Cocktails in Chelsea. Nikki Moore
them. Someone who wasn’t worthy. Jesus, he was getting bitter. What was wrong with him?
He marched down a corridor and into one of the storerooms, grabbing the chilled champagne from the fridge and slumping back against its door. Blowing out a breath, he rubbed his eyes with shaking fingers. He was so bloody knackered from working all these insane hours. Sometimes he could hardly think or see straight. But it’d be worth it, to show everyone he could do it on his own, that he didn’t need to rely on his cousin Matt to get ahead. Matt was a great guy and a famous music producer, but there was Nathan needed his cousin’s money or connections to open doors.
His thoughts circled back to the blonde he was holding the champagne bottle for. She looked pretty much like the other girls in here, all perfect hair, nails, face and expensive outfit, but there was something a bit different. Her body was slim but athletic, her stomach toned enough that abs were visible through the skin-tight dress, but she wasn’t as thin and angular as some of the other women. Then there was the vulnerability in her massive green eyes and a slight softness around her mouth. Her full, sexy mouth.
His body reacted to that thought.
‘No. No way. You don’t want her.’ She was the last sort he’d go for. He liked the nice, sincere, girl-next-door type. The kind he’d want to take home to his grandparents. Not that he was looking to do that at the moment. His business plans meant too much for him to get sidetracked by a relationship.
Or by an uppity but gorgeous girl on a night out with her friends.
No.
Pushing away from the fridge, he slammed out of the storeroom. Just do your job Nathan.
Where the heck is he? Sofia wondered. Mr Hot but Grumpy had been gone for ages. Was he treading the grapes to make the Moet himself?
‘Madam.’ He swept in behind the bar, bending over to get an ice bucket and giving her a delicious view at the same time. Straightening up, he planted the frosted champagne bottle in the bucket and set it down in front of her with two slim flutes. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’
The fact he barely glanced at her was irritating. Especially when her eyeballs had nearly fallen out of her head at what an awesome backside he had in his tight trousers. ‘Yes,’ she retorted, ‘I had started to wonder if you’d flown to France to get it from the vineyard yourself.’
Raising an eyebrow, he opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again, staring at her silently with wide, brown eyes.
It made her realise how bitchy she’d sounded. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured, ‘I was-,’ pausing, she searched for an excuse, but there wasn’t one she wanted to share with him. So, ‘I’m sorry.… ?’ she simply said, making eye contact so he could see her sincerity and understand what she was asking.
‘Nathan.’ He supplied, surprise registering on his face before he stepped away. ‘No problem. Right, let’s get you that drink.’
‘Sounds good. I do love cocktails. Don’t you think you owe me something in return though?’ she prompted, mimicking Tori’s pronunciation. It wasn’t hard, a game they’d played as children. One memorable, humid afternoon the sisters had encouraged her to walk around the attic playroom of their holiday home with a book on her head, reciting phrases from their elocution lessons for endless hours. Her neck had ached for days.
‘Owe you something?’ Nathan squinted, expression puzzled as he filled a large, curved cocktail glass with ice chips.
‘That comment you made earlier about my dress? That was you, wasn’t it?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ He shrugged, broad shoulders moving under the snug white shirt. ‘Sorry.’
‘Try not to sound too sincere.’ She crossed her arms.
Putting the glass down on the bar with a clink, he stopped and stared at her. Nodding, ‘Of course Milady,’ he said mockingly. ‘I thought trying to protect your dignity might be appreciated, but apologies for any insult caused.’ His eyes dropped to her low neckline. ‘Besides, I can see now that I’ve got a front view that your dignity isn’t really a priority.’
Her mouth dropped open and she looked down, realising her folded arms were pushing her boobs up so they were almost spilling over the edges of the yellow material. Dropping her arms, she stared at the bar top, cheeks burning and unsure what to say. Why was it that when it came to work, or travelling, or anything other than her love life, she was confident and bold, but when faced with a guy she found attractive, she fell to pieces? It didn’t help that she didn’t feel quite herself tonight, in the alien outfit and surroundings.
‘Hey,’ a long-fingered hand slid around her wrist and squeezed it gently before letting go. ‘Sorry. That was harsh. Are you okay?’
Perfect. Now he felt sorry for her. Suck it up Sofia, you’re better than this.
How would Christie handle the situation? Sofia might not like the girl much, but she was ultra-cool when it came to the dealing with the opposite sex. It was worth a go. Tilting her chin up, she smiled at him breezily, ignoring the tingle where he’d touched her skin. ‘Of course I am.’ She arched an eyebrow and flipped her trailing hair over one shoulder. ‘Now, is that cocktail going to make an appearance this year, or not?’
Nathan nodded, sliding the ice-filled glass out of the way. ‘Coming right up.’ He took a metal cocktail shaker off a shelf and scooped some ice cubes into it as a shorter barman with slicked back hair and model-material chiselled features appeared. ‘Hey, Quinn,’ Nathan jokily threw an ice-cube at him, ‘you’ve been gone ages. What’s going on?’
‘You know me, mate. They’ve been eating me alive.’ Quinn grinned, selecting a tall pint glass from the side and filling it from one of the curved silver beer taps. He glanced at Sofia and then did a double take. ’Hi, there.’
She smiled. ’Hello, back.’ He wasn’t her type, was far too smooth, so there was no danger of him making her tongue-tied. It was also nice to be appreciated rather than mocked. She widened her smile, noticing Nathan scowl from the corner of her eye.
‘Quinn, can you pass me the orange juice?’ Nathan growled.
‘Sure, here.’ Without taking his eyes off Sofia he handed over a plastic beaker of juice from beneath the bar.
‘Thanks,’ Nathan replied, rolling his eyes at his colleague’s obviousness as he poured the OJ into the cocktail shaker. ‘Do you want to add a bit of a twist and have pineapple juice in it too?’ he asked Sofia, adding a double measure of vodka to the shaker along with some cranberry juice, before pouring some Peach Schnapps in freehand, not bothering to measure it.
‘Sure,’ she agreed. ‘I can be adventurous.’
‘Really?’ he drawled, sloshing in the pineapple juice from a jug.
‘Yes!’ She propped her chin on one hand to watch him work. ‘You don’t believe me?’ She scrunched her feet up inside the high heels, toes starting to hurt from standing for so long.
‘I guess I’m just surprised,’ he pulled a mock shocked face. ‘Girls like you usually like it straight up.’
‘Girls like me?’
But he didn’t answer, instead he started vigorously shaking the container full of mixture up and down, arm moving so fast it was just a blur.
She forgot what they’d been talking about as she gazed at him. His movements were easy and super-confident and her heart pounded, hands going clammy, mesmerised by the way he flipped the shaker over his shoulder and caught it underarm before spinning it in a circle on his fingertips, as if by magic. Tom Cruise, you’ve got competition. It was a shame Nathan seemed to have taken a dislike to her. He really was bloody sexy.
Slamming the container down, he grabbed the glass he’d put aside and threw the ice chips into the sink. ‘Chills it,’ he explained when she frowned.
She