Читать книгу Black Diamond - Havana Adams - Страница 20
Оглавление“You got a light?”
Lola looked up and in the dim light of the narrow alleyway at the back of Gin, yet another hot new bar, she watched a tall, powerfully built man move towards her. Long dreadlocks were pulled away from his face in a ponytail and as he walked, the long rope of hair swung from side to side, halfway down his back, almost touching his elbow. There was a directness about his gaze that disconcerted Lola and made her feel defensive. She stared back at him, determined to hold her ground. Close up, she saw that he wore the distinctive pinstriped Issey Miyake waistcoat that was the uniform of all the wait staff in the bar. As he stopped in front of her, Lola took a deep drag on her cigarette and she gave him a brief nod. She reached for his cigarette and for a moment their fingers touched. He had clean fingernails. Lola placed his cigarette against the smoking end of her lit one and watched, mesmerised as the orange glow kissed the unlit cigarette to life. She handed it back to him and continued to watch him as she exhaled.
He was tall, really tall and built. Beneath the waistcoat he wore nothing, and Lola could see his bare chest and the beginnings of a light dusting of chest hair and well defined pecs. Down one arm, snaking out from beneath the waistcoat, were an impressive set of sleeves, zigzagging up and down his biceps all the way to his wrist.
“Nice ink,” Lola said nodding at his tattoos. The waiter smiled.
“She speaks,” he replied and Lola was unprepared for the smile that crept across her face, before she quickly resumed the pout that was fast becoming her default expression.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she drawled, wondering why she was still standing outside with the help.
Lola watched the waiter lean back against a dumpster and drag deeply on the cigarette. His lips were thick and Lola looked away quickly, surprised at the flare of lust that slammed into her. Lust was no part of her life, not really. Sure there were the random hook-ups and the orchestrated ones that made it into a few magazines and the blogs, but the wash of lust as she stared at this quiet waiter with the watchful eyes was unexpected and not entirely unwelcome.
“How’s the party?” The waiter spoke and Lola shrugged.
“It’s work,” she replied unthinkingly.
“For me too.” Lola winced. She was unused to dealing with real people with real jobs.
“So how does it ‘work’ for you?” the waiter asked, his brow furrowed, and Lola dragged on the last of the cigarette and then ground the butt beneath her boot.
“New bar, wants to get a buzz, so they pay some celebrities to come hang out and be seen here.”
“Nice.” The waiter half smiled again. “How much do they pay you to do that?” His bluntness surprised her.
“How much do they pay you?” Lola shot back.
“Six bucks an hour,” he replied without missing a beat and Lola felt her skin flush as she watched him angle his head, his dreads swinging over one shoulder as he stared intently at her. “You?” he prompted again.
“Fifteen thousand.” A low whistle emerged from his lips and the waiter turned to face her directly. Lola was struck once again by how tall he was. “Paris and Kim get double that,” she muttered, wondering why she felt it necessary to justify herself to this stranger.
“Nice work if you can get it.” Lola nodded and looked up at the clear, black sky. The tedium of the conversation and the air kissing and the bullshit inside the bar had gotten to her, but as the awkward silence lengthened, all Lola wanted was to get back inside away from this silent watchful stranger, who was provoking unexpected feelings.
“You work here all the time?” Lola winced inwardly. Why was she prolonging the conversation? She turned towards him, but he was glancing at his watch. Quickly, he stubbed out his cigarette.
“Here, the Italian place at The Grove, a few places,” he finished with a smile. “Break’s over.” A rueful smile flickered across his face. Lola smiled back, a feeling of relief mingling with something else. “Have a good night,” the waiter said and in a bang of double doors, he was gone.
