Truth Or Date Page 10

  Oh, what a creep. She must know Millsy well, she clearly knows how to get around him. If I want him to do me a favour, I comment on how his biceps have grown. If I want to piss him off, I ask him if he’s getting enough protein.

  Millsy flexes, exhibiting a level of charm, narcissism and muscle mass you could only get from Gaston in Beauty and the Beast. I shake my head.

  ‘Rubes, this is Rita. She used to be the manager, before you started working here. Best manager we ever had,’ he says, safe in the knowledge Sally is off sick today.

  ‘Well, what would you say if I told you I was back?’ she asks. ‘But there will be no assaulting customers and no dipshit-this and chebs-that.’

  ‘No way! That’s awesome. Ruby is sound really, she’s just hungover.’

  Millsy sounds genuinely delighted. I, however, remain unconvinced. I liked working for Sally. She’d let us arrive late, leave early, drink as much coffee as our nervous systems could handle and she found our silly stories funny – even the ones with swear words. Rita is probably only in her mid-thirties, but she reminds me of the meerkat teacher from the Compare the Market adverts – from her cardigan to her Dame Edna-esque glasses. She looks like she should be shushing people in a library, not giving me shit for swearing. Someone needs to have a word with her about her fashion sense (or lack thereof) and if she doesn’t stop giving me dirty looks, it might just be me.

  ‘Way,’ she replies. ‘Sally has started early maternity leave, it was all too much for her. It doesn’t sound like she was getting much help.’

  Rita shoots me a look.

  ‘Hey, don’t look at me like that, he’s here too, you know,’ I protest, nodding towards Millsy who is trying to stealthily crunch what’s left of his biscuit.

  ‘Joe was always the model employee while I was working here,’ Rita informs me, glancing over at him fondly.

  Oh, so he shagged her then. I look my friend in the eye, giving him a look that tells him I’m onto him, and he gives me a subtle raise of his eyebrows that confirms as much.

  ‘Well,’ Rita starts, using her sleeve to wipe a fingerprint from the coffee machine. ‘I’ll head into the office, lots to do, I’m told.’

  ‘No worries,’ Millsy calls after her. ‘We’ve got everything sorted out here.’

  ‘No worries, miss,’ I repeat mockingly once she’s gone. ‘We’ve got everything sorted out here, miss.’

  Millsy shoots me an unimpressed look.

  ‘Fuck off, she’s a nice lady.’

  ‘A nice lady you’ve definitely slept with,’ I say confidently, because I know my friend. ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘Christmas party, right here, disabled toilets.’

  My eyes widen – not because Millsy having sex with anyone surprises me, it’s more the location that’s playing on my mind.

  ‘OK, what has changed about sex since I had it last that means people need to use the disabled toilets specifically? Is that a thing now?’

  Millsy wiggles his eyebrows.

  ‘I just didn’t think she’d be your type,’ I persist. She’s so stuck up and boring and Millsy is the most fun person you could hope to meet.

  ‘Female is my type.’

  ‘I’m female,’ I remind him.

  ‘No way, mate. You’re just a lad with tits.’

  I think for a moment.

  ‘I’m going to take that as a compliment.’

  It’s 3pm, and we’ve got a rush of customers suddenly, which means Millsy and I don’t really get to chat much.

  ‘Two small skinny caramel lattes and a flat white,’ I tell him as I pop a teacake in the toaster behind us. ‘Then we’re swapping.’

  Millsy and I take it in turns doing the different jobs behind the counter, so while one of us is making the drinks the other has to do everything else. Making the drinks is the fun bit, playing with the cool machine, messing around with latte art, chatting to the customers as they wait for their order. The other role involves taking the orders, preparing and cooking the food, taking the money and trying to juggle multiple people’s requests at once, so really, if you’re going to do either job, you want to be the barista and not the everything-else person.

  ‘You’ll have to do them, I’ve got to get to my audition,’ Millsy tells me, whipping off his apron and throwing it to me.

  ‘I can’t do all this on my own,’ I squeak. ‘Tables need clearing too.’

  ‘I’ll get Rita to help, no sweat.’

  Come to think of it, I’d probably rather run this place single-handedly.

  ‘OK, sure,’ I reply.

  In a matter of minutes Millsy is back with his leather jacket on, ready to head out to his audition.

  ‘Rita is on her way,’ he tells me. ‘Bump me luck.’

  In the midst of the chaos of this unofficial rush hour, I give my friend a first bump.

  ‘Joe said you needed my help,’ Rita says, tying an apron around her waist as she joins me behind the counter.

  She makes it sound like she’s doing me a favour.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, through gritted teeth. ‘Well, if you want to serve the next customer, I’ll crack on with this lady’s coffee order.’

  Rita holds her hand up in a ‘stop’ position, right in front of my face.

  ‘Ruby, Ruby, Ruby,’ she starts, shaking her head as she speaks. ‘I’m the manager here, not you. I tell you what to do.’

  ‘I wasn’t telling you what to do,’ I explain, very aware of the queue full of people spectating, all listening intently as I get ticked off. ‘I was just telling you what needs doing.’

  ‘I tell you what needs doing, OK? No one tells me what needs doing.’

  ‘Well, unless you’re psychic, someone is going to have to tell you what drinks this lady ordered at some point,’ I correct her.

  I fold my arms and stare at her as she thinks this one over.

  ‘OK, tell me, then get back to serving,’ she says reluctantly.

  ‘Well, it was my turn to make drinks, I’ve been doing this for the past hour and –’

  ‘Ruby, this is a business, not a playground. You’ll do as you’re told,’ Rita snaps.

  I glance at my customer who gives me a pitiful look. I might not be psychic either, but I can tell that this lady feels sorry for me. Still, I bite my tongue. This is only until Sally has her baby and then she’ll be back, right? I just need to keep my cool until then because there’s no way I’m letting a bitch like this mess up the sweet gig I’ve got going here.

  Chapter 13

  As I barge through my flat door, arse-first, it bangs against the cabinet that sits behind it, knocking over one of the framed pictures from on top of it.

  I hear the smash of glass as it lands on the floor.

  ‘Fuck,’ I shout. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’

  I dump my handbag on the floor, toss my keys in the direction of the key bowl (I miss, of course) and then lay my box of muffins down on the sofa.

  At work, we had a whole bunch of food left at the end of the day, with a use-by date of today. Millsy and I usually bag it all up hand it out to the homeless people dotted around the city, but Rita says it’s against company policy and that it all has to go in the bin. Still, I managed to smuggle four muffins out of there, but I didn’t see anyone to give them to on the way home, so you better believe I’m going to eat at least two of them tonight.

  It seems like such a waste, throwing all that good food in the bin, but if I’m learning anything about Rita, it’s that she's a stickler for the rules, and authority matters to her more than anything.

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Nick shouts as walks out of his bedroom. He’s looking good, in his perfectly ironed red shirt and black trousers. He’s got that fresh-out-of-the-shower smell, mixed with his aftershave, which has never smelled more delicious. ‘What have you done now?’

  ‘It’s this fucking stupid door,’ I start ranting. ‘I had to bang it to open it, and it smashed the fucking picture and I’m just having a really bad fuck
ing day because my new boss is a fucking bitch and –’

  I stop ranting as I realise that Nick is just staring at me blankly, probably terrified by my spectacular outburst.

  ‘OK, that’s a lot of “fuckings” so it must’ve been an actually bad day, not just your usual kind where they won’t let you leave early to get drunk or murdered by a man you met on the internet.’

  I glare at him.

  ‘Sorry, couldn’t resist,’ he says with a chuckle.

  As I soften my gaze a little, something strange happens. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d think I was…

  ‘Holy shit, are you crying?’ he asks. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you display an emotion before – other than rage.’

  I wipe my eyes quickly. I rarely cry. It usually takes a lot to make me cry. I have no idea what’s going on in my head right now.

  ‘Look, sit on the sofa. Accidents happen, you don’t need to cry. I’ll clean this up.’

  I sit down as instructed while Nick tidies up. He takes his little dustpan and brush and sweeps up the broken glass. I can’t help but snort with laughter at the sight of him with his girly little cleaning utensils.

  ‘Well, that’s better,’ he says, putting the broken glass in the bin.

  He wanders over to the sofa and stands for a second. His phone buzzes so he takes it from his pocket, punches a message to someone and then puts it away. I wipe my tears away with my sleeve, annoyed that there’s nothing I can use to wipe my embarrassment away.

  Nick looks like he’s about to leave when he does something unexpected. He sits down next to me. It sounds stupid, but I literally pinch myself, just to make sure I’m not dreaming, because we all know how this usually plays out in my head.

  ‘Is everything OK?’ he asks me.

  ‘I just feel really…unsettled at the moment. We’ve got a new manager at work who hates me, I’m sick of going on weird dates with even weirder people, Millsy is putting his acting first which means he isn’t around as much, my parents have gone on holiday for a month without telling me. I just feel like I have no idea what’s going on any more.’

  I lean back, resting my head back on the sofa, gazing up at the ceiling as I wonder why the hell I’m spilling my guts to Nick, of all people.

  ‘Ruby, everyone feels like that at some point in their life. We’ve all got shit to deal with, and for the most part we can handle it, but when we get too much shit at once it gets harder to cope with, and that’s when we have to be tough and just do what it takes to get through it, tackling things one at a time.’

  I sit up and look Nick in the eye.

  ‘Really?’ I ask. ‘Even you feel this way sometimes?’

  ‘Even me,’ he tells me with a warm smile. ‘I wish there was something I could write you a prescription for that would make you feel all better – actually, there are plenty of drugs I could give you that would make you feel better, but that wouldn’t be ethical – I suppose,’ he jokes.

  I laugh.

  ‘Well, if you have moments like this too, then I guess anyone can,’ I reason. ‘Because you are the one person I know who seems like they have it all together: a proper career, a girlfriend, a stable relationship with your family…’

  ‘I don’t have it all together,’ he admits. ‘Trust me, I’m a doctor.’

  ‘You’re a vagina doctor,’ I tease. ‘I bet you use that line to smooth-talk your way into girls’ pants. Is that how you won Heather over?’

  ‘It’s how I won her sister over,’ he laughs.

  His phone buzzes again.

  ‘Speaking of Heather, I’m late to meet her, so if you’re sure you’re OK…’

  ‘You sat talking to me when you were supposed to be meeting Heather?’ I ask, unable to hide my surprise.

  ‘I’ve never seen you cry,’ he says with a laugh, by way of justification. ‘I figured you needed someone.’

  ‘Well, thank you,’ I tell him sincerely.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he replies. ‘Just because we don’t get along very well, it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, does it? I mean, Joey is a real dick, and you care about him regardless. For some reason.’

  Nick gives my hand a little squeeze, laughing to himself as he heads for the door.

  ‘See you later, kid.’

  ‘Bye,’ I call after him.

  As Nick closes the door behind him, I smile to myself, lightly stroking my hand where he touched me. How have I had him so wrong all this time? Yes, he might be far more sensible than I am, but he’s sweet, and he must care about me to make himself late just to talk to me, because I know how much lateness drives him crazy.

  My phone rings snapping me from my thoughts. It’s Millsy so I answer straight away.

  ‘Hey, what’s up?’

  ‘So, the audition went terribly,’ he starts, sounding dejected.

  ‘Oh, fuck those fucking wankers,’ I rant. Clearly I still have a few fucks left over from my bad mood. Millsy doesn’t say anything. ‘Millsy? You still there?’

  ‘Erm, yeah. I was going to be cute and say, it went terribly for the other guys, because the director literally just offered me the part and I called you straight away to tell you so. On loudspeaker.’

  ‘Fuck,’ I say softly. Well, one more isn’t going to make a difference. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ he laughs. ‘I’m in the corridor now. You OK?’

  ‘Congratulations,’ I tell him. ‘I’m actually pretty good. I have some big news too.’

  ‘Ooh,’ my friend exclaims. ‘What? What?’

  ‘Well, I had a super shitty day at work – Rita is horrible, I don’t know how you had sex with her, even for the short amount of time I imagine you last.’

  ‘Ha ha,’ he replies sarcastically.

  ‘Anyway I came home and Nick was here, and he was so sweet to me. He basically told me that he cared about me, he was late to meet Heather because he wanted to cheer me up. And, he said something to me about how we’re still friends, even though we don’t always get along, which is pretty much exactly what he said to me in my dream.’

  ‘I’m going to be honest, you sound like a crazy person, but I’m interested to see where this is going,’ Millsy says cautiously. ‘Continue.’

  ‘I’m going to make him mine,’ I tell him, excitedly. ‘We’re supposed to be together, I just need to make it happen.’

  ‘Rubes, he kind of hates you. He hates both of us. He makes your life miserable and – vital fact – he has a girlfriend, and just because you have a couple of sex dreams and you watch him grab an old lady from behind, suddenly you’re going to try and steal him? You’re crazy.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I admit. ‘But I’ll kick myself if I don’t even try.’

  ‘Well, I’m happy to stick around to watch you fuck up your situation even more than it already is, it sounds amusing,’ he laughs. ‘All I ask in exchange is that you help me learn my lines, I don’t have much time at all.’

  ‘Dude, you don’t need my help. We did Macbeth at the end of year 11.’

  ‘Exactly, which makes you more than qualified to help me learn my lines. I can’t bullshit my way through this one. And stop saying the name of the play.’

  ‘OK, fine,’ I give in. ‘But if I need any help with Nick, will you help me?’

  ‘Oh, what are friends for, if not to help steal a boring guy from an even more boring girl so you can have awkward sex with him once and then struggle to look him in the eye ever again?’

  ‘Thanks, babe. You’re a star,’ I reply sarcastically. ‘See you at work tomorrow.

  ‘Sure thing, bunny boiler.’

  I hang up the phone before removing a double chocolate muffin from the box, peeling off the paper, eating the bottom bit first, because everyone knows the top bit is the best part, and think. I know my crush on Nick has come out of nowhere, but maybe this is why I’ve never been able to properly fancy anyone else, because I’ve always had feelings for him and I never realised. They say that dreams are a window to
our subconscious, which means that I’m having these dreams about Nick because deep down that’s how I feel. OK, so he’s with Heather, but she’s not a very nice person. She’s bossy, she’s selfish, she doesn’t let him eat meat, for crying out loud. I’ve never seen her be nice to him, or anyone for that matter. I actually feel so sorry for the kids she teaches. Yep, Nick can do better, and I think I’m the girl who can give him what he wants. Now all I need to do is work out how to get it.

  Chapter 14

  It’s 6:30am, and I’m up and dressed way earlier than I need to be to get to work on time today. I’m currently lying on my bed, waiting for Nick to get out of the shower. I heard him get up a while ago and head out for a run, so I dashed in the bathroom while he was gone to make myself look as attractive as is possible at this time of morning when you are me, before hurrying back to my room. I heard him get back and get in the shower, so now I’m just waiting until I hear the water shut off so I can go grab my breakfast, moments before he goes for his, so we can bump into each other.

  I hear the water shut off so I hop off my bed, grabbing my phone before making my way to the kitchen. I pop the kettle on and drop a couple of slices of bread into the toaster before hopping onto the worktop where I begin aimlessly scrolling through my Facebook feed, just to look busy and to make this seem natural.

  ‘Good morning,’ I say brightly as Nick wanders into the kitchen, running a hand through his damp hair.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ he says, jumping. ‘I didn’t expect you to be awake. Has someone died?’

  I laugh.

  ‘Oh, you’re so funny,’ I say flirtatiously, although I don’t think he was joking.

  ‘Don’t take the piss, Ruby. I’ve got a busy day ahead of me and I had a late night.’

  ‘Fun night with Heather?’ I ask, jealously suddenly hitting me like a ton of bricks.

  ‘Yeah, it was great, thanks. We went to this place near the station called Planet.’

  As my toast pops up I realise that it’s burnt, testament to how often I use the toaster. Still, I hop down and begin spreading Nutella on it – after scraping as much of the black off as possible because I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that burnt food gives you cancer.