Clooney that turns me into a ridiculous teenage girl that can’t think clearly?
Thursday 1st October
Today we’ve closed the pub, dropped Suki off to Kathleen’s, and driven to Dublin to drop off our hire car and then attend our food hygiene course. We don’t really need the car now with Clooney owning one and it’s another expense we could do without.
‘I don’t know why they made me do this,’ Clooney complains as we walk out of the course, having completed and passed our assessments. ‘I’m well used to the kitchen and Lenny knows it. Unlike you two who can’t even make toast.’
‘Hey,’ I snap, shoving him on the shoulder. ‘We passed, didn’t we? According to them we’re as equally qualified as you.’
He smiles condescendingly. ‘Just because you can ace a quiz doesn’t mean you can cook.’
‘He’s kind of right,’ Ella agrees with a scrunch of her nose.
He grins back at me smugly, as if to say, “See, even she agrees.”
‘So your taxi mate is collecting us, right?’ I ask as we walk onto the street. I can’t see anyone waiting. He ignored my advice for him to drive his car to take us home. Said he might fancy a drink at lunch.
He grins mischievously. ‘Well, actually, I have a bit of a surprise for you.’
My stomach does a somersault. I hate surprises. I like to know what I’m doing and when I’m doing it.
I stare at him, unamused. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ After the too long course, all I’m looking forward to is soaking in a hot bath, and not listening to Clooney talk in riddles.
He locks his forest green eyes with mine. ‘I thought I’d show you what Dublin has to offer.’
‘You’re taking us out?’ Ella asks with an excited gasp.
He grins, turning and winking at me. ‘Yep, we’re going on a bar crawl, Dublin style.’
What did that wink mean? And why did it make me tingle down below? I don’t even like this guy, let alone fancy him.
Ella jumps up and down enthusiastically. ‘Yay!’
He throws his arm around my shoulders. ‘Come on, Poodles. I hate when you’re mad at me.’
I can’t help but smile back at him. I still want to be outraged, but damn, when the idiot touches me, I go stupid.
‘Okay, but we can’t be out late.’
Seven hours later we’re in some random bar in Dublin, getting more free drinks from yet another bar tender Clooney knows. I’ve lost count of how many drinks we’ve sank. Dublin is fun! It’s just like central London except everyone is friendly and you’re not so scared of getting beaten up in the toilets. Ella is dancing on top of the bar while I watch, happily content, sat next to Clooney.
I know I’m drunk, but every now and again Clooney will touch my leg or my back when he can’t hear what I’m saying over the music. It’s turning me crazily on, the throb between my legs growing intense. It’s official, I need to stop drinking cocktails, they’re bad for my brain.
He looks down at his phone, his eyes widening. ‘Shit, Conner’s here. We need to go.’
I motion for Ella to get off the bar. She begrudgingly does when I shout that she can finish my cocktail. Then Clooney and I take an arm of hers each and all but carry her out while she moans in protest.
Clooney leads us to what looks like a van.
‘Hey Connor,’ he shouts into the front window. ‘I think Ella might be better riding up front with you.’
She giggles, leaning down to say hello to the good looking redhead. ‘Well, hello, Connor. Damn, are all Irish boys as dreamy as you two?’
‘Are you sure?’ I ask him with a laugh. ‘She might be pregnant by the end of the journey.’
We chuckle as we place her into her seat and put her seat belt on.
He takes my arm and opens up the side of the van. I expect seats, but to my horror it’s just a regular worker’s van. Its full of tools and leftover pots of paint.
‘What the hell, Clooney? I thought you said he was a taxi driver?’
He avoids my eye gaze as he climbs in. ‘He is, of sorts.’ He turns back to look at me, trying to gauge my reaction.
‘What the hell does that mean?’ I ask, swaying from side to side. It’s hard to act responsible when you’re this drunk.
‘Just get in, will ya?’ he reaches his hand out to me.
‘I don’t know ab—' He grabs my arm