The air was thick with the smell of burnt rubber, the individual responsible for it was currently downing her 30th shot of the night in the back bar. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of that space. Burping competitions and burnouts were hardly how she wanted their meeting to go.
It wasn’t a date, they weren’t on a date. Nothing so boring as that, this was a liaison, a meeting of common minds and interests. You didn’t date. Not this century. They weren’t the dating types.
Looking around the booths she thought she saw the one she was meeting, a flash of orange out the corner of her eye. Alas no. It was him. Talking about his country house again. He was always going on about the house in England he’d renovated and was now taking couples through. Nothing ever happened with him. Maybe the occasional murder in a neighbouring town, but he never really worried. His mate, no, his associate, his chum Barnaby would sort those things out. He preferred to quaff some brandy.
She wondered if she should have a drink, calm her nerves. After so long chatting online, private messages, even, when she’d had too many red wines with her older sister some cheeky snapchats sent she was still nervous meeting in public. Meeting together, for this.
Maybe, she thought it was in the restaurant that she’d find their meeting place. Walking through the gaming area X was there and his younger brother XI. Their younger sibling was probably sharing a yard glass out in the back bar. She wondered if she could do something for them, but, if they were her, she mused there was nothing she could do.
In the restaurant there were two Americans, at least that’s what she thought at first, one loud and brash guy and someone with so much bling she was for a moment dazzled. They were deep in conversation about network rights or something boorish. She shifted her coat around as she passed them.
She walked past them out into the courtyard, a rising worry taking hold. Maybe they’d got their schedules mixed up. Maybe they’d timeshifted the wrong thing.
Out in the courtyard, under an umbrella she saw a smoke trailing away from a lone figure. She was wearing a hat, perhaps against the cold, she wasn’t sure.
Her body, a casual shape of brush marks and curves, it was even more luxurious in real life.
She smiled at her as she sat down, the two of them together at last.
She complimented her on her own outfit.
They’d said something hard wearing, for their date that wasn’t a date.
You didn’t really date like this.
“Are you ready?” Her opposite number asked as she stubbed out what was mostly just a butt into the container on the table.
She nodded. They’d talked about this, not being a date. But they were going to make it memorable.
“Any problems?” She asked nodding to her coat.
No one suspected a thing as she walked through the pub. They’d all mocked them, tried to get in on the action.
“Well, let’s do this.” She grinned and withdrew the semi-automatic from her coat. “Hand in hand?” She asked with a grin.
--//
There were ratings spilling all over the floor as she tossed a grenade into the back bar. Her friend had brought it along just in case. She was glad of it. She didn’t want to go in there.
Stepping outside the pub she was buzzing, her friend had already lit up as their ride pulled up. The big B.
She looked to her friend as they both looked to the big B.
Should we? She looked to her friend.
Her friend laughed. The big B looked nervous.
That expression was the last he had as his contract was terminated.
They’d manage their own. They didn’t need an agent.
They didn’t need anyone.