Chapter 5: Comedic Comrades
"Oh my gawd! This is priceless!" Harry hollered. Chris covered his hand with his palm, discreetly trying to hide his mirth.
George threw him an exasperated look, regretting that he had narrated his ordeal to his friends in the first place. The look was the last straw for Harry and he finally burst out laughing, stomping his feet and thumping the table simultaneously in the process.
George pinched the bridge of his nose, grateful he had the sense to book a private VIP section in the bar, else people would have been throwing curious stares their way. It was an enclosed space, with really soft leather cushions and a mini bar filled with exotic drinks. Customers could serve themselves, or you could ask for a really hot waitress to do it for you. The lights were a bit dim, making it a favorite for shady transactions and even a quickie with your girlfriend. There was a gleaming pole in the center, where a half-naked stripper could dance away for you if you wished. It was expensive, but nothing he couldn't afford.
A snicker to his side snapped him out of his musings. He turned to glare at Chris, silently daring him to continue.
It was partly Chris fault that wall collapsed. He had paid a casual visit which had as usual ended up with Chris trying to take one of George's shirts home. George had put his foot down this time, and they had ended up in a playful brawl. A playful brawl between two heavy full grown adults had resulted in the fall of the wall seperating his room from Isla.
Chris swallowed forcefully in the heat of that glare, Harry could laugh. He couldn't. Point made.
"Okay. Okay. Calm down Harry. You can do this." Harry took a deep breath, exhaled, sniggered a little bit at the expression his companions wore, then finally regained his composure. "You have fixed the wall right?"
George nodded, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. It was a habit he was still trying to conquer from his last undercover mission. "Guy came through this morning."
"Why haven't you reminded her of the date she promised as a reward?"
There was a jab there. Any other time, George would have retaliated in kind, but not now. He was mentally drained. He glowered at Harry for it though, not missing the amused smirk on his lips and the sudden cough from Chris. He answered seriously though. This was what his situation with Isla had reduced him to. Asking his two idiotic friends for relationship advice. As if they knew better. He was hoping that perhaps just talking about it might give him insight on the way forward.
"I don't know. I have never met a woman as intimidating or mysterious. Google Isla Jackson, guys. She's one heck of a popular writer. She's obviously well off, I don't understand why she lives in that dilapidated building with us. You need to see her, Harry. She's so beautiful. Dark blue eyes, smooth oval face, her nose is so straight and narrow, her lips full and a light red. She hardly wears makeup. I've never seen her in revealing clothes to know her actual figure, but I'm sure she's hot."
He took a deep breath to steady himself; thoughts about Isla were enough to get him all bothered. His friends were staring at him with wide eyes and open mouths. He wished a fly could dive into them. Discreetly, he adjusted his pants - they suddenly felt tight - with the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette and continued. "That night I came in and saw her standing near the hole, I was struck by how beautiful she was. How could such a beautiful woman not be taken? And guys, she doesn't seem to really be into me, maybe my bald head--" Chris turned away, unable to hide the chuckle this time. "--turns her off," George finished with a sigh. Harry was still staring at him, wide-eyed.
Self-conscious and realizing that he may have talked a bit too much, George spat, "What?"
"Man..." Harry started, seemingly at a loss for words. He grabbed his glass from the table and refilled it with his choice of liquor, taking a big swig.
Chris draped a heavy hand around George's shoulders. "Our man here is officially smitten," he said excitedly.
George pushed the offending arm away.
"He's right you know. You are a man in love." Harry re-emphasized. "Perhaps she is the one you will finally get down on your knee for. Playboy George, finally gets a woman that keeps him hooked."
It was George's time to laugh, the mental image of Isla playing the submissive wife was just too damn funny. She seemed to be the feminist type, not that he minded. If only he could melt the invisible wall she seemed to have put in place since that night he had done a little striptease for her.
"What's your advice, guys?" He threw the cigarette butt into the ashtray and picked up the glass he had filled with cream liquor, gulping the delicious creaminess down.
"Man, you are the king of romance. Which of us is qualified to give you relationship advice? You got this man, take charge. Start afresh, woo her. As for why she may be living there, she might be in hiding. Just like you… like all of us. You just have to get close enough to her to know more."
George nodded in concordance to Harry's motivational speech. That's why he loved the guy. He knew when stuff was serious and quickly adapted to it. Chris, of course, wouldn't let Harry take the glory of giving their buddy advice alone. "Maybe you can cook one of those soups you cook so well. Invite her over and let her have a taste, I hear women love men that can cook. The fastest way to a woman's heart is through her... never mind."
George and Harry dissolved into laughter at the slip. Chris was visibly embarrassed and scowled at them. Like hell he would give George advice again. If he could laugh at advice, he could sort himself out. Son of a gun.
"Do you think she hated the striptease I performed for her that night? I realized that my armpit hairs were a bit overgrown when I took a shower this morning." George rasped out in between laughter. This time, Chris melted into the laughter too.
An hour later, George was back home and standing before Isla's door. He felt surprisingly... nervous. George couldn't remember the last time he felt that way for any woman -- Isla had to special. He had decided to take the bull by the horn, and try to make up with her. There were only two possibilities; either she accepted or rejected his peace offering. The later was gonna hurt. With a shake of his head, he pushed away the demoralizing thought and refocused on the task at hand.
Letting out the breath he didn't even know he had been holding, he raised his hand and knocked hoping against all hopes, that Isla would give him another chance. Would she?