Relieved, she pushed away thoughts of the work she had to do. ‘Let’s do that. And you can tell me about the women hanging round your place.’
For a second his shoulders slumped. ‘Nothing to tell on that score.’ But then a slow smile spread across his face. ‘Though like your barman, I’ve had my moments, over the years.’
It took Luke ten minutes to realise there was something missing with his usual workout routine.
A pair of big blue eyes watching him.
Did it make him vain that he preferred it when he knew Mia was watching? Probably. What he couldn’t work out was why. Sure, he admired her self-assurance, enjoyed the way she could give as good as she got in a conversation, liked, okay really liked the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed, the blue of her eyes, the freckles. And yes, even the green hair. All of it said she was her own person.
That said, he thought about her way too much than was comfortable.
Beside him on the window ledge, his phone pinged.
Hey, I’m in Manchester next week. Fancy catching up? Vicky xx
Automatically he reached to reply:
Sure, Wednesday works.
But his thumb hovered over the send button. Did he want to see Vicky? She was fun, a sales rep he enjoyed hooking up with when she was in town.
So why wasn’t he feeling it this time? Why was he hesitating?
Hastily he deleted his words and messaged instead:
Bar worker to bar owner = big change, little time off. Will have to give it a miss this time. L
He dumped the phone back on the ledge and snatched at the dumb-bell. At this rate he was going to turn into a bloody monk.
While he worked the dumb-bell, he glared at the sign he’d put up this morning for Mia. It was a picture he’d printed off the internet of scattered coffee beans in the shape of an owl, with two mugs of coffee for the eyes. Beneath it he’d scrawled:
Morning.
He’d hoped it would nudge her into putting up a message back. Either the owl wasn’t cute enough, or he wasn’t.
Frustrated with himself, he focused back on his weights. He was trying way too hard on Mia, and not hard enough on the stuff that was important. Like his business.
The week dragged.
On Thursday Sandy caught him looking at his phone and gave him a knowing smirk.
‘Let me guess, Tanya?’
He shoved the phone away. ‘No.’ The message had been from Vicky, double checking he didn’t want to meet up as she was leaving on Friday.
‘Tanya been given the boot, has she?’
‘You tell me, you seem to think you know my love life as well as I do.’
Sandy’s eyebrows flew up. ‘Oooh, a bit tetchy today are we?’
Luke forced himself to take a breath. Sandy was right. They’d had this banter over the women in his life for years, so why was he making such a big deal of it now? ‘Not tetchy at all. Just focusing all my energy on the bar for now.’
That shut her up. ‘Really?’
He nodded, aware he was telling the truth. Owning a bar was very different to working in one and he was coming to realise he had less time now for distractions like Vicky, or Tanya. Or Mia.
He’d already ruined one career opportunity by losing focus, being irresponsible. He couldn’t afford to ruin another. His finances and his self-esteem needed him to make a success of the bar.
Still, when he got home, he couldn’t resist grabbing a sheet of printer paper, writing on it and sticking it in his window.
GNITE
And when he spoke to his brother the following evening after work – Phil was a night owl, like him, so always up for a midnight chat – it seemed he couldn’t stop talking about Mia.
‘You’ve done what?’
‘Put a couple of signs up. Our flats are directly opposite each other, so from the room she works in, she can look into my spare room. I just … well, said Hi.’ Now he was saying it out loud, it sounded stupid. ‘She’s not messaged me back.’
‘I’m not surprised. Leaving a message in your window, God Luke, it’s … hell, it’s frigging weird, even for you. She probably thinks you’re some sort of stalker.’
Shit. He flushed hot and cold. He hadn’t considered she might be upset by the signs. ‘Seriously? You think it’s creepy?’ He jumped up from the couch and strode down the hall to the spare room. There he stared at the potentially offensive signs. ‘I only said Hi, or Morning. Tonight I wrote Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight like you’re watching her go to bed?’
‘No, damn it, of course not. I can’t see into her bedroom.’ His stomach lurched. Christ, did she really think that he was some sort of pervy peeping Tom? ‘I can only see when she’s right against the window, like when she’s sitting at her desk. That’s the only time I’ve seen her in her flat,’ he added, to reassure himself as much as Phil. Hadn’t he caught her staring at him? Then again, maybe she’d been doing it in a What the hell are you doing looking at me? sort of way.
‘Hey, I believe you.’ Phil, the bastard, sounded amused. ‘Maybe she’s ignoring you because she doesn’t like you, not that she finds you creepy.’
‘Yeah right, not helping.’ Feeling shaky, he knelt down and tore off the sign. That was it, no more acting like a sap.
‘What is it about this Mia that’s got you making such a dork of yourself?’
Luke slumped to the floor, scrunching up the sheet of paper. ‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s not her, it’s me. Could be an early mid-life crisis, stress over the bar.’ You felt a connection, one you’ve not felt for a long time. ‘Anyway, whatever it was, I’m over it. No more signs, no more distractions. The Bar Beneath has all my attention from now on.’
‘Glad to hear that, because I’ve been going through the books.’
Phil, older by three years, was the responsible, sensible one. The son who got married, became an accountant, produced two grandchildren their parents doted on. Luke knew, by the way his brother hesitated, that what he was about to say was going to be bad news. ‘And?’ he prompted. ‘Whatever you’ve got to say can’t be worse than Mia thinking I’m creepy.’
‘That depends. How wedded are you to keeping your flat? To retaining your staff?’
‘What?’
‘It seems some of the money we thought was in the business, isn’t. The last guy who did the books looks to have been skimming money off the place and now, well, there’s a bloody big hole in the accounts.’
Luke’s stomach lurched. ‘Hit me with it.’
‘Either you remortgage your place, lay someone off, or somehow manage to persuade a lot more customers through your doors, especially during the week.’
‘Fuck.’ Nausea rose inside him and Luke hung his head, his whole body starting to shake. ‘Do you think Bill knew?’
‘No way. I suspect he didn’t take notice of the books, trusted the accountant to do everything.’ Phil hesitated. ‘Might have been an idea to have got me to look through all this before you bought the place.’