| Six fifty and she was still stuck in her black drabness that was called a uniform. As soon as John was finished with his dinner she would rush in and grab the dishes then dash upstairs and pull on a pair of wranglers, the ones that fit oh so right at that. Six fifty two, and not a sound from the no longer restricted room. Six fifty three, time for affirmative action. Jumping off the counter she had been watching the clock from Chantal scooted down the hall in double time and tore through the door with a small amount of satisfaction. She had been rather curious about this room since coming into Mr. John Taylor’s employ. He was sitting there ignoring the rest of his food stringing the Fender she had mentioned earlier in the afternoon, and hadn’t even heard her tear into the room. For a fabulously good looking rock star in red he certainly could be dull when he wanted to. Well maybe not dull so much as preoccupied. Apparently nothing had changed between her and him. Oh well. Simon awaited. She snuck over to the food hoping not to disturb John. She was almost out when suddenly he startled her with a "I really am sorry about not telling you Chantal." "Oh God!" She almost upset the dinner placed oh so quietly on the tray, and just barely managed not to spill the end of the milk. Really a rock star that drank milk? "Sorry you startled me." Taking a few steadying breaths she noticed that he really did have a vexed face of remorse. "It’s OK, I can see your point of view." "Still you must have gotten quite a scare seeing that video this afternoon. I would have liked to see your face frankly." He looked up then with a full smile that was so brilliant Chantal wondered for a second if she would fully recover. Whoa, was the major thought going on in her head. "Let me tell you sir, I certainly didn’t expect to see that on the TV. I mean I thought the shock of seeing Boy George couldn’t be topped, you however, succeeded." "I hope I looked a tiny bit better than he did on the screen." He cocked an eyebrow in an obvious fish for a compliment but Chantal suddenly had a slightly far away look to her eyes. "Oh yes sir, you looked absolutely wonderful. That suit that fit you so well, on that gorgeous boat with all the scenery, and your hair in the breeze, you looked so healthy." She ended with something of a goofy grin that John couldn’t pass up teasing just a bit more. "Just healthy? That’s the best description you can come up with?" "Frankly it was kind of sexy Mr. Taylor." She gave an impish grin then broke out in a blush when she realized who exactly she was speaking to. "I’m sorry." She squeezed out then began to back out from the room. "For what, that’s what you were soppose to think when you saw the video. And Chantal? Please call me John, I feel a bit weird having someone my own age calling me by my last name." "OK Sir, I mean John." Right then the front gate buzzed and John looked toward the clock on the wall. Chantal followed his glance and realized it was 7:00 on the dot. "Who would be calling at this hour, I don’t think any of my, uh, friends were going to stop by tonight?" "It’s actually my, friends, sir." Somehow she didn’t think that John wanted to know that she and Simon were going out tonight. Besides he was just a friend, for now. "Oh right. Well then I don’t think I need any thing else, I guess you can take off the rest of the night." "Right, thanks John." She smiled fully then dashed out of the room, milk remains splashing behind her. Hmm, thought John, rather cute when she’s excited. Two minutes on the fly Chantal had dumped the dishes in the sink, ran out to wave hi to Simon, then ran upstairs and grabbed her jeans and shirt. Putting on a pair of ridiculously large hoop earrings Vicky had insisted upon during their last shopping trip to Soho and a pair of dusty cowboy boots that were just going to have to do, Chantal ran out of her bedroom and out the front door while quickly fluffing her hair. It was time to have fun! "You’re sure this is the place? Looks rather run down to me." Simon and Chantal stood outside of the tiny hole in the wall pub proudly owned by Vicky and family for the last fifty five years. "Yeah this is it. And believe me, you don’t want to make anything but comments to my girl friend in there, she practically grew up in here." "Reminds me of some of the dives we started out playing in. Still slumming can be fun. Come on." Simon held open the door and ushered Chantal in. Chantal was expecting a quiet evening with a few scattered over sixties sitting about the worn down bar enjoying a bitter and a few bar peanuts. What actually appeared was a whole gaggle of women, every age, shape, and color imaginable, rowdily kicking back pints and gathered around the two dart boards in the back of the bar. Music, boisterous voices, and a few screams of triumph or upset filled the room. As soon as Simon walked into the room however, with a jovial "All right where is this hot friend of yours that wanted to meet me hiding?" the entire place went silent. Chantal swore she could hear the needle on the record player being ripped from the record. All women turned to look at the gorgeous man with blonde spiky hair, tiny hoop earring, very blue eyes and perfectly fitted black leather jacket with nothing less than hungry eyes. Suddenly bodies were being roughly pushed away as Vicky cleared a path. "Out of my way, move over you heffer, let me get a look here…" She too was silenced as she looked upon the only man in the bar. This was something that Chantal had not seen, in all her four months in England. Finally she shook herself from her shock and with raised eyebrows looked over at Chantal. "You really weren’t kidding. Holy mother, come here to momma darling!" Simon was instantly charmed by Vicky and when he got close swung her into a dip and kissed her fully on the lips! A rowdy cheer from the rest of the ladies went up and shook the roots of the old pub while Chantal just laughed. Finally swinging the thoroughly winded Vicky back up to a standing position Simon grabbed a tiny Indian women in a plaid shirt around the waist while a forty something hardy women in neon pink slapped him on the back. With an open mouth grin Simon yelled out "Drinks for everyone, on me!" The room exploded in cheers as Simon was swallowed by the crowd. It was going to be a hell of a good night. |
| Maid For You- Part Four |
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