Cocktails & Emotions ~ [DR3]

2. Dirty Martini

"Do me a favour and stop flattering yoursef"
-Do Me A Favour, Arctic Monkeys

Everyone is gathering their things as I stifle another yawn, tears gathering my eyes which are so desperate for sleep. I almost miss the excited bubbling chatter surrounding me including Matty rolling his empty bottle of beer in his hands asking "Where next?!" sounding thrilled to be out of the house. My mind swirls with all of the possibilities being fired around us, my eyes aching at the thought of staying out any longer. I don't think I've got any more energy in me, Indie knows it too.

She's looking at my with a small smile, one that I know means it's okay for me to leave. I sigh in quiet relief the feeling only growing when someone (maybe Ella) suggests Alfie's - a bar down the street which alongside stunning cocktails offers private karaoke rooms perfect for singing and dancing on nights of celebration like this. A night that I don't have the energy for. I've spent the last two hours forcing my eyes to stay open and my mind to stay focused on the conversation but it's a battle I'm slowly losing. I should've had another coffee, or maybe a redbull on my drive here. I should've tried to nap this morning after dropping Emmy off at kindergarten.

I almost bailed tonight. Truthfully, if it weren't Indie's birthday celebration I would've dropped out hours ago, even days ago.

With Christmas approaching my diary is packed with various Christmas gatherings at different variations of tipsiness. Already today I've set up three events today, leaving Codie to serve at the third to run here for Indie's birthday dinner. It's great for me, for the business and my savings account which is almost sitting at the level I've been aiming for all these months. It's not so great for my energy levels. I've been working all hours, and when I'm not at work I'm shipping Emmy to school or collecting supplies. As much as I enjoy it all, I'm looking forward to the slight January slump. At least then I can have a whole day to myself. At least I can have some time to breathe between taking bookings, ordering different bottles of liquor and writing up schedules. The fact I've managed to get here at all on a Saturday night is an achievement, Indie knows this she's sent thankful looks my way at least twice - the idea that she thinks she needs to be thankful for my presence makes my heart ache.

I clutch onto my car keys tighter in my hands, if I make a scene with the various mini-photo's bouncing against the table as I push myself up nobody seems to notice. "You're leaving?" Maybe one person noticed.

Daniel's eyes are a little wide when they fix on me, his lips parting as I straighten, ironing out the creases on my skirt. The question makes me stutter in my spot, unsure if I've made his question up in my mind because why would be talk to me? We've sat shoulder to shoulder for the last two hours and he's barely acknowledged my presence in the whole time. In fact, I know he hasn't acknowledged my presence the whole time. Because when I rushed in five minutes late he didn't even turn his head in my direction, the two of us have sat the whole time without exchanging a single word.

"You mean me?" I try not to raise my eyebrows or blurt out 'what the fuck' when Daniel nods his head in stiff confirmation. I have a feeling he's biting back a confused 'what the fuck' of his own. He's looking at me as if I'm stupid, and, maybe, if I were looking at the conversation from the outside I'd think I was.  His question was simple enough. "Uh-yeah." I'm too busy trying to hide the shock on my face to hide the yawn that falls from me. Bed. I need my bed and sleep.

Hours of it.

There's a pause as we stare at each other awkwardly. His words from eight days ago repeating in my head. 'Darling'. The whole muttering of the two syllable word was so condescending it made me feel sick. Who the hell does Daniel think he is?! The thought of the word is enough to have me bristling with anger once more. I spent the remainder of that night with my eyes set in a glare on him. All curiosity was gone from my gaze and I was left resisting the urge to stuff olives from my stolen dirty martini down his throat so he would just shut up. He never shuts up. Even when he's telling some down trodden story about how awful everything is in his billionaire life he never shuts up.It's left me rolling my eyes at least four times this evening.