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Quite the gentlemen

Summary:

After moving to London for the job, Josephine does not know what is heading her way. This new part of her life starts out as predictable as it could. Move to the big city, live with some flatmates to make the rent and deal with new coworkers. So, after settling into her life, one day she walks into a pub. Some good-looking guy walks in. When she glances to his table, she doesn’t anticipate a guy aiming a gun at his head. Even less so, what would follow.

Notes:

Starting of with some short chapters, getting to know the main characters.

Tags will be added, as story goes on.

Chapter 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Well, that was a shit waste of a day.” are the first thoughts circulating in my tiered mind. 


I have just ordered a Guinness and allowing myself to let my mind run free after this day of work. Why can’t he just pull his weight? Brian is a coworker in my department in the company and I am supposed to shadow him for the first two weeks of being there. Bringing me up to speed of how things are done on this side of the channel. Yet that is just not possible, if he cannot get done, what I’m supposed to do on my own these next months… 


The ramblings go on and on, having only had a few sips of my pint yet. The whole day, I had shut off that part of my brain to make the “on-boarding” part of the job as productive as possible. This should really be a two-people-job, but thanks to financial cuts it will be me by myself for now.
So after being annoyed at Brian, as he rambled on about not wanting do the extra work of bringing in a new employee (who is supposed to make his job easier by the way thank you!), interjects with not so subtle sexist insinuations (just subtle enough, so it could not be reported to hr; our department by the way) and starring me down every time I dare to ask a question or make a suggestion to possible alternatives, I tried my best to be cooperative.


I like to say, that I am pretty agreeable and friendly with coworkers from the get go. But Brian seems to be the antithesis of someone anyone would like to work with.
So, after growing more and more annoyed after the first half hour of my shadowing him, I denied myself the satisfaction to mentally shit-talking him. Otherwise, I would not have gotten through that day. 


Also, London being London, I got two flatmates to live with now. So not wanting to be the grumpy one from the start and desperately needing some peace far outweighed the daunting prospect of drinking alone in public. None the less in a city, I do not know. I had questioned the idea from the start, but I had already exhausted my rational thinking tether by dealing with a new team, new job and a prick called Brian all day. The only saving grace in that decision is, that the pub is like a few minutes from my new flat.
So, now my usually awkward self is sitting alone in a pub in London. Just the first evening everyone wishes for. 
If I had not switched off my brain the moment, I left the company building and walked on aimlessly, I might have noticed the neighbourhood of the pub. Or maybe the shifty looking guys in front of it. But no, here I am. A twenty-five-year-old woman sitting alone in the booth of a shabby, worn-down pub. Paying my surroundings little to no mind, I get quite startled by an unexpectedly deep voice addressing my all of a sudden.

“Hey, your quite sure about this?” Having no memory of striking up a conversation previously, my head shoots up. Too quick, I can feel burst of pain in my neck. Fantastic! Damn, that was unnecessary. My view focusses on something in front of me after a second. Before my table stands a stocky man with wide-rimmed glasses and a full dark beard. From the soft t’s of his, I’d guess he’s Irish. “You know, drinking at this time of day all alone in this part of town?” 
After letting my eyes glance around the room, I am quite perplexed by such considerate words. The pub did not look as inviting, as I had thought at first. Apparently, I had given less of a fuck, than I thought before. The shabby well-worn interior, seems dingier than anything at a closer look. So, considering the environment, as well as his words, I surveyed him for a second time. He is wearing a flat-cap and a checkered track-suit. Presumably in his mid-forties. 
After regarding my admittedly blank glance, he goes on, a bit of concern lacing his voice. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yeah, I just needed some quiet and solitude.,” I answer him. I am trying to seem more self-assured and in control, then I am at the moment. My first urge is to feel a bit patronised, no wonder after spending my day with that piece of work. Of course I’m alright! Yet after catching the surprisingly low level of my pint, I reconsider. Snapping out of it, thinking consciously about the situation. This is no annoying coworker, who throws misogynistic phrases around, but a decent looking guy being honestly concerned about a stranger’s well-being. 
“Well maybe, you should seek that elsewhere. This is not the best part of the city, if you want some peace and quiet. It’s not either, if you want to stay longer and then want to go home comfortably.”
Again, the two parts of my mind answered his considerations mentally.
Well, that’s patronising. I’m an independent strong woman, I can take care of myself.
He’s got a point. I’m not even sure, where I am exactly and it’s growing late already.

Will I get back to the flat before dark? I am not a scaredy cat per se, yet I am aware of my lack of familiarity with the city and its districts.
Before the rational part of my brain could take over, I answer him already. “Well actually, it’s the kind of pub, I had been looking for.” Not really, but he does not need to know that. The other part caches up after all. “At least, I won’t run into any of my colleagues here.” He seemed annoyed, no wait, more resigned at the stubborn response, a bit of pity shining in his gaze. Not wanting to seem entirely unpolite, I feel the need of striking up a short conversation of myself with him. He had only wanted to help me after all. 
“Don’t you get that sometimes?” “No, not really. Don’t really have a bunch of coworkers.” “But you do work with other people?” “In a way, yeah” Now I get curious at his evasive answers. “So, what do you do?” “I work with some lads, try to give them some guidance.” “So, you’re a social worker?” “Nah, not in that way. I’m their coach.”  


“You run a gym?” I perk up at that. “Yes, something wrong with that?” He seems a bit agitated with my incessant questions. So, I try to set him at ease. “No, not at all. Really, I’m still looking for a gym here. What are your policies?” He looks a bit stunned. “It’s nothing fancy you know. I really just train them in boxing, like.” Not being aware enough at that moment, I do not consider, that he might not want random people to join. My slight buzz also encourages my enthusiasm. “That’s great! I wanted to take up boxing before moving here, I never had the opportunities before. Wait, you said you train guys. This is not a men-only gym, right?” Mistakenly thinking, that that was where his train of thought came from. “No, that’s not it. I train some girls too. But are you quite sure?” 
After sensing, that my enthusiasm was not tempered, he reaches for one the napkins on the table between us and pen from his pocket. He writes down the address of the gym and hands it to me. 


“Well alright, come by soon and you can try it. It’s open Tuesdays to Saturdays, from five to eight pm.” After thanking him he turns away, but halts for a second. “I was quite serious though; you should probably start out home. See ya soon.” After a nod to me, he walks back to his table. Choosing to take his advice and not wanting to make my flatmates wait up for me, I empty the last of the stout and start out the booth. As I walk to the door, I sense the slight change in my gait. Shit, I forgot not having much to eat in the hurry, that was today. Maybe I should heed his advice after all.

Notes:

Updates will come semi-regularly, depending on the work load.