I serve up another pint to a nameless regular, nodding and grinning and ready to shoot something, when the door opens and the air blows in off the street. It's heavy with car fumes and cigarette smoke, along with a tinge of wet garbage.
A woman in a leather jacket comes in with a huge bag under her arm. She approaches the bar and asks, "Hey, can I see your managuh?"
I nod and direct her to the office at the back. "Should be there, ma'am." God, I feel gross saying that.
Two minutes later, she leaves without looking at me. Not even a drink, either.
Another minute later, Mr. Wayne steps out from the office. "Maguire," he says. He waves his hand to follow him, waiting by the door by the toilets until I'm fully in the office. When he shuts the door, he looks at me and says, nodding to the desk, "Someone ordered those."
Small pink and white ruffle flowers sit in a small, plastic-looking square vase. They're arranged like they belong on a fancy restaurant's table rather than my manager's desk. A small envelope's been tucked between the flowers.
"They're...nice, yeah?" I ask.
Mr. Wayne grabs my shoulder. "Next time, don't have yer girl send them here. Send 'em to your flat." He pats me and says I can take them after my shift's done.
"Can I, read the letter?" I ask.
He rolls his eyes and says, "Two minutes."
I nod and snatch the thing, heading out of his office and into the back alley entrance.
Murph's words aren't written, but typed out. "Ordered them online, didja?" I whisper, and begin reading –
I have 500 characters to explain why I picked the flowers, and to justify my reasoning to get them. Carnations aren't "in your face", which I thought you'd like, and the white color represents love, while pink is admiration.I know you told me not to do this, but it's worth every damn penny to make sure my future husband knows how much I love him.And if I stepped over the line with it, let me know. I don't mean to embarrass you or something of the like.I love you, Tommy. Happy Valentines Day.
I have a right mind to tell him how pissed off I am that he's wasting money. If my face weren't red, and that his note admits that he shouldn't of done this, I would've told him.
I tuck the note in my back pocket and go back to work, humming.
YOU ARE READING
SomeWhere On... (BXB)
Romance[ A VERY Slow-Burn, Long Distance LGBT+ Romance ] The gay bars in London are busy, and Tommy's only goal is to pick up that cute guy at the bar. Except this American doesn't seem to realise he's being flirted with. Told through a series of locations...
