Sophia: The BossMature

Despite my initial plans of trying to have a good time, I soon realised that it wasn’t that easy when you were on your own and a little rusty with being sociable. Roxy would have had no problem mixing with the testosterone fuelled men in the club, but Sophia? No, I was shy and cursed myself for thinking that I would be able to do this by myself. If I’d come with friends – the few friends I still kept in contact with from school – I might have done better.

Instead, I watched on, sipping my drink and watching the night go by. The bar side died down after a couple hours and I was able to get a glimpse of the guy who was also working the bar tonight. He wore glasses and, at first glance, could easily be stereotyped as being a bit of a nerd. But when I looked closer I noticed that, from behind his rimmed glasses, his eyes were the darkest shade of brown and matched his hair colour almost exactly. His skin was tanned and was, actually, headed in the direction of being a rather attractive guy, though a little on the skinny side.

A small smile appeared on my face. When he dismissed the other girl, Mo I remembered, from behind the bar, I saw this as my chance to get his attention.

“Hey.” I called, hoping he could hear me. He turned in my direction and I smiled. He approached me from behind the bar and smiled in response, a little more relaxed than how he’d been earlier in the night.

“What can I get you?” he asked. He had a lovely voice. It was both rich and sweet at the same time; like chocolate.

“Martini.” I answered. He responded with a school boy grin, set to impress me with his cocktail making skills. Unfortunately, much like his colleague, he failed dismally. This time I couldn’t help but laugh. I felt slightly bad, but it had been the funniest thing I had seen in a long time. His second attempt was much better, though still not perfect; I’d have to show him how to make a cocktail properly someday… well, rhetorically speaking.

“Sorry about that.” he said, handing the glass over to me. I reached into my bag and retrieved my purse ready to pay but was interrupted, “On the house.” Graciously, I put the purse back to my bag and returned the nervous smile that was spread across his face.

If I had a type, he certainly didn’t fit it. For a start, my parents would never approve so there was no point. I was about to turn away when he spoke again, snapping my attention back to him.

“I’m Milo.” he stated, offering me his hand to shake, “Not only am I sorry for making a fool of myself earlier on, but I own the place. What do you think?”

I cocked my head to the side slightly. I didn’t usually give my real name out to anybody, certainly not on the first night of meeting them. It just wasn’t something I did. I couldn’t get close to anybody so there was no point.

“It’s good.” I simply replied. He smiled weakly, a little hurt that I’d not given him a name to go by, and returned his hand to his side. It must have stung. I did feel bad but it was necessary.

“Just good?” he asked. He was trying to get more words out of me. He was trying to hit on me in a sweet gentlemanly way. I suppressed a giggle.

“Okay,” I began again, “it’s really good.” He laughed, clearly feeling like a fool talking to me. I had that effect on men. I couldn’t help it, but I did. Roxy would have lavished in this kind of attention but I just wanted to keep to myself. He seemed like a nice guy but I couldn’t afford to have a nice guy in my life.

“Really good, hmm? Okay, I’ll accept that one.” Despite his attempts, he didn’t half look like a wounded animal and I really felt bad for him. I should have just left then so that things couldn’t get any worse for him but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave. He intrigued me.

“Can I get a beer?” I asked. He looked at me oddly. I smiled.

“Sure.” He answered coyly. When he came back he placed the opened bottle on the counter in front of me and I handed over the money to pay.

“Thanks.” I answered, placing my Martini on the bar beside me.

“You’ve not finished that one yet.” He said, pointing to the glass.

“I know. The beer’s not for me.”

“Oh? Who’s it for then?”

“You.” I responded. The corner on one side of his lips raised slightly, a genuinely surprised smile brewing on his face. I sipped at my Martini and thought ‘to hell with it’. I extended my hand over the bar to him, “Sophia.”

The End

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