Whiskey and Wine

Chapter Six: Dinner and Drinks

Legs bouncing, I cast the waiting room a disdainful glance, slouching back into the soft armchairs. I'm sure the waiting room alone is worth more money than my entire home and pub, only it doesn't change my resolve. I don't fit in here but I won't let that intimidate me.

Across from me, my brother sits beside a man who's clearly arrived for an interview. He peers down his nose at my brother who idly oohs and ahhs at the contents of a fashion magazine.

This is definitely not our scene.

I throw my Grampa another weary glance, trying to figure him out.

I can't catch his eye. His head is turned up to the ceiling.

We must've sat here for five minutes before a man in a suit comes over to us, a clipboard clutched in one hand and an iPad in the other.

It feels like I'm sitting in the waiting room to my own death sentencing.

The waiting is the worst part.

"I'm looking for a John Wallis, a Joshua Anderson and an Allison Anderson."

Josh rises and clears his throat. "That's us."

The suited guy smiles tightly. "If you'd like to follow me this way, Mr Ledger will see you now."

It takes every ounce of strength I have in me to stop myself from mimicking him.

It's not his fault that his Boss sucked. Hate the devil, not his employees.

Within a minute, he stops before a fancy looking door and gives us another one of those tight smiles.

"Mr Ledger's just through here. You don't need to knock. He's been waiting."

Ironic, since we've been waiting too. But who am I to complain?

"Thank you," My Grampa says.

The man only manages a hum.

I'm thankful my Grampa isn't the hesitating type. If I had to stand outside and wait a second longer, I might've very well lost my shit. So, when he turns the doorknob, I thank my lucky stars.

The first thing my eyes land on is the floor to ceiling wall of windows that look out over the streets of London. The view from up here is dizzying, but with more pressing matters at hand, I don't give myself a lot of time to take it in.

It must pay to be filthy rich.

My heart stops the second my eyes land on the businessman. On Mr Ledger.

I know those eyes in an instant. When a man's balls deep inside of you, it's hard to forget the colour of his eyes. I know that electric blue. I know the curve of his smile, the feel of his dark hair. I knew the taste of his goddamned mouth. Hell, I know what his cock feels like between my God forsaken legs.

What I don't know is what he's doing sat behind that desk.

I don't have a name for that heavy weight in my chest either.

A second passes by of me standing in the doorway and staring. He hasn't even looked up at us yet. But something occurs to me in that instant.

This motherfucker played me.

So he does have a downside.

He used me.

It wasn't a weird kink or a wife or anything like that.

This is worse.

The little shit used me.

There'd been no chemical attraction like I'd thought. It'd all been an act. Desperate and lonely, I'd let him fool me. I let this man get between my legs and play me like a violin.