Whatever Floats your Boat

Chapter Seventeen

A very short chapter from me but I guess I had made the smallest filler known to man last summer. Hope you enjoy lovelies, and have a stupendously amazing day xx

Copyright © Georgie E. - Fruitea on Wattpad  

Chapter 17

"Oh, what a quaint little place!"

I giggled as I walked in behind Tristan, pressing my palm flat on the pane to let Keet through too. Tristan stopped, and when we were at his side, he wrapped an arm around our shoulders – pimping it out, he would say.

"Oh God, the riffraff are here."

Tristan gasped, the hand connected to the arm around Keet going to his heart (and ultimately crushing his friend to his body). "That is just rude, we are guests."

"To me you three are customers, not guests."

I laughed again. People were looking our way now, some with curious looks and others putting their nose up at us. I ignored it, turning my attention back to my friend, and boss.

"Table for three, Monsieur Geoff."

"Right this way," Geoff deadpanned and marched us to the back of the room. We were given a table under one of the alcoves, just a few tables over from where Kendal and I had our breakfast last week.

"Lou, stop it. This was so you could get away from your moping self."

My gaze moved from the table, at the moment empty and dark with only a tea light flickering for awaiting guests, to shoot a glare at Keet. I knew she was right. I had been a moody sod the past week since contact with Kendal had all dried up. "I thought this was part of the tradition?"

My company smirked. Since we started working together a few years ago, making a friendship not only in the workplace but at school, we had taken a shift off once a month every Wednesday. We made it our very own date night, going to Wine Down to dine and send Geoff up the wall.

"Well, yes... but I thought that would stop with Troutbeck, so..." I glowered at Tristan who had a smirk on his face. "But seriously though," his features sobered; "What's with this silent treatment?"

"I don't know, you ask him." I leaned back in my chair and looked out the window. I had been pleasantly surprised too many times lately when it wasn't dark by seven. "Remember he's the one not talking to me."

"Don't be stroppy," Keet warned. "Maybe he's busy."

"Or needs some time away to think."

"To think about what?" I snapped and crossed my arms.

"Oh, we're in the stroppy zone." I glowered at Keet.

There was a thick silence, one that made my stomach knot and had my head hurting from thinking too hard. I just didn't know what I had done to make Kendal go quiet this way.

"You need to stop thinking about it," Keet said. Tristan nodded, reaching across the table and taking my fidgeting hand. I smiled weakly, trying to show that I didn't really care. But it hurt, Kendal had been skipping out on practice the past week, had left messages unseen and hadn't once tried calling me back.

My hand was dropped as a presence was introduced to my side. I looked up, finding Geoff with a bored look and a notepad in hand. "Hello, welcome to Wine Down, I'm Geoff – but you already knew that – your waiter this evening. What do you want for drinks to start?"

We listed off the usual; three glasses of house red, and with a smirk Geoff did his usual; asked us for ID. With a roll of our eyes we brought our respective driving licences and passports. He handed them back, a firm nod given beforehand, and went off to make up our drinks.

I started reading the menu, already knowing what I wanted to order, but reading the first few leaves of the booklet. Geoff had put the timeline of the restaurant on the front pages, giving guests something to do if their date is stale.

I smiled as I read about Geoff's childhood; he had been brought up by his Italian parents, both adamant that he knew the best wines and what to eat said wines with. He was shown how to sauté onions by the age of six and knew the flick of the wrist to a perfect pancake aged eight. There were photos, of Geoff in horrible rugby tops and baggy jeans at the counter, cutting up vegetables into minuscule cubes, him in culinary school in all his whites and some of him opening the restaurant.

So now, I hope you enjoy witnessing what good food with the best wine is like. And maybe the company will be bad; maybe your date makes you want to sleep or one of the teenagers I have the nightmare of employing had dropped another dish, but I hope you like your time at Wine Down - and if you did why don't you say something on the Facebook page, tweet about it or hashtag your meal on Instagram with #WineDown?

"What's it with you pawing at every man you come out to dinner with, Lou?" Geoff asked as he put a glass of wine in front the three of us.

I rolled my eyes; "Why, jealous Geoff?"

Geoff scoffed; "Yes, very." I laughed and shook my head. "But talking about your countless men, where's your boyfriend got to?"

I shrugged; "I'm not his keeper."

"Ooh," Geoff sang as he put the tray under his armpit, on the brink of leaving. "Trouble in paradise?"

"He's giving her the silent treatment," Keet supplied and I shot her a look. Why did she have to say anything, she knew that Geoff was a pain in the arse without anything on us?

"Ah," he nodded in understanding. "What'cha do?"

"I don't know, Geoff and quite honestly I don't care."

"Someone's acting like they're caring." Could he go one sentence without teasing in song?

I glared up at him, taking my wine and sipping. He kept his eyes on me as it went down, smirking as my lips twisted at the bitterness.

"Don't be in a grump about it," Geoff went on like he wasn't getting under my skin like some type of spawn-laying insect. "It's nice to see Lou Douglas giving a damn for once." He turned and left, leaving me staring down at my menu like it was the most interesting in the world. Over my bowed head I could feel Keet's and Tristan's eyes on me.

"Lou...?"

"Yeah," I answered, not lifting my head. Who knew you could get so many varieties of Rosé?

"I have to ask," Tristan paused, gulping; "Why do you care, you didn't care this early on with Troutbeck?"

I scoffed; "I don't care."

"Oh, but you do Honey." I glared at Keet, why is she bringing in her two penny? She laughed at my look of warning; "You've been moping around since you haven't had anyone to treat you like their meaning to life." I rolled my eyes, if only she knew that we were the means to each other's ends.

"I haven't," I said weakly even though I knew that I had been grouchy and distant since Kendal hadn't picked up my calls.

"It's understandable, Lou," Tristan piped up. I was shocked he hadn't said anything sooner; he always thought his opinion was the right one. "You've been dating for a while now and after what happened with Beck you would be suspicious of his distance; it's a low blow."

"Okay, Mr Psychology." Tristan shrugged, looking pleased with himself. I added with a huff, wanting that superiority off his face; "And can you stop bringing up Beck – it's not needed."

"Okay," Tristan's hands rose. "But maybe you should face the fact that you really care for him." I sighed, knowing that I wouldn't be able to tell them about me and Kendal – not now that they thought I actually cared. "Call him and ask him what's going on because it's driving you crazy."

I smiled at the thought. Although I knew Kendal wasn't ever going to be the one I was going to go crazy over, it was a romantic thought.

"You should do it."