Hey guys! Yes, another story from me-not sure if that's a good or a bad thing *sweatdrop* But I got this idea from that scene in He's Just Not That Into You when Gigi tries stalking Connor and meets Alex instead. I tried not to portray Rachael as too desperate as I don't think she's nearly as bad as Gigi was. Anyway, I hope they aren't too OOC...
I've had most of this chapter written up for awhile now and had no idea what to do with it. I still don't, really. Hope that doesn't show too much...
Hope you all enjoy!
~RR
She had no idea what possessed her to go to the upscale bar. She had gotten dressed up after work and resolved to go, but now her steely determination gave way to anxiety.
She had gone on a date with Garfield Logan about a week ago and had yet to receive a call from him. She reverently paid attention to her cell phone all week in hopes that she would get a call to schedule another date with him.
She sighed, dating had never been her forte. And, it seemed, she was way out of practice. Ever since Malcolm Nor cheated on her, she found it difficult to open up to people. But she liked Gar and while there weren't any sparks yet, there could be. And he wasn't calling her back.
She was set to inherit the Trigon Corp. from her father, Derek Trigon. She was currently managing the Western branch in Jump City where she had a lower profile. In Gotham city, the headquarters of Trigon Corp., she was well known and was constantly swarmed by the paparazzi. Here she at least had a quieter existence, only being recognised on rare occasions. She shared many of her father's famed qualities—they both were known for their icy glares, aloof attitudes, and sarcastic wit.
Not to mention, Rachael characterised herself as decently attractive—she was no beauty but she felt…adequate. She wasn't anything exceptional in the physical department. So, it really shouldn't have surprised her that he had yet to call.
Still, maybe she could salvage the opportunity. This accounted for why she was out on a Thursday night at a random bar where she clearly didn't fit in. Still, he had mentioned it was a place he frequented for drinks after work. It also accounted for her unusual attire- a form fitting black dress and a purple blazer (the blazer had been a last minute add on when she began to think of how uncomfortable she would feel without some form of coverage). She had gone through the trouble of straightening her shoulder-length ebony hair so that it framed her heart-shaped face and had applied a hint of make-up that she hoped enhanced her peculiar violet eyes.
Sitting at the bar, she drummed her fingers impatiently, trying to look for Gar and look nonchalant simultaneously. In an effort to combat her rising anxiety, she examined her surroundings thoroughly. The bar was stashed with hundreds of different alcohols, many on display on well-lit contemporary glass shelves against the wall. The bar was a sleek, black wood that wrapped around the wall of liquor so that it resembled half of a hexagon. Bar stools of the same wood and cream cushions were lined around the bar, most of the seats were occupied. The staff at the bar were frantically trying to keep up with the influx of orders.
She craned her head to get a better view of the restaurant behind her—Maybe Gar went there?
Roy sighed, trying not to be rude.
"We had a lot of fun the other night," Karen said, seductively, "Maybe we should ditch work and go for round two? I'm sure that's why you put us on the same work rotation tonight."
She then added a suggestive wink which made Roy think about what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.
He sat at his wooden desk, sorting through the papers with his liquor sponsor, who was being difficult about widening the selection of lager and ales at the bar area. She came in, wearing a see-through yellow chiffon shirt and black trousers. Her hair, normally kept in a bun, was let-down. But he really noticed her lips. Her red lips stood out against her chocolate skin, looking exotic.
He composed himself quickly asking, "What do you need Karen?"
"I came to get my check," she informed. Nodding, Roy opened the cabinet and shuffled around until he found it. While he was doing this, she manoeuvred herself behind his chair and began massaging his shoulders.
"You're so tense," she whispered in his ear, "Maybe I can help with that."
And, stressed as he was, he decided to throw caution to the window that night. Teaches me to mix business and pleasure he thought sourly.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed, "You're on this shift because we're understaffed. I have work to do and so do you."
She left in a huff but he visibly relaxed when the door closed. At least there had been no yelling or tears. He congratulated himself on sticking to his one-night-per-woman rule. He rose and went to the bar. He was glad he had the foresight to put Karen on waitress duty—at least he wouldn't have to see her again tonight.
He jumped in just in time to relieve Garth of his long shift. He was so focussed on getting orders out that he almost missed her. It was only due to a lull that he was able to look over and see her, sitting there all alone. Walking over to her, he asked, "Is there anything I can get for you?"
A ghost of a smile graced her delicate features, "No, that's alright, I'm just waiting for someone."
He nodded, "Who? If you don't mind me asking…?"
"Garfield," she replied amiably, "I met him last week for a date."
He gave her a quizzical look, "Garfield Logan?"
Her heart sank as she nodded.
"When were you supposed to meet him? I can give him a call if you like," suggested Roy, trying to be helpful, "It's not like him to be late."
Her cheeks instantly became stained crimson and she looked at the ground, willing it to swallow her whole.
"Erm, well, we didn't agree to meet here. I was in the area and I thought, why not?" she offered, lamely.
Roy, of course, saw right past that.
"He doesn't come in on Thursdays," informed Roy, "And you and I both know that you came here deliberately."
She glared, snarling "Oh, really? How would you know?"
"You look well-educated and like a business woman," he responded, "Which means you don't go to work in that."
She huffed, trying to salvage some pride, "You sound so sure of yourself."
He shrugged, "I'm good at reading people."
She frowned, "A little arrogant, aren't we?"
Noticing more customers, Roy said, "Hey, stay til the end of my shift, we'll talk when I clean up the place."
Part of her wanted to say 'No thanks' and just leave—he was a bit infuriating and assuming—but she found herself nodding, "Alright."
Several customers and a few hours later, everyone was ushered out finally giving Rachael a chance to speak with this bartender.
"Hmm," she began, breaking the silence of the now almost empty bar, "I don't think I caught your name."
"I'm Roy Harper," he informed.
"Rachael."
"Is there a last name that goes with that?" he asked jokingly.
"Of course," she remarked, "But I'd rather not say, if you don't mind. It draws unwarranted attention."
He gave an easy shrug, "Fair enough."
Gathering the glasses of the patrons at the bar, Roy assembled the army of glasses in the sink. As per sanitation regulations, each glass needed to be washed with soap and water before being placed into the washing machine for yet another wash.
Seeing this, Rachael removed her blazer and went over to the sink beginning to wash the cups.
"You don't have to do that, you know," stated Roy.
She shrugged, "Supposedly you have invaluable advice for me. I thought I'd pay you back for it in some way."
Roy thought of a million lines to reply with that contained...innuendos but he (correctly) assumed she would be put off by such lines. Deciding that he didn't want to drive away the only company around at present, he settled for saying, "Paying me back before you've heard what I have to say? What if it's all bullshit?"
She considered his words for a moment, "Then I'd kick your ass after."
"You could try, you mean."
"That sounds like a challenge to my martial arts abilities."
"Only if you take it as one," he replied with a cheeky grin.
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I didn't stay to fight you. So, pray tell, what are your miraculous words of wisdom?"
He smiled, "You're trying too hard."
"I beg your pardon?" she asked, trying not to sound offended.
"It's just that, well, if he hasn't called back he's not interested. That's all there is to it," explained Roy, "And chasing after someone who's clearly not interested is trying to hard."
Chewing over his words for a moment, Rachael retorted, "But what if he lost my number? Or his phone malfunctioned? Or he was on a business trip?"
"One: Then he clearly didn't value your number and probably wouldn't have called you back even if he managed not to lose it," retorted Roy professionally, clearly confident in the advice he was giving, "Two: His cellphone isn't the only phone in the world. He could call from work, from a home phone, from a friend's cell. Hell, he could even use a payphone. And, finally, where the hell would he go that doesn't have any phone service?"
Opening her mouth to respond, Rachael quickly closed it again. Several times she did this as she realised she had no way to counter these logical arguments. Turning her attention back to the army of pint glasses, she made considerable progress on the washing up as she ordered her thoughts.
Finally, she mumbled, "So I should take this as he's not interested in me. I'm not sure how I feel about that."
Roy chuckled, "Don't. There are a million reasons why he could not be interested. Have confidence in yourself and just know there are other fish in the sea."
"Easy for you to say," she grunted.
He laughed easily, "Just don't let it get to you. Look for someone else."
"What if there is no one else?" she asked.
"I highly doubt there is no one else who's interested in you."
She sighed, "You'd be surprised, then. I'm the decent-looking descendant of a business tycoon-meaning I'm always busy and always travelling. I don't have much to keep anyone around."
Cocking a brow, Roy waited a moment before replying, "Done with the pity party yet?"
"I was not having a pity party!" she snapped, her brow crinkling in anger, "I was merely stating facts."
"Well, then, you need help."
Almost dropping the glass she was washing, Rachael looked up in surprise. Few people were so candid. On the one hand she appreciated his candour but, on the other, she had a hard time accepting him telling her to accept psychiatric help. Especially since he barely knew her.
"How dare you," she replied, settling for anger, "You don't even know me."
He treated her to a lopsided grin and said innocently, "You thought I meant that kind of help. Whoops. I just meant you could use the help of someone like me."
Narrowing her eyes at him, she muttered, "You're infuriating, I hope you know."
"So I've been told."
As Rachael finished cleaning the dishes, Roy began to stack the barstools. This job gave Rachael time to watch him work. He had an excellent physique-he was toned and clearly dexterous. He was agile and worked quickly and diligently, a trait Rachael admired. She was glad for her 'poker face' as she was quickly able to avert her gaze from his form and still manage to look composed.
He might be infuriating but at least he's nice to look at she thought to herself before mentally scolding herself. She did not need another man messing up her life right now-her life was already full with Malcolm and Garfield. Finishing the dishes, Raven wiped her hands off of the excess water.
"Look," he offered, breaking the silence, "I've got some work to do...finance reports and the like but I'll give you my contact information. Call me if you ever need any advice."
Grabbing a business card, Roy scribbled his cellphone number and email on the back.
Taking the card and putting it in a compartment of her organised purse, Rachael stated, "Thanks. You may not be so bad after all."
He grinned, "I knew you'd see things my way."
Throwing him one last smile, Rachael put her coat on eager to get back home where she could pretend that she didn't feel entirely rejected.
"Hey Rachael," called Roy, causing her to turn, "Just remember: If he's interested he will make. It. Happen. Don't lower your standards for anyone who isn't willing to put in the effort for you."
Turning scarlet, Rachael muttered a quick thanks and stepped out into the cool October air. As she made her way to her parked car, she couldn't get Roy's parting words out of her head.
Hey all!
So I'm not sure if I want this to be a one-shot or not. I had plans for a plot but I also like the snapshot it gives of their budding friendship. Thoughts?
~RR