For His Pleasure

42

My manager Olivia had wanted to show me the nightlife around here, so she had brought me to the busiest pub in town.

By busiest, it meant there were around ten people in total in here on a Friday night, but I didn't care at all. It was a vastly different to the fancy restaurants and nightclubs I was used to back in the city, though.

Even though the cafe was open only on weekends, tomorrow's Saturday was a national holiday so it was closed, enabling our night out.

The first new thing I learnt about Olivia after we had arrived at the bar was that she loved to drink. We had started off with two tequila shots each and had then settled down at a small booth in the corner and ordered more drinks.

After a few hours after my nth glass of wine I had given up trying to keep up with her and her sky-high tolerance. We were laughing at the silliest things, getting to know each other and becoming more friends than we'd been before.

As the evening progressed, a few of her friends - who were at least 20 years older men and women - joined our table.

Everything was all fun and games until my phone began buzzing with a call. I slipped it out of my pocket and discreetly checked who was calling me while Olivia was in the midst of a funny story.

My heart stopped for a second when I saw that Ben was calling me.

It was almost midnight and he had almost never called me, which immediately made me jump to the conclusion that something had happened to Mr Capra Sr.

Panicked, I excused myself and exited the pub. I sat down on a nearby bench as I was rather tipsy by now, before bringing the phone up to my ear and answering.

"Ben," my voice came out completely breathless and shaky, one part nervous to actually be talking to him and hearing his voice while another part of me dreaded bad news about his father.

"Sofia, hey," his low voice was calm, not upset which would have hinted at something having happened to Mr Capra Sr, "are you busy?"

"Is everything okay? Has something happened to your father?" I asked shakily, bringing my free hand up to cover my mouth as I still expected the worst.

"He's fine," Ben replied, his voice like smooth bourbon, travelling through my body in a wave of warmth, "I just called to talk."

"To talk. Oh. Okay," I slowly replied, unable to hide the fact that I had drank quite a bit tonight, "yes."

"You've been drinking?" He chuckled and I could hear him shift around, sounding as if he was already in his bed getting ready to go to sleep soon.

"A bit," I admitted with a smile, not comprehending that I was actually talking to him, "it's so good to hear you voice."

He was quiet for a moment before replying, "ditto, sweetheart."

I most likely would have cried even if I had been sober now, so it was no surprise to me that a hot tear rolled down my cheek slowly. It hurt to know that he was so far away.

"Are you with friends or alone?" He asked after a moment.

"I'm with my friend at a pub. I came outside alone, I thought something had happened to your father. You've never called me just to chat," I explained my situation while fighting the slight slur in my voice.

"Sorry if I freaked you out," I could hear the grin in his voice, "wasn't my intention."

"It's fine," I giggled and shook my head at myself, "I'm just worried about him."

"He's doing good, though," Ben assured me, "you have nothing to worry about."

I just sighed, not wanting to start crying to him about how I could already see Mr Capra Sr's age affecting him and his motor skills.