Chapter One

1737 Words
Ava checked the time on her watch. She had another half an hour until her shift ended and a twenty-minute bus ride before she could get home. Not that she had anything important waiting for her at the dingy little flat she had called home for the last three years but it was better than being in the Greasy Spoon. Normally, her shifts were quiet but today they had been rushed off their feet. It had been seriously hectic for a Sunday and as usual, Bob refused to call in extra staff which meant Janet and herself were running around like blue arsed flies. She sighed at the tinkling bell above the café door which announced another customer. “Ah, there’s my gorgeous brunette. You know, there’s not a more beautiful sight to be seen in all of Manchester. I’m surprised people don’t come from miles around to feast their eyes on your beauty, Ava.” “Jeff, what have I told you about your compliments? You’ll have my head so big it won’t fit through the door if you carry on” she replied with a cheeky wink to the elderly man. “Your usual, handsome?” “Aye. If you don’t mind wearing out your pins a little more, flower.” “Not at all. Your smile is worth every blister. Strong black coffee coming at you in a sec.” Jeff beamed as Ava turned towards the counter to prepare the coffee. “Excuse me. Ava, is it? Can I trouble you for a few minutes of your precious time?” Ava took in the tailored suit, before noticing the face that belonged to the hand currently resting lightly on her elbow. The suit didn’t fit in with the builder welcoming, theme of the café and his face was one she hadn’t seen before. She was sure she would have remembered his piercing blue eyes and jet black curls tied at the nape of his neck. He was quite handsome, for an older man. “Sure, erm, Janet, would you mind fixing Jeff's coffee for me? Make it strong, just like he is, please. I’d hate to end my shift without that gorgeous smile of his brightening my day at least twice,” she called, flashing a smile at Jeff. “What can I do for you?” She asked, slipping into a seat opposite the handsome suit. “I hope you won’t find me too forward but I couldn’t help overhearing how you spoke to some of your male customers and the old man, Jeff, was it? You’re quite flirtatious but it's plainly obvious that it’s not to be taken as an invitation. I think you would fit in perfectly,” he told her, flashing a dazzling smile that made his eyes sparkle. “Well, that’s definitely the strangest compliment I’ve ever had. Just where do you think I would fit in, exactly?” “Oh, sorry. I manage a bar, not too far from here. It’s over at Deansgate Locks. A place called The Bike Shed.” Ava couldn’t help but laugh at the name. “Who the hell calls a bar The Bike Shed?” “It’s fitting. Trust me” the suit smirked. “You should drop in for an interview. I can guarantee, if you banter half as good as I think you do, you can make more in a night's tips, than you’d make here in a week. And that’s not including the hourly pay rate. What do you say?” He slid a business card across the table and Ava frowned as he made to stand. “Hang on a second there, fast one. You haven’t even told me what the work entails.” “Pretty much the same as here” the suit replied, without taking his seat again. “Less food, more alcohol and of course, a different uniform, but it’s still waiting on tables. So, about this interview?” “Deansgate Locks? Sure. I’m over that way tomorrow. I’ll pop in” Ava said, as she quickly scanned the card for a name. “What time would be best, Mr Gulliver?” “I’ll be there from six and the bar opens at eight. And Ava, please, call me Gully.” . . . . . “Yes, Late lunch tomorrow. I haven’t forgotten Sophie. I need to get these books back to the library before it closes though so I’ll be leaving you a little earlier than usual. Unless you want to come with me?” Ava tried and failed to suppress the laugh at Sophie’s outburst of “Don’t be bloody ridiculous woman. Me? In a library? Never. Not until they have bars anyway, or sexy librarians.” “You’re so damn predictable Sophie. I honestly don’t understand why you and books don’t get along.” “I wouldn’t say we don’t get along. The raunchy ones aren’t that bad. I’d rather act them out in reality though. All that excitement should be real, not in my head. Bookworms like you, spend most of their time living in their head anyway, but life is for actually living, not imagining. That’s all I’m saying.” “Oh, bookworm is it?” She laughed. “It’s a good job I love you, Sophie. Any other person might have been offended.” “That’s true and if I was any other person, I might actually care if someone got offended. Anyway, it’s the truth. You’re a bookworm and a geek but I love you anyway,” Sophie laughed. “I have to go. My dad is calling in a few minutes. He’s back in a few days, apparently. Not that he will stick around for long but it will be nice to catch up with him.” “No worries. I’ll see you tomorrow and you can fill me in on your plans for when your dad gets back. Love ya.” Shit. I forgot to ask her about that bloody club she thought, picking up her mobile again. Forget it. I’ll search it. She’s probably on the phone with her dad now, anyway. Ava and Sophie had been best friends since starting their degree in leisure and tourism, but she had never met Sophie’s dad. She knew that he was loaded, owned a few bars and clubs across the UK and also America and he worked away but that was about it. She didn’t even know his name. Sophie had always been quite secretive about her home life, not that Ava minded. It saved her from having to open up about her own. She hated talking about her parents. They had divorced when she was young and she hadn’t had much contact with her father. He was an alcoholic and a violent one at that. She remembered her mum being black and blue with bruises and the two of them sneaking out of the house while her father was in the bath. That was the last time she had seen her childhood home. Her father eventually stopped going to the contact sessions and the solicitors failed to get replies to their letters. Her mum eventually gave up and Ava never attempted to find him. It all seemed so long ago but she still couldn’t bring herself to open up about it completely. She felt betrayed, in a way. The first man in her life had chosen to be a violent bully instead of a father and it had left a lasting impression of what men were like. It was probably the reason she spent so much time reading books. They provided an escape from her sad and boring life. Books were filled with handsome men that swept women off their feet and treated them like princesses. They wined and dined, bought gifts and flowers, left little love notes and we’re insanely romantic. As far as Ava was concerned, she would rather have the fantasy over the reality that she had known. Sophie was the opposite. The cheese to Ava’s chalk. Sophie was a party animal, living life in the fast lane at the expense of her father and from what Ava knew, he didn’t mind at all. While Ava struggled to keep her bills paid and worried about finding a decent job, Sophie struggled to decide which designer bag to buy. They definitely had a friendship that shouldn’t work, but somehow it did. Ava loved Sophie like a sister and knew she would be lost without her. “A bloody strip club! He wants me to interview for a f*****g strip club? Is the guy for real?” Ava couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t exactly strip club quality and didn’t have the confidence for that line of work. That was Sophie’s kind of thing, not hers. Ava wasn’t a prude. Far from it. She had read enough books to know what happens in strip clubs, but reading about it and doing, were completely different things In Ava's world, taking your clothes off in front of anyone at all, was terrifying, let alone taking your clothes off in public and twirling around a pole in gigantic heels. It was almost as terrifying as the thought of having s*x. He hasn’t asked you to get naked. He asked you to interview for a waitressing job that pays better than that grease-filled café. Despite knowing her inner voice had a point, she just couldn’t imagine being able to work in a place where she had to look at scantily clad women. “Well, that’s that then. I won’t be going to the bloody Bike Shed after all”.
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