As Bad as Each Other

Skye finished pulling the black lace top stocking slowly up her long, toned leg and clipped it carefully into place. The bottom layer of her outfit was finished, at least. She stood and checked herself in the full length mirror and smiled approvingly. Black panties with lace edging sat on her pert bottom, and the suspenders traced a delightful path to the stockings which she knew made her legs look amazing. The matching bra had a slightly maximising effect on her full breasts. She had always been proud of her breasts, believing that they made the rest of her body look fairly slim. She was by no means skinny, but if her breasts had been smaller she would have looked decidedly out of proportion. "Thank God for curves," she thought to herself as she adjusted her bra, creating a gorgeous deep cleavage to hide beneath the sexy-yet-casual outfit she had planned for tonight.

She leaned over the huge, perfectly made bed and retrieved the purple silk beaded dress. Skye laughed inwardly as she noted the label. Back home in Scotland, she was a definite size 14. Of course, the American sizes worked slightly differently, and her US equivalent was a 10. "Most people moan about losing sleep because of the flights...I'm just happy about dropping two dress sizes in 10 hours!" she remembered telling her flatmate and now best friend, Hannah, when she had first moved over. The dress was beautiful, and had been selected carefully from a vintage store to flow over her breasts softly, tapering out in a slightly 60s trend to a loose tunic style dress. The beaded neckline was cut in a steep V, and revealed the cleavage she had carefully positioned for the evening. She pulled it over her head and let it fall down into place. Perfect.

The plan too was perfect: a hotel retreat for two nights, arriving on Valentine's Eve and enjoying a romantic late night supper and drinks at the cosy hotel bar. Then, there would follow a night of passion with her delicious new lingerie playing a major role, and her skyscraper heels remaining firmly on her feet as she fucked him. The Sunday of Valentine's Day would involve lazing and luxuriating in the hotel's spa, and maybe even persuading him to participate in some of the more exciting outdoor sports the hotel offered in its huge lakeside surroundings.

Her phone beeped twice from her purple vintage bag, and held the answer she had requested earlier. She opened the text message. "Don't hold your breath, Skye. I'm not coming."

***

"Trust me J, forget about her,"

"Well that's a bit difficult considering she lived here, Sam,"

"I know, but come on...it's been three weeks, and you don't need this crap. Stay in tonight, have a couple of beers with us, and we'll get through tomorrow by bitching about females while the rich couples of major American cities fawn over each other in a show of romance tomorrow. Deal?"

"You're forgetting one major flaw. I requested the shift switch so that I could actually spend Valentine's with that - with her. I'm working tonight, and off tomorrow, probably wallowing in the fact that my girlfriend of two years 'forgot' about me and laid every guy who glanced at her for the last six months of our relationship,"

James checked himself in the mirror. What the hell was she playing at? He wasn't bad looking, and in spite of only taking the job at the hotel because of the opportunity to keep up his own interest in outdoor sports for free, he was doing pretty well for himself. He brushed down his black waistcoat, fiddled with his expensive tie, and grabbed the freshly pressed apron from the board. He attached the silver metal "Hospitality Manager" badge to the waistcoat, and headed out from the apartment, shouting a half-hearted goodbye to Sam as the door closed.

"He needs to get over his gentlemanly thing and get laid," Sam noted, as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.

***

Skye spent the next two hours in bed, looking at the phone, hoping that Michael would have a change of heart. It hadn't come. She couldn't get over his audacity.

When she had first arrived in New York, it had been with her career in mind -- and only her career. She had left school after a very successful set of exams and worked her way through law school at Glasgow University. By the time she was 22 she had graduated and was regarded as something of a high-flyer on her Diploma in Legal Practice. Skye had always loved travelling, and when she was 17 had visited New York for the first time. It had captivated her: everything about the place was like the best parts of her Glasgow experience, made larger and more spectacular in every way. And anyway, it had always been a dream of hers to live in London once (check), and New York once (perfect chance). For Skye, life in the big city was a world apart from her upbringing as the daughter of hotel owners. It was an amazing upbringing, every minute of which she loved, with the hotel nestled on the banks of a beautiful loch, and outdoor sports like windsurfing and climbing in her doorstep. Skye was untouchable when it came to these pursuits -- life outdoors gave her a thrill like no other, and she was expert in so many sports having been trained by the hotel's on-site instructors since she could walk. Still, when she went to uni, city life grabbed her by the wrist and whisked her into a pace of life that she had never imagined. New York was like the ultimate rush for her, and when the chance to practise there in a junior position presented itself, she leapt at it.

The move was entirely for the good of her career, and when Michael had first made his romantic advances, she had spurned them for almost a year.

"I wish I'd never bloody given in," she thought to herself, still staring at the phone. "Git."

When Michael had finally won her attention, and indeed, her affection, their relationship had been incredible. He was a partner, and at first she had refused him because she believed him to be abusing his position. She was something of a child protégé in New York, given that American students could only access law as a graduate course. Michael was probably just taken in by the idea of a 23 year old who was a couple of steps up on the career ladder. Eventually she realised that he would have probably given up long before if his feelings were false. In truth, Michael was quite good looking -- for an older guy -- and when she finally let him take her out, he treated her like a princess. She had kept her head for a few months, and then let her heart get the better of her. A year later, after letting him in to her life and falling head over heels in love with him, she was told cryptically that he had some news for her, and to meet him at the restaurant where they'd spent their first date. He had revealed that his new girlfriend probably wouldn't appreciate him seeing her any more.

It had been three weeks now, and Skye had been heartbroken throughout that time. Hannah had done her best to cheer her up, and the efforts had only just started to work. The first thing that came to mind when Skye remembered the Valentine's plan was to cancel, and Hannah had eventually persuaded her to go on the trip anyway.

"Han, there will be nothing worse than going to a hotel to be surrounded by other people who are madly in love,"

"There will: tell him about the outfit you had planned and watch him run to your arms. Fuck him senseless, and dump him on your terms. Amazing sex, closure and the upper hand in time for returning to work two days later? Perfect plan."

Skye had eventually agreed that it would be fun, and as she left for the hotel she had sent the text: it had contained a detailed list of her packing for the weekend, from the black lingerie to the toys she had bought, and she had spent the journey awaiting the response.

Now, she gave it another five minutes, and when no further text refuting the statement of the last appeared on her phone, she typed the familiar number and put the mobile to her ear.

"Hannah? He didn't come,"

"Oh babes..."

***

James wiped down the bar again and looked through the huge glass doors to the restaurant on his right. It was true -- everyone in the world was happily involved in a relationship. Except him. And Sam, but Sam was too young for that nonsense and was quite happy to float from one seasonal instructor to the next at the hotel. The core staff were accommodated in a purpose-built residential area a few minutes from the hotel. The seasonal staff were employed through a work abroad scheme, and Sam thoroughly enjoyed his position as the experienced bartender with the far bigger apartment to the full. James nearly bought Sam a map to identify the countries from which his many conquests had come, and of course the convenience offered by the girls only staying for two months at a time was Sam's ticket to living the bachelor life with benefits. James had never been interested in getting laid like Sam was: he had arrived at the hotel three years previously, far more concerned about the fact that he was still drifting in and out of dead end bar jobs, with no real career prospects. He eventually settled into work at the hotel, and had worked his way up slowly. His sights were set on becoming a duty manager, but of course, the small issue of becoming romantically involved with the owners' youngest daughter might have thrown a proverbial spanner in the works.

The owners thought the world of their darling Stephanie, and when she had first started dating James he had been wary: what if they thought he was only using her to improve his own standing at the hotel? However, fairly quickly after the relationship had begun, her father had called him to the office and explained to him that he didn't see things that way. As far as he was concerned, James was to be judged on his own merits and not the fact that he was involved with the family on more personal terms. In fact, when the promotions had come up, James was occasionally overlooked. Eventually, he had won the coveted bar manager position, then became the hospitality manager, and the duty manager was his only superior.

Three weeks ago, Stephanie had turned his world upside down, explaining that he had been too focused on work lately and claimed she had felt neglected and lonely.

"Yeah. Very lonely, with four blokes apart from me looking after her at various times, I'm sure," he had told Sam, when recounting the split.

James had been devastated and had taken a couple of sick days to escape the hotel altogether, if only to get away from the apartment he shared with Sam. Stephanie had basically been living with them in spite of her large rooms at the family home close to the residential block, and James had been finding it difficult to escape the idea of her. The only positive point that had come from the split was that her father had cornered James shortly afterwards, and explained that once again, James was judged on his merits, and those merits were outstanding. He had practically begged him not to leave because of the discrepancies of his daughter.

It didn't make tonight any easier. The couples drifted in and out of the restaurant, and James kept himself busy with cash lifts and making sure his team were dealing with the barrage of checks. He made a few trips to the cellar to keep up with the demand on champagne, and felt grateful that tomorrow he could get out on the lake and escape this show of romance.

***

"Get that dress on, go downstairs, and enjoy yourself Skye," was Hannah's advice.

She did exactly that. Readjusting her hair, pulling the dress down to its correct position showing her cleavage and slipping into the beautiful new shoes, Skye looked as ravishing as she had done so nearly two hours previously. Her heart was in bits, but she had moped for long enough, and as Hannah said, it was a risk she had factored in before leaving. The grieving process was well and truly over, and she was ready to face the world again as a single woman in a very coupley hotel. She checked the hotel guide and saw that the bar was a separate entity from the restaurant, which would be full of happy couples. "Just avoid them, and get drunk," she decided.

With a fresh slick of lipgloss, she left the room, and slipped her keycard into the vintage handbag.

***

"A gin and tonic and a shot of tequila, please,"

James looked up from the till, surprised to hear the unfamiliar Scottish voice at the deserted bar. The staff usually dashed in with a cry of "check on!" before leaving as swiftly as they had arrived.

"Is it that bad?"

"Yeah, and I'm sorry to say it's only going to get worse. Best make that gin a double -- I got dumped, and now I'm getting wasted,"

James smiled and reconsidered his luck. She was gorgeous: long brown hair that was naturally wavy, and a pale face which held beautifully soft brown eyes and slightly glossed light red lips. Her arms were toned and she was so tall, although James couldn't see if she was wearing heels. The dress was a deep purple, and obviously vintage, and it revealed a cleavage that James had spotted only late in his tour of her body. He poured the drinks, and set them down on the bar in front of her. God, she wasn't only gorgeous. She was stunning.

"You know, I understand where you're coming from. I got my marching orders three weeks ago because my other half couldn't keep herself to herself. I'm James," He surprised himself with how open he was being with her, but he had felt an urge to break the ice with this gorgeous girl.

"Skye," she had replied. "God, we're as bad as each other. Are you sure you don't want a gin yourself?"

She was so easy to talk to, and over the course of another two gins he took every spare moment he had to come and speak to her as she sat alone at the bar. They shared tiny snippets of information about their previous loves, and made their fair share of cutting remarks about one another's gender.

He headed off to go to the cellar and on his return, ensured he entered via the far door of the bar. As he approached her from behind he took in her long, slim legs, and spotted the hint of lace at the top of what must have been stockings. A rush of desire coursed through him and he stopped to compose himself. She was tall, and perfectly proportioned: not a stick insect like most of the women who had come here this weekend with their rich husbands. She looked sporty, though, because every inch of those legs and the arms he had spotted earlier were muscular without being chunky. As he rounded the end of the bar he spotted her front view again, and saw her fingers circling the empty glass. She was lost in thought. "Hey," he whispered to her as he drew level with her drooped head. He saw the single tear roll down her flushed cheek and drip slowly onto the bar. "You know, he probably isn't worth it, you know." Placing down the new case of champagne, he walked round to the customer side of the bar and held her in a tentative embrace.

***

Skye glared angrily at herself in the mirror. "I can't let him get to me," she told herself, unconvinced. "James is right, he isn't worth it. And anyway, I had to convince myself to like him in the first place, let alone fall for him," Her efforts to maintain her composure at the bar had melted away after the succession of gins. More worryingly, though, they were broken down by James. It was those eyes -- he had the most gorgeous big brown eyes that just seemed to look at her and find her soul exposed. She felt like he was looking into her, and she wasn't sure if it was just the gin, but she found herself responding to it and telling him more than she had ever revealed about her relationship with Michael and the way she felt so undermined by his treatment of her. James, too, had been open about his relationship with Stephanie, and they had found more than a few points in common about their time together as well as their acrimonious splits. He was just so stunning though, and she couldn't get her mind off the tall, gorgeous barman who had made her feel like she wasn't a complete freak tonight. A toilet trip had helped her to compose herself for a moment, but she still found herself thinking of that hug. His arms felt so protective, and she just fitted perfectly into his shape. Her head could rest lightly on his broad shoulder, and she could feel the loose curls of dark brown hair stroke her cheek and forehead as she nuzzled into the cleft of his neck.

She adjusted her stockings, and as she leaned forward on the broad marble panelling surrounding the sinks, she imagined him coming into the bathroom, and wrapping his muscular arms around her, kissing the back of her neck and pleading to reveal her body in the delicately sexy lingerie. He would flick her skirt up at the back, and discover the secrets of her body. Releasing his hard cock from his trousers, he would quickly fuck her from behind until she came, forgetting all traces of the frankly mediocre lover she had intended this weekend for.

But it wasn't going to happen -- James was three weeks out of a relationship, and a serious one at that, and he was far too gentlemanly to have a Valentine's fling with a jilted lawyer who had thought she was attractive enough to tempt her ex back, just so that she could get one up on him. "I think I need another gin," she sighed, and with a brave deep breath she walked with faux confidence back to the bar.

***

He had continued to serve her gin and tonic, and listening attentively to Skye's gorgeous Scottish voice. In spite of the barrage of orders at the bar, he was enjoying her company, and at times he had to stop himself from acknowledging how everything about her was better than Stephanie. Her beauty, to begin with, was above and beyond any other girl he had seen, let alone dated. And the best part of her beauty was that she seemed to have no clue just how gorgeous she was. Sure, she had clearly made the effort for this Michael character who had dumped her, but even underneath the light makeup and fancy dress he could see that every inch of her body was perfect. The way she laughed off compliments, and held herself so gracefully in spite of what she was going through, amazed him. He even laughed when he considered that as she drank more gin, her Scottish accent became slightly more pronounced, and when he pointed this out to him she giggled and spoke in such a broad accent he could hardly understand her.

But what would a gorgeous 25 year old lawyer who had just split up with a senior partner ever see in a 28 year old barman who appeared to be on the rebound? He wasn't a rebound type of guy, but he realised in that moment that he had never wanted anyone so much in his life.

"I think I'm a bit drunk," she lilted to him from further down the bar. "I don't know if I can stand up in these bloody shoes!" He came around to her side of the bar and took her hand.

"Madame?" he bowed to her, and she smiled. "It is 1am though, and you have been on the gin for four hours - people might think you were drowning your sorrows or something," he joked.

"I was, but a handsome barman helped me recover and now I'm just a little bit tipsy," Skye slipped down from the high barstool and wrapped her arm round his neck as she supported herself on her teetering heels . She pulled him closer and whispered in his ear, "and horny." The restaurant had emptied and James had quickly tidied up over the course of the last hour. He was suddenly grateful for his disciplined approach to cleaning as he went. He now left the last of the hard work to the three staff working the late shift. For now, his attention was focused on the newly confident gin-tipsy Skye.

"Come on then, let's get you to your room," Skye handed over the plastic keycard and said "I'm in room..."

"12, I know. I've been charging drinks to it all night Skye!"

"Oh yeah! Oh," and with a sigh, she slumped to the nearest chair. James was quick to catch her and she tipped her head back, laughing softly, as he let her rest gently in the soft armchair.