I tell him. ‘For assaulting a customer.’
Marco’s eyes widen, but he laughs.
‘OK, I need to hear this story,’ he insists.
I tell him all about my break-up with Deano, even though they’re sort of friends. Well, why not. If my friends were telling girls they were too fat I’d want to know so I could be ashamed of them too – obviously I’m not counting that time at Leeds Fest when the girl Millsy was hooking up with wanted to sit on his shoulders. Even for a strong dude like Millsy, there’s just no way. And he did tell her tactfully. Sort of. He did also tell her that she had a face like a “punched lasagne”, however she did spend most of the weekend covered in ketchup because she refused to eat anything that wasn’t a hotdog. No wonder Millsy liked her.
‘That’s rough,’ he tells me. ‘Well, I think you’re perfect as you are, so don’t give it a second thought.’
‘That’s because I spend so much money here, I probably singlehandedly pay your mortgage,’ I joke. ‘And you’re welcome.’
Marco laughs.
‘You’re pretty funny, you know,’ he tells me, gazing into my eyes.
‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ I reply.
My God, his eyes are gorgeous. So dark, and deep. I feel like I could get lost in them.
‘You seem like a pretty cool bird,’ he tells me. ‘You’ve never been that friendly with me before, I thought maybe you were a bit of a bitch.’
I choke on my drink a little, making super unsexy spluttering noises.
‘God no,’ I insist. ‘I’m just…shy until I get to know people.’
Not technically true. I’m not shy at all. I’m just an absolute loser around people I have epic crushes on.
‘I like that,’ he tells me. ‘Girls can be too forward these days.’
‘Yeah, I guess,’ I reply.
‘OK, I want to ask you out on a date, but I have to confess something first.’
‘Go on,’ I say cautiously.
‘I’m only telling you this because you do seem like a really cool bird, and I wouldn’t feel right hanging out with you without coming clean.’
I stare at him expectantly.
‘Your mate came in earlier. Muscular dude, long-ish hair –’
‘Yeah, Millsy,’ I interrupt. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, he told me you were having a hard time dealing with some stuff, and he asked me to chat you up. He said something about showing you that there were other fish in the sea. He gave me £40, so I figured I could do it, no problem. But you seem cool, I don’t know why he was worried.’
I take a few minutes to process this. It all makes sense now, the warm blanket that is lovingly placed around my always cold arms, by the man I have a crush on, on the terrace of my favourite bar, as one of my favourite romantic songs plays – Millsy is trying to play me.
‘He should be worried,’ I tell him. ‘Because he’s going to regret setting this up.’
‘I think he was just trying to match-make,’ Marco says in Millsy’s defence. ‘And it kind of worked.’
I think about it for a second. Before I had that dream about Nick, all I’ve ever fantasised about was the hot manager from Thin Aire ravaging me. Now he’s here, talking to me, telling me he thinks I’m cool…and all I can think about is Nick. It’s Nick that I want more than anyone.
‘I’m sorry,’ I start. ‘I need to get home. This is just a lot to take in.’
‘No worries,’ he assures me. ‘I get it, this must be weird. I didn’t expect this either. But you know where I am, right?’
‘I do, thank you,’ I tell him, dashing off for the lift.
If a Tom Hardy look-alike can’t win me over then, I’m sorry, no one can. I just hope that Millsy has stuck to the rest of the plan, because it seems like he’s meddling, like he thinks he knows what is best for me – well he doesn’t. So long as he’s stuck to the plan, everything will be fine.