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‘He seems like a delight.’
As much of a dickhead as Oliver is, I can’t stop thinking about one thing he said.If you’re bored in London, you might as well be anywhere else.I’m not bored. Am I? It sounds an awful lot like what Josie’s been repeating over the past few weeks, trying to get me to make the most of this city.
The bartender puts a whiskey on the rocks onto the bar, condensation already dripping down the sides of the glass amidst the syrupy heat of the room. ‘Where did he— oh. Did you guys want anything else?’
She eyes me warily and I consider the whiskey for a second before shaking my head and saying, ‘That’s all.’
She shrugs and keys in the order. Oliver has ordered one of their most expensive brands. A double, obviously. After I’ve paid, I pick up the glass, already recoiling at the smell.
‘Is that mine?’ Oliver’s grating voice hits me before I see him, back far too soon. I bet he didn’t even wash his hands. Manky boy.
‘Itwas,’ I say, before launching the drink to the back of my throat, trying in vain to avoid the ice cubes while the burn travels down to my stomach. I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth and mutter, ‘I hate whiskey.’
‘Did you just take that as a shot? That’s vintage.’ His eyes are wide.
The warmth of the whiskey has loosened my tongue just enough. ‘Oliver.’
‘You can call me Ollie.’
‘Oliver. This isn’t happening. I’m out.’
‘What do y—’
‘You are not nearly tall enough to have an ego this big. Have a good evening.’
I’m unsurprised to note it takes approximately twelve seconds for him to lose interest and head back to the smoking area, where he will no doubt find someone else to exhaust with fascinating stories of cryptocurrency and lazy graduates.
‘Do you want anything?’ Finn asks, his jaw working like he’s chewing on a laugh to keep it from spilling out.
‘No thanks.’ He continues giving the bartender his extensive order.If you’re bored in London, you might as well be anywhere else.‘Finn, what are you doing here?’
‘Ordering a round… ?’
‘No, I mean, here-here. Are you with a business acquaintance? Or, you know, abusiness acquaintance?’
The corners of his mouth twitch and he says, ‘I’m here with the guys for work drinks.’ He looks behind us at a group of people sitting at a table against the far wall, which includes Julien and the lanky redhead from the first night. He sighs when he catches sight of his friend. ‘God, Julien’s indecently handsome, isn’t he? But why do you ask?’
I think about that rough wool of mundanity. I can be spontaneous. Tonight, I refuse to be bored.
‘Show me your bucket list.’ I remember to tack on a modicum of politeness at the end, ‘Please.’
He slides his phone out of his pocket, pulling up his Notes app, and I skim it, not sure what I’m looking for. The items range from vague to extremely niche, with a whole lot of middle ground. Most aren’t specific to London at all, which makes the list even weirder.Eat at a local restaurant. Become a regular. See the dinosaurs.
At the bottom of the list I spot a line that says:Find a rooftop.
‘Fancy crossing something off the list?’ I ask, handing back his phone and spitting the words out before I regret them.
‘And leave my colleagues? I’m the life and soul of the party.’
I glance over to where the raucous sound of his coworkers’ laughter is emanating. ‘I’ll be honest, I think they’ll survive.’
‘But Ava, won’t they think we’re doing somethingsalacious?’
‘We’re going to Tesco.’
‘Oh.’ He frowns. ‘I didn’t know that was on my list.’
‘It’s not.’ The pub is loud around us, and I have to lean towards him to be sure he’ll hear me. ‘Listen, I have an idea, but this is a one-time offer. Take it or leave it.’
