Come Find Me

For the First Time in Forever

James

Jesus Christ on a bicycle, why the hell did she choose to come here on one of the coldest, iciest days of the year?! I ran out of the bar without a coat, now I'm trudging around Brighton pier in the darkness trying to find a needle in a hay-sack.
So many things are running through my head right now. Why would she just run off like this? As if I'm out of her league, it's most certainly the other way around. I can't believe she came all the way here and didn't say anything to me. Jesus Christ, I hope the food was good and she liked it. I feel like such an arse for not coming to see her first and she felt like she had to come all the way here. The chill is blowing on my neck fiercely as I wrap my arms tightly around me. Just as I am about to admit defeat and turn back to the restaurant, I catch sight of her pacing up and down the parade of shops.

"Hey you!" I call out, running across the road and almost getting myself killed by a cyclist.

She looks like a deer caught in headlights, embarrassed and worried. She needn't be, she is so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined, she manages to give me a small smile that grows into a gorgeous beam as I approach her.

"I'm so sorry, James. I never meant to ambush you like this," she stutters, her teeth chattering together.

"Ambush? Who said anything about ambushing? You're just another regular customer, right?" I wink, taking hold of her icy cold hand.

"Right," she whispers, as her fingers grasp mine. "It's so nice to finally see you in real life!"

"Likewise. Now, please be truthful. How was the food. Good or bad? Wasn't over cooked was it?" Now it's my turn to be paranoid.

Her eyes glow as she responds, "No, it was perfect. What I tasted of it. I was so nervous, I thought I was going to heave."

"You shouldn't have been. This was a wonderful surprise," I smile, giving her hand a squeeze. "Should we invade one of these pubs and escape a Titanic-like hypothermia?"

"Good idea," she chirps, as I lead the way into The Skyline Inn.

For a weekend the place is pretty derelict, which is good for us as a business. I guess it's because most of the pubs around here have shitty food from equally shitty suppliers. I'm not a self-absorbed trumpet blower but our place is the most happening hot spot in Brighton at the moment.

We find an intimate spot right at the back near the fireplace, that has been filled with pine cones and holly, and a ginormous candy cane Christmas tree. It's disgustingly overdecorated, as though a Christmas garland has thrown up all over it. Our place is understated with a few festive decorations here and there, I refused to let Georgina loose with the company credit card this year. Last year she went all out with twinkling fairy lights, five Christmas trees and a blow-up Santa Claus. Needless to say it was me who ended up decorating the whole place on the last day of November.

"I am slightly nervous being here with you," Karen suddenly says, as she starts unzipping her jacket.

"Really, why is that? Am I even more devilishly good looking in real life?" I chuckle, slouching down in my seat. I consciously flip my phone face down to avoid any kind of distractions.

"Well, yes there is that. But being in another bar with you, aren't you overly critical when it comes to other peoples establishments?" She responds, as she clears her throat.

"Not overly, however, I do notice shitty service and food when I see it," I say, trying to not sound far up my own arse.

"Fair enough. So, what do you fancy then?" She smiles, as her eyes glaze over the drinks menu.