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Bocelli's Cocktail Lounge - London, England - 1999 - 5:45 pm
"Charlotte you better hurry up with that restock, girl!", Alice shouts from across the room, she's cleaning the tables and shining up the marble counters.
"Oh bugger off Alice! I'm going as fast as possible, it's bad enough I already have Bocelli up my ass asking me to put the Cognac on high display tonight," I laugh as I imitate my boss, earning a chuckle from Alice. "We have a big spender on our hands," usually when they say we have a "big spender" they buy one bottle of some fancy wine and then they never leave a tip. It gets old after a while, but maybe tonight will be different. I mean, I doubt it will- but a little hope never hurt anybody!
As Alice and I continue to crack jokes, Mr. Bocelli walks in, a huge toothy smile plastered across his face. He was the type of boss that made you feel happy that you work where you do, he sure was fun to laugh about but he was a kind and very generous man. It's surprising to me because usually men of his success, especially in this business aren't the ideal people you'd want to surround yourself with. Bocelli was different though, a good man.
"Good Evening, girls," he said, looking impressed with the cleanliness and presentability we had managed to produce within a few short hours. Alice and I both smiled back, greeting him.
"I just wanted to let you know, the place looks incredible. Sembra assolutamente bellissimo!! I also want to inform you and the rest of the staff that the party begins at 6, and well..." he glanced at his watch.
"It's about 5:55, so we open the doors now? Be ready to earn some big tips tonight and just try to have fun! Let me know if any guests are giving you issues, I know we have some...older men here tonight," he nodded and walked off. Alice gave me a small smile before going to the door in preparation to meet the guests.
I had been the only bartender on duty tonight, which was quite stressful. I knew this was going to be a pretty large party but hopefully, if they see only one woman behind the counter they'll show some mercy. I noticed the first couple of guests start to pour in and find places to sit while and I took that time to pull out some glasses, just trying to prepare as much as possible.
As everyone walked around I couldn't help but admire the beautiful wardrobe of some of the guests, just as I admired the emerald green suit of a man in the corner, a younger blonde woman walked up to the bar. She looked like someone straight off of the cover of Cosmopolitan. I mean she was gorgeous, real model material.
"Good Evening, what can I get started for you?" I gave her a warm smile and she instantly smiled back.
"Well aren't you the cutest little darn bartender I ever did see!", she squealed, a country twang in her voice, obviously American, and so kind, "I am LOVIN' it here in the 'yew-kay' just such a darlin' little place I don't ever wanna leave!" she laughed, "Alright, alright, excuse my ramblin', I'll just have a dirty martini, but none of those uh, those olives on the little toothpick, alright? Just a lemon twist will do! Thank you dear," she smiled and took one of the stools at the bar, examining the room. I poured her drink and gently pushed it toward her.
"Here you go!", she turned to me and smiled, digging in her clutch for what I assumed to be money, "The total is going to be-" and before I could even finish, she cut me off.
"Nonsense, sweetheart! You're about to have a busy night, might as well start it off right, hm? This should cover the price and keep the rest for yourself. Oooh! And let me tell ya," she leaned in "You best be keepin' your eye out on the men here if that's the team ya play for, 'cause I'm tellin' ya, there are some gorgeous men out here tonight. Anyway doll, I'll let ya go so you can take care of all these lovely people!", before she walked away she pushed a £50 note my way and I smiled. Maybe this night wouldn't be too bad after all, eh?
I'm gonna go ahead and preface this part I'm about to tell you with a little fact about me. So let's just say I'm a little bit of a fan of the film Die Hard. Okay, okay, you got me. I'm a HUGE fan. This is precisely why I almost dropped $200 of fancy vodka on the black marble flooring when the one and only Hans Gruber walked through the door. He was wearing a very, very flattering black suit and I had to physically take a step back from the counter.
I could tell the man I was tending to was growing impatient and I quickly got back to making and serving his Old Fashioned, but my eyes were glued to him the entire time. I mean not only was he famous, but he was drop-dead GORGEOUS!
Suffice it to say I almost pissed myself when I saw him walk over to my counter.
"Um, hi, uh, okay wow, haha sorry about that er- what...what can I get for you sir?", I stumbled over my words, completely and utterly humiliating myself. I could feel my cheeks burn red as I held the freezing cocktail shaker in my hand.
"Good Evening, doll," he purred. I swear I almost felt my legs give out on me. "No need to be so nervous, darling. I'm a nice man, really. Not the big bad guy you see on the screen," he chuckled.
"Sorry sir, I've never met a celebrity in real life," I was trying to cover for myself and I really just sounded like a nerd.
"I'm not used to being called sir," he said.
"Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to offend-"
"No, no, I'm not complaining. I like it," he smiled. God if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was flirting with me but I knew he wasn't. I think he's just got that charm. "I'll take a Vieux Carré, doll. On the rocks, extra cherry," he slid a credit card my way before I could even start his drink. "Go ahead and keep that behind the counter darling, I'll be paying you quite a few visits this evening," he said with a smile. There was something about him that was just so effortlessly sexy. I just couldn't wrap my head around it.
I finished up his drink and slid it toward him on the bar, "For you, Mr.Rickman, let me know if you need anything else," I spoke, trying to be flirty. I mean I really did want to make the most of the night.
He took a polite sip from the glass and gave off a sultry smile that I swear made my heart skip a beat. "It's perfect darling, thank you," I saw him glance at my name tag, squinting a bit at the tiny print. "Charlotte? What a beautiful name. "I suppose I'll be back later," and with that, he walked away. I was so glad that there were no customers waiting for their drinks because I felt like I could barely even breathe. I tried to distract myself by wiping down non-existent spills on the counter, focusing on the small specks and sparkles of the marble. Every so often I could swear I felt someone's eyes burning into me.
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It was nearing midnight by now and I had served everyone at the party at least 3 times, well almost everyone. I still had Mr.Rickman's card behind the counter but he never came back, he just stayed at the same table eyeing everyone at the event. I could feel myself growing more and more exhausted by the minute, but the party ended at 1 and we usually do clean up in the morning so I knew that I'd get to bolt out of there the second the clock strikes the hour. Just as I was getting lost in my thoughts and actually cleaning the bar, a familiar voice approached me.
"So, Charlotte...tell me a bit about yourself," he spoke. I looked up at him, a small strand of hair falling in front of my eyes. Where was I supposed to begin!?
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Eeek! New fanfic, I'm so so excited about this one. Sorry for such a short first chapter!
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Vieux Carré || Alan Rickman
Fanfiction┌── •✧• ──┐ He brought the frosted glass up to his lips, taking a sip before mouthing the words 'thank you' and flashing a smile. He had that charm of some man you had just met at the park on a sunny af...
