Chapter 91
1218words
Even though I knew that the whole team had agreed to a drinking party it was still a surprising sight to behold to see so many heads towering my small figure.
"Hey." Looking out the corner of my eyes I saw Cher walking to me, pushing herself through the mass of people. "Everybody is here, so shall we leave now?" Cher asked.
I nodded. "Sure, but how are we going to get there with everyone?" I inquired.
We both decided in the end to go to a bar near the Manhattan riverside park. That bar had supposedly a beautiful view on the Manhattan river and was only nine minutes away with transport, so we thought that it would be the perfect place to start the out drinking festive, but there was one problem that we had overlooked.
How are we going travel with a big group of people? It would be a palpable move to use the public transport, but around this time it will be too crowded with people since it's the rush-hour, so adding another bunch of people doesn't seem like a smart move.
"How about we all split into groups and just hail a cab?" Cher presented her idea.
I hummed in agreement. That may be the best move for now. "Shall we?"
"No need to do that." Pithily Mark interjected himself in to the conversation. We both turned our head up and saw Mark typing something promptly on his phone. I glared semi-cautiously at him. "What do you mean with that?"
Putting both of his hands in his front pocket he smugly looked ahead. "You will see." He responded. Confusion was painted on both of our faces as Cher and I glanced at each other, but that expression was soon transformed into startlement as we heard a loud honking noise coming from the road.
We snapped our heads to the road to see a Minicoach parking at the side of the road. Our jaws went slack and we slowly craned our heads to look back at Mark whose smug grin only intensified.
"You called a Minicoach for a drive that only takes nine minutes?" I screeched incredulously. Those busses are expensive!
Mark pushed out his chest, inflating his already big chest as he snorted proudly. "Yep."
"Why!?" I cried.
His brow turned into an arch. "You don't like it? Would you have preferred to go with the public transport?"
"W-Well no-but." I sputtered. The bus is able to transport the whole team without any problem, but to throw a couple hundred of bucks away for a short drive is ridiculous!
I was about to open my mouth to protest when I felt a pair of hands pressing at my back, pushing me to the luxurious bus. "Now, now April. Don't you know the saying: Don't look a gifted horse in its mouth." Cher said, grinning wolfishly.
"But!" I cried. Cher ignored me and instead beckoned and yelled for everyone to enter the bus. No one hesitated and gladly complied, scurrying their asses into the bus.
Throughout the short drive I stared sulkily out of the window earning a chuckle from Cher and a triumphant look from Mark. Everybody else was enjoying the warm air that was blowing throughout the vehicle, heating everybody slowly up and the comfortable seating.
Arriving at the bar we were welcomed by the hostess. When she asked under whose name, we made a reservation under Mark pulled out his gentlemen-like smile and said his name. Like an instantaneous effect of hearing his name the hostess face lit up and excitedly guided us to our table.
You were immediately hit by the strong scent of beer and sweat as you went further inside the bar. Everywhere you looked the tables were filled with customers. Behind the counter you saw a middle-aged bartender with rolled up sleeves, freshening drinks and filling up orders for the people sitting at the counter. The people there obviously had already drunk quite a bit as their skin were flushed. They also didn't control their volume when they spoke, letting their whiskey-soaked voices ring throughout the bar.
Our assigned table was a long black table that was made out of smaller tables being pushed together. The chairs that were surrounding the table shared the same color as the table, but the vibrant crimson dyed seating cushions stood out like a sore thumb. The table was for the rest adorned with four lit candles that were placed from each other at a good distant. Next to each candle was a see-through vase standing with a rose in it.
Everybody gasped in awe and slid their coats off, hanging them over their chair. The ladies didn't waste their time and run like predators to where Mark was sitting, situating themselves around him. I was pretty pleased thinking that Cher and I could just sit at the opposite end of the table without being disturbed but-
"Ms. Westwood!" Smiling, Mark called out to me and patted the empty seat next to me. I grimaced and was about to refuse, but Mark quickly shot me a warning-glare. I let out a resigning sigh and pulled Cher with me so that she would at least sit next to me.
As soon as we sat down the air around us turned awkward as the ladies didn't try to hide their hostility in their blazing glares. Cher shot her own threatening glare at them and I only tittered, but on the inside, I was reciting a beautiful long sentence that only consisted of profanities as I could feel my blood boiling in frustration.
'You guys wouldn't be as fucking thirsty for him if you knew his true character.' I tried my best to just ignore them and stuck up my hand, calling out to one of the waiting staff that were interspersed around the bar so that we could start taking our order.
The waiter came and pulled out a pen and a leather pad folder. He went around asking everyone what they wanted and wrote it down. After hearing everybody's whishes the waiter went to the bar counter to pass the order over to the bartender.
In the meantime, that the bartender was busy preparing the orders everybody was talking to each other. While I was busy engaging a conversation with Cher, I felt Mark nudging at my leg. I eyed annoyed at him asking him with my eyes what the hell he wanted, but he himself was animatingly chatting with the ladies around him, putting on his smile that was reserved for clients.
I felt a nudge again and glanced down at my lap to see Mark typing something on his phone beneath the table.
I was too puzzled by his message to be shocked at the fact that Mark was able to type blindly- with one hand at that!
"Don't accept a drink from anyone else accept from me, also not from the waiting staff. Just tell me what you want to drink and I will bring it for you."
Huh?
