Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages (Silence #3)(16)



What could I say to that?

I laughed nervously as she took a step closer, now invading my personal space.

“If I were ten years younger, I’d eat you alive.”

I winced. Only ten years younger? That would still put her in the could-be-my-mother category.

“I believe that,” I replied, trying to keep my voice light. I really didn’t want to think about her ‘eating me alive’.

“Are you all done in here now?”

“We are in here. Right, ladies?” Jean said, giving me a wink.

I didn’t ask where she wanted to go, which was obviously what she was hinting at.

“Great, have a lovely day,” I said and sidestepped them all, walking over to the floor mats. They all looked like sweet, almost-old ladies, but they were vultures. One of them, Noreen even grabbed the electrician’s arse when he was working in the hallway. We were lucky no one had tried suing us because of the old cougar club, yet.

“Jasper, dear, how long is that lovely young lady here for?” Jean asked.

They still hadn’t left.

I hauled the pile of mats up and straightened my back, trying not to show anyone how heavy they were.

“She’s here for the summer, then back to uni at the end of September.”

“Oh, such a shame. I was hoping we could hold onto her. She looks fun to corrupt.”

“Now, now, Jean, leave the poor girl alone.”

She pointed at me. “You think I don’t know your reputation, mister? A few years ago you’d have had her crying over you.”

All right, I wasn’t that much of a bastard. I’d never lead anyone on.

“I’m a respectable married man now.”

She laughed from her diaphragm, cocking her head back.

“You’re married, Jasper, I’ll give you that one.”

“Hey, I’m respectable!”

“You’re up here flirting with us fogeys every week.”

My mouth dropped. Did she honestly believe it was me that flirted with them? That was, nor never would be the case.

I smiled, now conscious that a bit of friendly banter and cheeky smile was considered flirting. Was it?

She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t you worry, I won’t be telling George or that wife of yours.”

She laughed again and walked out, followed by the last of the stragglers. Abby was always ‘that wife of yours’. But then Abby didn’t really make time for idle chitchat with strangers, so they never warmed to her.



“Your usual?” I asked Abby as we walked into the bar.

She bit her lip as if I’d asked her what the square root of pie was. Actually, she probably knew; she'd listened in school and had gone to uni. Whereas I’d pissed about and had a laugh.

“Um. Yes please,” she finally replied.

See, that wasn’t so hard, was it.

I spotted Oakley, Cole, Holly and Brad on a table so nodded my head towards it.

“Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll bring it over.”

I watched her eyes drift over and settle on Holly, who was looking much better with less of that heavy eyeliner. Less is more.

“I’d prefer to stay with you.”

I shrugged. “Alright.”

“Double JD and coke, red wine and six shots of whatever’s closest, please,” I said to the bartender.

Abby’s eyes snapped to me.

“Six shots? Does Holly even drink?”

“Brad’s ordered a taxi for them all, so I assume she’s drinking tonight. If not, I’m sure someone will do hers.”

If Abby was going to be a dick around Holly all night, I was going to need extra shots. I wanted to have fun, not referee her bitchy comments. Abby was usually so sweet about everyone, but if she was jealous she could turn in a second. I didn’t like it, and I had no time for it. At least guys would give each other a black eye and move on.

I paid, and we walked over.

“You’re all doing one,” I said, putting the shots on the table. “Ben and Kerry coming?”

“No, they’re on a date,” Oakley replied and grabbed two shots, handing one to Cole. “We’re child free tonight and tomorrow morning, so let’s drink up.”

Who took over my reserved sister’s body?

“Let’s do it,” I said and clinked my glass against Oakley’s. I loved to see her relax, have fun and act her age. “If you don’t want it I’ll do your shot, Holly.”

She smiled. “Thanks. I’ll have one. You can do the rest for the evening.”

An hour later and I’d done it. Mixing shots with beer had got me well and truly wasted. Abby, who wasn’t that drunk at all, pretty much refused to acknowledge Holly’s existence now, which annoyed me. Since my lengthy conversation with Holly, Abby had turned arctic as if we’d been having sex the whole time and not just talking. Holly was cool, and as our friend’s sister she should at least be civil.

Holly sat awkwardly, talking and laughing with Oakley. She’d noticed the tension, and she didn’t seem like the type of person to come out and ask Abby what the deal was.

I was so when Abby went to the bar I followed. “What’s your problem?” I hissed in her ear.

“My problem?” she asked, turning her nose up like I was something she’d stepped in. “What’s with the ‘I’ll have your shot, Holly’ crap?”

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