Love With No Filter - Book 1

1. INEZ

"One more round of your cranberry vodka please for me and my talented bestfriend." Amelia giggled, leaning over the bar to get the bartenders attention. He looked at her and shook his head with disapproval but still poured the drink.

"Are you trying to get me drunk Ami?" I rolled my eyes taking the shot from the bartenders hand and downing the contents, "cause if you are," I winced at the taste of burning liquor, "it's working."

She propped her head up on her hand, a wide smile showing her perfect teeth, "Maybe." She said in a sing song tone. She sat up, swivelling around on her chair to face me. Amelia, slapped her hands down onto my thighs and looked at me with a bemused expression.

"I think the bartenders fit." She said seriously.

"Ok... then talk to him."

"Nooo I can't do that silly I'm not coming across as desperate!" It's times like this when I refuse to believe I've had the same amount to drink as Amelia yet I'm not nearly as tipsy as she is. I guess it pays off to be a heavy weight but sometimes it sucks. Like today when i actually feel like getting drunk.

I roll my eyes and look in the bartenders direction, "hey-" I look down at his name tag, "Jeremy. My friend," I pat her on the back, "Amelia thinks you're gorgeous. Fancy talking to her whilst I go toilet?"

"She's drunk. I'll be lucky if she can form a sentence." He says gruffly walking over to the pair of us whilst cleaning a glass with a cloth. He was good looking, tall, and dark haired. Maybe a little old for Amelia but he certainly wasn't displeasing to the eye.

"I can talk perfectly fine thank you very much. If that's your way of flirting you need some lessons." He raised an eyebrow at her, "Don't worry I'm a good teacher."

I excuse myself from the conversation before she makes a fool of herself. The queue for the bathroom isn't long. I reapply my red lipstick in the mirror, rubbing my lips together to spread out the colour.

I quickly snap a pic in the bathroom mirror that I could upload to Instagram later. I wouldn't consider myself vein, but I had enough self confidence to know that I looked pretty tonight. I didn't always feel pretty, but it was the times when I did - when my dark brunette hair was freshly washed and glossy, when my make up was on point, or when I had eaten healthy the past week so my I felt better about my body - that I considered myself to be good looking in my eyes.

I'm a strong believer that self-confidence is key. Fake it till you make it. You tell yourself you're pretty and make an effort and your insecurities go away. It doesn't always work, it's mainly temporary but temporary confidence is better than none at all.

I exit the female toilets, my eyes focused on my clutch as I search through it to find a mint. Then suddenly I bump into something.

No someone.

A tall, muscular figure. Smelling of cologne and spices. His frame was lean, like it could've engulfed me into a protective embrace. White shirt, blonde hair, silver cross chain. Then I looked up... and lord I wish I hadn't.

The face belonging to the dreamy body was non other than Nick Raynott. My worst enemy and coworker. A living nightmare. Satans spawn.

Absolute. utter. asshole.

"Watch where you're going Charleen." He said with a smirk. Oh that smirk - how I would love to wipe it off his smug face. I rolled my eyes at his greeting. Classy as always Nick.