Find Me Alastar(50)

My eyes turn to look out of the window. Holy hell. This is the world’s biggest cock up. Why don’t you like Stephanie, you dip shit?

We arrive at the restaurant and go in. “Booking for White.”

“Yes.” The waiter scribbles on his booking pad. “Right this way, please.”

We follow him as I look around the space. The restaurant is huge with three split-levels. A bar sits on the top tier, and then there are seven steps down to the next level, and around the same drop down to the bottom floor. We are seated in front of the huge arch windows in the middle level. Mark pulls my seat out for me and I take my place. I need a damn drink and I need it quick.

Eleanor is the first to speak. “So, you are an Australian.”

“Yes.” I smile bashfully. “Where are you from?” I ask.

“Originally from here, but we now live in Scotland.”

“Oh.” I smile. “I’ve never been. It’s supposed to be beautiful.”

“It is. It really is.”

The waitress comes and takes the drink orders.

“This is your first time over here, isn’t it, Emerson?” Mark asks.

“Yes.”

“You should go to Ireland, too,” Bert announces. “Beautiful place, You should take her there, Mark.” I fake a smile and wish the ground would swallow me up. I do want to go to Ireland but I want someone else to take me to meet his parents.

Jeez, as if that’s ever going to happen. Stop dreaming, fool!

We order our meals and I find myself drinking way too fast, but honestly, this situation is a total nightmare. Mark’s parents are so nice and Mark is trying so hard. I’m not being fair at all.

Eleanor pulls out her phone and starts to go through it, showing me photos of her grandchildren from Mark’s sisters. I sit and smile as she proudly shows them off. She is a lovely woman.

“And this child here…” She points to the screen. “Just like my Mark when he was a boy. So athletic.”

My eyes flicker up to Mark and he gently takes my hand under the table, holding it in my lap as he looks at me.

Shit. What now? I don’t want to hold your hand. The waitress fills my glass again and I stare up at her, hoping she can read my mind. I need something strong, bitch. Not f*cking wine. I start to sweat. I need to pay someone in that kitchen to give me salmonella poisoning right now—anything to get me the hell out of here. Hospital would be a much better option.

“And this child here…” His mother goes on, but I have stopped listening to the family resemblance that seems to be going on forever.

Our meals arrive and Mark, once again, fills my wine glass, welcoming my inebriation.

“Thank you.” I smile. He grabs my hand affectionately under the table and smiles adoringly at me. I frown at him and gently shake my head. I don’t want you to hold my hand, and if your parents weren’t here, I would pull away. Please read my mind.

The waiter arrives with a tray of drinks. “You must have the wrong table?” Mark frowns. “Our drinks are already here.”

The waiter shakes his head. “No, these are a gift from the gentleman at the bar.”

We all look up to the bar but don’t see anyone.

The waiter puts four shots onto the table and then four shots of a white liquid.

I frown.

“What is this?” Mark asks.

The waiter smiles and points to the clear liquid. “This is tequila and the man who gifted them to you said...” He frowns and pulls out a note and reads it out loud. “He said to tell you to enjoy your tequila but unfortunately the Emmaline cream is unavailable for purchase. He has taken the liberty to supply you with another.”

Mark frowns and the waiter shrugs in an I don’t know either kind of gesture.

I drop my head.

Oh.

My.

Fucking.

God.

Alastar. These are from Alastar. The tequila and the cream chaser… why the cream chaser? Emmaline cream isn’t available? I frown as I try and put the puzzle together. Oh f*ck…

The cream is to symbolize going down on me.

Cream after tequila.

My face starts to burn up. What in the hell is he doing here?

Shit, shit, shit.

I pick up one of the shots and throw it back.

Hell, give me another.

Mark frowns at my alcoholic behavior and puts his arm around my shoulders. “Is your dinner okay, honey?”

Oh, sod off, and stop being so damn nice. I’m about to vomit in my own mouth here. I nod and drain my glass of wine in one gulp.

“Huh, thirsty, girl?” Eleanor smiles, amused. “I bet you can drink, hey, lass?”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. How much shit can I listen to? This is abysmal; I need to get out of here. I stand. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

“Do you want me to show you where it is?” Mark asks gently.

“Nope.” I snap. His face falls. Fuck, that came out harsh. “No, I’m okay, thank you for offering, though.” I stand and make my way down a corridor toward the bathrooms. At the end of the hall is the door to the kitchen, and then the men’s and women’s bathrooms. I walk into the women’s, bang the door shut and sit on the toilet. This is a nightmare. What in the hell is he doing here? I told him I couldn’t see him tonight.