isabella [h.s.]

twenty six

** Why you staring at him? I can see,
when you know he belongs to me**

ISABELLA

I'm sat at the bar with Ceci, an old friend of mine who works as a barmaid at the strip club. I met her on my first night working there when I was practically shaking with nerves about having to dance onstage, and with her bright red hair, bold words of encouragement and the shot of tequila she poured me, she was the exact kind of person I needed in that moment. Since then, we've remained fairly good friends, despite the fact that we don't see each other much at work because she's behind the bar while I'm out on the floor. But even still, Ceci is funny and creative, she works at a tattoo parlour on the side, and she has that sexy 90s rock chick look about her that men drool over. And she can make a good drink, which I always think is a plus for anyone.

As narcissistic as it may sound, the men in this bar haven't left either of us alone since we first walked in, although I suppose I can't really blame them. I'm dressed in a tight, blue satin dress, which I purposefully chose to compliment my tan from the Hamptons. My makeup is soft, my freshly-pedicured feet are clad in my favourite pair of Saint Laurent heels, and my hair is tied up in a bun with a few wispy strands framing my face. Seated to my right, Ceci is looking vixen-like in her lacy black bralette, a red vinyl skirt and chunky black boots, her equally as red hair falling just past her shoulders. Together, we look quite the pair, so it's not that surprising that we've both already had drinks bought for us by one of our many suitors milling around. It's too bad for them that we're both waiting for our actual dates to show up.

The location of the double date ended up being a fancy bar a few blocks down from the precinct so Harry and Officer Pérez, or Liam I should call him, could meet up with us as soon as they finish work. Tonight just so happens so be a trivia night, which is really the main reason why I picked this bar because I thought it'd be a perfect safety net in case one of the dates verges into awkward silence territory - because this way, we'll all have something to talk about. Pretty genius on my part, I must say.

Just as I'm wondering where on earth Harry and Liam are, swirling the cocktail stirrer around my martini glass and laughing at something Ceci just said, I suddenly spot the two of them strolling through the entrance. Thankfully, Liam has had the time to replace his NYPD shirt with a plainer one, and Harry is dressed in his usual smart work clothes, made more casual by the jacket slung over his arm, the rolled up sleeves and his slightly unbuttoned black shirt, allowing his silver chain and some of his chest tattoos to peek through. Even from here, I can tell that he must've forgot to shave this morning, or didn't do it very well, because he's sporting some five o'clock shadow across his jaw, although the faint stubble only accentuates the rugged look he's got going on.

"Wow," Ceci suddenly says from beside me, clearly having noticed them walk in too. When I glance over at her, I find that her eyes are focused entirely on Harry, narrowed slightly with obvious desire. "Is that Harry? He looks hot." Her gaze then slides over to Liam and she smiles a little. "Oh, and is that Liam? He's cute."

I just hum softly, taking another small sip of my martini and continuing to peer at them over the rim of my glass, watching them approach. When I first met Liam this morning, I immediately thought he was cute, and that's, partly anyway, the reason why I took his number and agreed to this date. Because he's cute, and I like cute guys. I always thought 'hot' and 'cute' were similar enough adjectives, that they were just two ways of describing a man you find attractive, that there's not much difference between them. But looking at Harry and Liam now, the hot Detective Styles and the cute Officer Pérez, I realise there's quite a big difference after all. And I'm scared to admit which one I prefer.