Wicked Bartender PG-13 Version

by KuroKoneko Kamen

  Chapter 4: Scarlet O’Hara

  Dante entered Dullahan’s Irish Pub. There were no customers. A bartender, who was currently playing around on his laptop while using facebook, was standing behind the bar. The bartender was a tall, tan, muscular man with a buzz cut, who was wearing a muscle shirt to show off his bulging biceps. He was covered in tattoos. Dante didn’t know much about the human society of this era, but he had the feeling that his young man was of a lower class than most. He looks like a scoundrel.

  A slightly overweight looking waitress was texting on her smart phone when she looked up and spotted Dante as he entered. Her eyes seemed to rake over him, and turn into dollar signs. She was wearing a dark green tank top that was too small for her since her breasts were practically spilling out of the front of her shirt, and a mini skirt that was much too small for her body weight (in Dante’s not-so humble opinion). She was also covered in tattoos.

  There was also a shorthaired waitress nearby wiping down tables diligently. She also looked oddly familiar. That bob of brown hair. Her tall, sleek physique. She was wearing skinny jeans, a dark green tank top that said Dullahan’s on it in white letters, and a pair of knee boots with three-inch heels. She has nice legs. Dante blinked, surprised at his own thoughts.

  Abruptly, the other waitress, Jenny, was standing in front of Dante and blocking his view of the waitress with the nice legs in a rather annoying manner.

  “Hey, hun, can I get you a table?” Jenny asked as she leaned over slightly to show off her cleavage to Dante.

  “I’m here to speak to your manager about the bartending position that is available.” Dante explained gruffly and crossed his arms over his broad chest in a subconscious gesture to distance himself from this aggressive female.

  Jenny’s confident expression faltered before it immediately brightened again. Suddenly curious about what the young woman could be thinking Dante decided to use the small burst of power he’d harvested from Shay, who he’d scared earlier, in order to read the woman’s mind.

  The wheels were turning in her surprisingly calculating mind. Oh, he’s not a customer. Darn it, I won’t be getting any tips. He looks like a big spender too. But then again he wants to work here and he looks loaded. I could dump Franky’s butt, seduce this hunk, and make him mine. But he wants to see our pathetic boss first.

  Dante heard her every nasty thought. The demon frowned. He decided to read everyone’s mind this time around to give him an edge during the interview and to see what the hell he’d been doing wrong.

  “Ah, you’ll want to speak to our boss, Alan Dullahan. We don’t have a manager here anymore. ALAN! GET OUT HERE!” Jenny yelled out while not taking her eyes off of Dante. There was a sly smirk on her face as if Dante would be impressed by her loud and obnoxious vocal chords. The demon was not.

  Dante sighed. Human females.

  “C-Coming!” Alan’s voice came from the back of the establishment. Alan emerged from his office and made his way into the main restaurant area. He spotted Dante, and looked him over. His expression revealed that he was impressed but also a little wary. He’s dressed nice. He’s handsome too. I wonder why he’s here? Oh crap! Is he a bill collector! Alan began to inwardly panic.

  Dante chuckled softly to himself. This young man intrigued him. He appeared to be in his early twenties and yet was the owner of this establishment. Alan had shaggy, blonde hair that was covering the left side of his face, bright blue eyes, and extremely pale skin. He was wearing a dark green and white striped sweater, a pair of tight, black jeans, and sneakers. Dante strode forward towards the young man. “Greetings.” He put out his hand. “I’m Dante Cromwell. I saw your ‘Help Wanted’ sign outside. I’m interested in the bartending position. I’m not a bill collector.”

  Alan blinked at Dante and laughed. “Oh, thank God! Phew!” He let out a breath of relief and wiped some imaginary sweat from his brow with the back of his head. Alan offered Dante a warm smile before shaking his hand next. “I’m the owner of a this pub, Alan Dullahan.” He let Dante’s hand go. “If you’ll accompany me to my office I’ll interview you there?”

  Dante nodded. “Certainly.”

  Alan began to lead the way to his office. However, the shorthaired waitress from before suddenly stood in his way, hands on her hips, and a fierce look in her…pale green eyes.

  Dante froze. Those eyes.

  “You!” Joan began as she jabbed her finger into Dante’s rock hard chest. “What the heck are you doing here?” She demanded.

  Dante blinked at the feisty waitress and arched an eyebrow at her. “I’m here for a job interview, Miss…?”

  Joan gawked at him as if she couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. “A job interview?” Her eyes narrowed at him in obvious suspicion.

  Alan had turned back around and was looking at the exchange curiously. “Is there a problem Joan? Do you know him?”

  “Do I know him? I…!” Joan struggled to form words. “You can’t hire him, Alan! He’s a-!” She bit her lower lip in order to cut herself off and looked at a loss of what she should say.

  Dante’s eyebrow rose even higher. I’m a what? And her name is Joan…and she has the same green eyes. God is probably doing this to torture me. What an awful coincidence, though nothing more. My Jeanne is dead.

  “Yes?” Alan pressed and was looking slightly amused. “He’s a what Joan?”

  Joan huffed and gave Dante a conflicted look. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  Alan shrugged, still smiling, and continued on his way.

  Joan grabbed Dante’s shoulder as he passed her by. “I’m keeping my eyes on you. If you hurt him…” She trailed off in a deadly tone.

  Dante’s golden eyes flickered with surprise. Had this young woman just threatened him? “Why would I hurt him?” His voice was low, gruff.

  “Because he’s a good person.” Joan huffed as if it were obvious.

  A good person aye? A smile curled Dante’s lips. “Do not worry Miss. I will not harm your boss.” That said Dante strolled off after Alan.

  Alan ushered Dante into his office and offered him a seat with a wave of his hand. Alan took a seat behind his desk while Dante sat down in the worn, leather armchair that sat in front of a very messy desk. There on the desk were stacks of paper that looked like they were about to fall over, and stacks of books that looked equally precariously placed. Dante looked around at the bookshelves and saw that they were stuffed full with books. There were so many books that they didn’t all fit in the bookshelves and so had ended up in piles on the floor. The sight caused Dante’s lip to twitch. It reminded him of a human friend he’d had centuries ago who’d been a philosopher. Solomon…

  Alan took out a list of questions that Joan had helped him to come up with for the interview. He cleared his throat and began. Dante had already handed Alan a copy of his resume and he had it sitting in front of him. “Tell me about yourself.” Alan started.

  “I…am extremely capable in whatever I set out to do whether it’s winning a battle or…making a drink to absolute perfection.” There was a twinkle in Dante’s golden eyes as he thought about mixing drinks.

  He’s confident. That’s nice. I wish I had his kind of confidence. Alan mentally pouted. “You won a lot of battles overseas?” He asked curiously.

  Dante nodded. “Yes.”

  Alan smiled. “Impressive.” I wish I were stronger. I could never hope to beat someone up. I was always the one getting beat up in high school. Actually they still beat me up in college too. I’m such a nerd. Alan shook his head from the dark memories. “Do you have experience with customer service? If so, in what capacity?”

  Dante shook his head. “Not much…but I’m sure I will learn quickly.”

  He’s honest. Alan nodded in approval. “Whatever you need to know I can teach you. I’m pretty good at dealing with people. Well, except for when I’m feeling shy.” Alan laughed in a self-deprecating manner. “Do you drink oft
en?”

  “Not as a pastime really, but when I’m researching new possible drink combinations - yes.” Dante explained as he raked a hand back through his wavy black hair.

  “Cool. It’d be awesome if you could come up with some new drinks for our drink menu. I’ll skip the next question since I trust in your abilities.” Alan’s blue eyes scanned down the list of interview questions. “Do you believe the customer is always right?”

  “No, of course not.” The demon quickly responded.

  “Bzzt.” Alan made the sound of a buzzer going off, “Wrong answer. In retail and the public service industry - the customer is always right. For example, let’s say your customer orders a Rum Punch. They taste it and say they don’t like it. What would you do?”

  Dante blinked, brow furrowed. “I would tell them they had defective taste buds?”

  Alan broke out laughing at that and it took several minutes until he was able to get himself under control. He gripped his sides and took deep breaths. “Funny, but no…you would ask what they didn’t like about it and try to change the drink to suit their tastes. For example, replacing the white rum for a darker rum. Some women prefer a less strong rum in their drinks…and of course you would only charge them for the drink they consumed and not the one you were forced to throw away.”

  A scowl formed on Dante’s face. “But that’s…illogical. Won’t you lose money?”

  Alan shrugged. “Not in the long run. The woman will be a happy customer and so when she leaves she’ll come back and maybe even bring her friends or recommend our bar to other people. She’ll probably also leave a big tip. Good customer service always pays off in the end. Now, if you’d refused to make her a new drink and charged her for the lousy drink, she would have left as a disappointed customer and would have told all her friends not to come here. You see?” Alan gave Dante an expectant look.

  Dante stroked the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “I see. I understand. That actually makes sense.”

  Alan let out a sad little sigh. “Unfortunately, we have a lot of work to do. Ever since my older brother died and I took over the pub the reputation of this place has gone down hill. And it’s all my fault.” A frown tipped Alan’s lips downwards before he shook his head. “Anyways, how long have you been mixing drinks?”

  Ah, so he inherited the pub from his brother. “I learned how to mix drinks a few days ago, but I’ve already memorized over two hundred recipes.”

  Alan whistled. “Impressive.”

  Dante looked at Alan quizzically. All the other managers had looked at him suspiciously and hadn’t believed him, but Alan…trusted him. Perhaps, the young man was too trusting.

  “Are you like one of those people who after they read something they never forget it? Like you have a photographic memory or something?” Alan asked and leaned over his desk intently.

  Dante nodded. “Indeed.”

  Alan’s gaze lowered back down to the list. “Have you ever experienced conflict with a coworker? If so, how did you handle it?”

  “Yes…I…took care of it in a gentlemanly fashion.” Dante replied evasively. This particular interview question always got him into trouble.

  Alan gave Dante a sharp look. “I know you were in the military and maybe overseas you were able to settle disputes differently…physically. But…you’re not in a war zone right now, Dante. This is just a peaceful Irish pub. Or at least that’s what I want it to be, so all disputes must be settled nonviolently. Understand?”

  “Nonviolently?” Dante echoed. This would indeed be a challenge for Dante but he needed to get a job. Finally, he nodded once. “As you wish.”

  Alan let out a breath of relief and gave Dante a somewhat apologetic look. “Phew, I know you’re tough, but it’s always better to settle disagreements with words first. Try and outsmart your opponent. This should always be your default. If you can settle a dispute without having to come to blows that is true strength.”

  True strength huh? Dante arched an eyebrow at the pub owner.

  “But if you have absolutely no choice - force can be used. If it’s the right kind of situation, you know.” Alan gave Dante an expectant look.

  Dante’s brow furrowed though because he had no idea what kind of situation Alan would think it was appropriate to use force. “During what kind of situation is it okay to use force, Alan?”

  “Oh…like saving a girl in distress. For example, if a customer touches Joan inappropriately I’d give you permission to remove the man from the premises.” Alan made sure to watch Dante’s response to what he had said closely.

  Dante’s hands clenched unconsciously into fists at the thought of anyone touching that feisty, green-eyed girl in a way she did not wish. “A customer would dare to do such a thing?”

  Alan snorted at Dante’s seriousness. “Hey, don’t look so worried. It’s not a common occurrence. But yes, unfortunately there are some guys out there who might try something. That’s why I didn’t mind agreeing to Joan’s request not to wear a skirt.”

  Dante blinked. “Joan refused to wear woman’s clothing?” That’s so similar to my Jeanne.

  Alan nodded. “She’s a feminist, apparently. But she’s smart, and hardworking. I know she’ll do great.”

  “Feminist.” Dante echoed thoughtfully.

  Alan gave Dante a knowing look. “What do you think you can bring to this pub?”

  “The man who will become the greatest bartender in New York City.” Dante stated with a serious glint in his eyes. “And later the entire world.”

  Alan grinned broadly in response to Dante’s confident declaration. “It’s good for a man to have a dream. It gives him direction. What are your strengths and weaknesses?”

  “I’m extremely intelligent, hardworking, handsome, physically fit, skilled.” Again, Dante decided to humbly cut back on the list of his good points. “I have no weaknesses.”

  Alan gave Dante an admiring look. He wanted to be more like Dante - tough, powerful, confidant. Alan was sure that Dante was popular with the ladies! Alan had never even had a girlfriend before. Though he’d had his fair share of unrequited loves. He felt slightly jealous of the man in front of him. “Everyone has a weakness.” Alan mumbled to himself as he unconsciously put his hand over his heart. “I wish I was more like you though and had your confidence. I have a lot of weaknesses. But that’s why it would be great having someone as capable as you by my side, Dante. I would be honored if you would work here…with me.”

  Dante gave Alan an astonished look. “Really? I’m hired?”

  Alan nodded with a big grin on his face. “Yep. Let’s go have some drinks to celebrate. You can show me your skills.”

  “Alright, Boss.” Dante agreed readily. It should have bothered Dante to call a lowly human ‘boss’ but for some reason it did not.

  The two men left the office together, and as they opened the door it ended up hitting Joan right in the nose. Apparently, she’d been listening right outside the door. “Ow!” Joan put a hand to her now reddening nose. Teary-eyed, she glared at Dante accusingly as if the accident had been his fault.

  Dante gave the female an amused look. “Didn’t you know that eavesdropping is considered to be rather rude?”

  Joan’s cheeks became tinged with pink. Dante couldn’t help but note that it made her appear more feminine.

  Alan laughed amiably. “Joan’s probably curious about whether or not I decided to hire you. Well, the answer is ‘yes’, Joan. I decided to hire Dante.”

  Joan’s expression turned horrified. “You did! No way, how could you hire that - that man? Argh!” She threw her hands up into the air in an exasperated gesture as if she couldn’t believe what was happening.

  Alan gave Joan a curious look. “What’s wrong, Joan?” He sounded more amused than worried though.

  “Nothing. Hmph!” Joan huffed, crossing her arms beneath her chest.

  The two men made their way past Joan and continued over to the
bar. Alan showed Dante how a section of the bar lifted up so that Dante could get behind it. “The counter-top door is right here. Go for it, Dante.” Alan said as he held up the door. “Make us all some…” He trailed off as he thought about it for a moment. “Do you know how to make a Scarlet O’Hara Cocktail?”

  Dante nodded. “Yes.”

  “Joan, Jenny, come take a seat at the bar and join us.” Alan called the two waitresses over.

  Franky was still standing behind the bar, and he’d closed his laptop. He was curious to see how this other bartender mixed drinks.

  Dante made his way behind the bar and reviewed the drink recipe in his mind. Two ounces Southern Comfort, a dash of lime juice, cranberry juice, and a lime wedge for a garnish.

  Dante turned around to look at the series of glass shelves that lined the wall behind the bar. The lower shelves were filled with different types of glasses, and the upper shelves held various bottles of liquor that came in all shapes, sizes and colors. He began to search for the liquor called ‘Southern Comfort’, but since he’d never seen the bottle before he didn’t know what he was looking for and a few minutes ticked by.

  “Pfft.” Franky snorted as he reached out and tapped the bottle. “It’s right here, idiot.”

  Dante looked at the bottle of pinkish-red liquor and noted the name ‘Southern Comfort’ on its label. The label had a tiny drawing of a ranch house in the middle of a Mississippi plantation. “Ah, thank you,” Dante took the bottle down. Now I have to pour the Southern Comfort into a ‘highball glass’. What exactly is a ‘highball glass’ though? Dante looked over at all of the different kinds of drink glasses next with a small, thoughtful frown on his handsome face. Centuries ago we had small glasses and big glasses…now the humans have a name for everything apparently.

  “Now what are you looking for?” Franky grumbled, sounding impatient.

  “Er…the highball glasses?” Dante questioned, not liking the way this Franky character was suddenly talking down to him. Do not kill him. Do not kill him. The demon chanted in his mind and he kept his emotions in check. He’d already let several of Franky’s tactless comments slide thus far and Dante wondered how much more he could be tested before he simply sliced Franky’s head off with a fork.

  Franky reached out and touched the tall glasses also known as a Collin’s glass. “Right here, buddy, are you blind?”

  Dante shook his head and ignored yet another careless insult tossed his way. “No.” The demon quickly filled four glasses with ice and poured the SoCo into them. Next, he needed to add some Ocean Spray Cranberry juice. Dante looked at the shelves of liquor behind him and frowned as he searched futilely for the juice.

  “Keh, I’m not helping you again.” Franky groused. “Idiot.”

  A muscle beneath Dante’s eye ticked in irritation and again the demon found himself reining in his temper.

  Joan sucked in a nervous breath when she heard Franky call Dante an idiot. Frankly, she was surprised the bartender was still alive. Franky’s going to get himself killed at this rate. I’d better help Dante before he snaps and decapitates him. “What are you looking for?” Joan leaned over the bar counter and spoke to Dante.

  “Ocean Spray Cranberry juice.” The demon drawled.

  “Ah, shouldn’t that be in the cooler?” Joan said as she tapped her index finger on the cooler.

  Dante opened the cooler and was able to find the juice easily because of Joan. “Thank you.” The demon said and met Joan’s pretty green eyes.

  Joan blushed and looked away. “No problem.” Crisis averted. For now.

  After Dante added the cranberry juice to the glasses he added a dash of lime juice, and lastly garnished the drinks with a lime wedge. He managed to finish the drinks with no further problems, and set them down in front of everyone.

  “Pfft.” Franky started laughing at Dante. “What are you, retarded? Or I guess that’s politically incorrect these days. I believe the term is ‘mentally challenged’. You have got to be the slowest bartender I know!”

  Dante briefly wondered how mad Alan would get if he just picked Franky up and tossed him through the front window.

  Alan was watching Dante with interest though. “I wonder about that. Dante make us four more.”

  “Yes Sir.” Dante readily agreed and quickly prepared four more Scarlet O’Haras. Now that he knew where the ingredients and glasses to use were he made the four drinks in mere seconds before setting them down in front of everyone.

  Alan gave Franky a challenging look. “You were saying?”

  Franky sputtered in outrage. “What the hell? Beginners luck. Have him make something else.”

  “Don’t swear.” Joan chided Franky automatically.

  Alan shook his head. “Dante, I know you told me you’ve memorized over two hundred drink recipes but…this is your first time actually mixing those drinks, isn’t it?”

  All eyes turned to Dante, who nodded. “Yes.”

  Franky gawked, Jenny’s jaw dropped, and Joan blinked. Franky pointed a trembling finger at Dante. “You can’t be serious about hiring this guy, Boss! He obviously doesn’t even know what the hell he’s doing. He’s a…fraud!”

  Alan just smiled at Franky. “Oh, he might not know what he’s doing now, but he will. Dante has a photographic memory. Once you show Dante something he won’t ever forget it. That’s why I want you to go over all the different types of liquor and glasses we have in the bar with Dante. I’m sure that by tomorrow Dante will be mixing drinks as quickly as you, Franky.”

  “You can’t be serious?” Franky gave Alan an incredulous look. “You want me to show this idiot what everything is? He didn’t even know what SoCo is! Where’s this guy been living? Under a rock? I won’t do it!”

  Dante couldn’t help but feel insulted. He knew what several liquors and spirits were - those had had existed centuries ago such as wine, rum, and the like. The only liquors and beverages Dante didn’t know were the ones the humans had recently come up with and that had strange names like ‘Red Bull’ and ‘SoCo’.

  “You will do it.” Alan shot back, raising his voice, and surprising everyone including himself. “I’m your boss, Franky…don’t forget. And I want you to teach my new employee the things I told you to. Dante has been overseas fighting against terrorism, so I want you to cut him some slack. Got it?” Alan finished firmly, though Joan noticed that Alan was clenching his hands together on his lap to hide their shaking. Alan had never stood up against Franky before! Even Joan was impressed.

  Franky turned to give Dante a wary look. “You were in the military?”

  Dante nodded.

  “Oh, like in the army? What were you…a soldier?” Franky sneered.

  “An officer.” The demon countered. Actually, a commander of thirty-six demonic legions but…as the humans would say, whatever.

  The blood drained from Franky’s face, and he suddenly looked guilty and fearful. Franky realized he had no choice but to show Dante the ropes. He would only show Dante things once though and if the man forgot then that was his problem, not Franky’s.

  ***

  It was Joan’s first day at work at Dullahan’s Irish Pub. Alan had given her a dark green tank top to wear that had the pub’s name: ‘Dullahan’s Irish Pub’ on it in swirly white letters. She had paired this off with a pair of skinny jeans and her Nine West knee boots.

  She’d arrived at eight o’clock that morning. Jenny was supposed to train Joan while there were no customers around, and so the waitress had reluctantly shown Joan how to work the register. Jenny then advised Joan that she should memorize the menu, and make up her own abbreviations for certain food items so that she would be able to quickly write down her orders on her notepad.

  Joan was a fast learner, and her training hadn’t taken very long. Jenny seemed happy with the downtime that she usually used to text people on her smart phone, or to join her boyfriend at the bar so that they could make out. The bartender, Frank
y, spent most of his free time on his laptop playing around on facebook, and when he was sure no one was watching getting on porn sites while keeping the volume muted.

  Joan rolled her eyes at the slightly sleazy couple. Those two may have been okay with being idle, but Joan wasn’t. She wasn’t lazy. She was there to work. Joan walked around the pub and inspected the tables. She noticed they were pretty dusty, tsked, and began to wipe down all of the tables until they gleamed.

  The bell above the front door jingled and Joan turned around to see the customer that had arrived. Time seemed to slow down for Joan as she watched the tall, handsome man in an Armani suit enter the pub. That wavy, black hair. Those achingly familiar, sharp, golden eyes…

  Joan had to bite down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying out: ‘Dantalion?!’ A series of conflicting emotions washed through her: shock, wonder, trepidation, and fear. Is the demon Dantalion truly standing before me? If so, why does he look so…human? Why is he dressed in a suit and looking like a businessman? Why hasn’t he attacked me yet…? Several questions bombarded her mind.

  What the hell was he doing there? What did he want? Was he there to kill her? She wondered. They were mortal enemies after all.

  Oh crap…crap…crap…Joan was inwardly panicking as she watched Dante speaking with Jenny. Jenny was blatantly flirting with Dantalion, though he seemed to be ignoring her advances. Heh. That pleased Joan for some reason. Dantalion began to ask Jenny to see the manager about the bartender position that was available.

  Joan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at Dantalion. Who was he kidding? He wanted to be interviewed for the position as bartender? Yea, right! He was probably there to kill them all…but she wouldn’t allow it!

  Joan watched as her too-trusting boss, Alan, returned from the back of the establishment and approached Dantalion. They introduced themselves and began to head for Alan’s office. No! Alan could be in danger. Dantalion was a murderer. He was not to be trusted. Joan rushed over and stood between Alan and Dantalion. Hands on her hips, she glared at the demon. Her anger made her move forward until she was jabbing her finger into Dantalion’s rock hard chest without thinking about what she was really doing. “You!” Joan began. “What the hell are you doing here?” She demanded.

  Dantalion blinked at her and arched an eyebrow. “I’m here for a job interview, Miss…?”

  For some reason the fact that Dantalion didn’t recognize her…hurt. And the fact that she was hurt surprised her. Although she wasn’t really Jeanne d’Arc, she reminded herself. She was the reincarnation of Jeanne d’Arc. Her body was different, her parents were different, and her older sister was different. She merely had the same soul. She was Joan Simone now. Of course it makes sense that he doesn’t recognize me.

  Joan gawked at the demon. “A job interview?” She looked at Dantalion dubiously. Did he really expect her to believe that? He was definitely up to something. He was a demon, for God’s sake. He couldn’t be trusted.

  Alan had turned back around and was watching the exchange curiously. “Is there a problem Joan? Do you know him?”

  “Do I know him? I…!” Joan struggled to form words. Of course she knew him. He was Dantalion, Great Duke of Hell! The commander of thirty-six legions of demons. He was a cold-blooded murderer. Her mortal enemy. “You can’t hire him Alan! He’s a-!” Joan bit her lower lip. If she told Alan that Dantalion was a demon he’d think she was completely bonkers.

  Dantalion’s eyebrow rose even higher. Ugh.

  “Yes?” Alan pressed. “He’s a what, Joan?”

  Joan huffed and gave Dantalion a conflicted look. Why is here, darn it? “Nothing. Never mind.” Joan couldn’t stop the budding curiosity from blossoming within her. No matter how she saw it - the demon was acting strangely.

  Alan shrugged, still smiling, and continued on his way.

  Joan grabbed Dante’s shoulder as he passed her by. “I’m keeping my eyes on you. If you hurt him…” She trailed off threateningly.

  Dantalion’s eyes widened in surprise, and he kept his voice low as he responded. “Why would I hurt him?”

  “Because he’s a good person.” Joan huffed.

  Dantalion smiled charmingly at her. The jerk’s teeth were practically sparkling. “Don’t worry Miss. I will not harm your boss.” That said Dantalion strode off after Alan.

  Joan discreetly followed after them. Once the office door had closed behind them, she went up and pressed her ear to the door. She stayed there ready to listen in on their conversation. As Joan listened to Dantalion being interviewed by Alan she thought it became rather obvious that Dantalion was no normal individual. Though, Alan seemed to be cutting Dantalion a lot of slack since the demon claimed he’d been in the French Army and had been fighting overseas in Afghanistan.

  Oddly enough, Dantalion was answering most of the questions as honestly as he could. Alan seemed to believe the nonsense that was coming out of Dante’s mouth, and was eating it up word for word. Joan snorted at Alan telling the Great Duke of Hell, Dantalion, to settle disputes nonviolently. I’d like to see that one happening! Ha!

  When Alan brought up the possible scenario of a customer touching her inappropriately and she heard Dante’s growled out response, Joan felt strangely flattered.

  The interview was over minutes later, and it sounded like Alan had actually decided to hire Dantalion. A demon! No, no, no! What could Alan be thinking? Joan held her head in her hands in a panic. The office door opened, caught Joan off guard, and it slammed right into her nose.

  “Ow!” Joan put a hand to her reddening nose. Teary-eyed, she glared at Dantalion as if this had been his fault.

  Dantalion gave her an amused look. “Didn’t you know that eavesdropping is considered to be rather rude?”

  Joan couldn’t help it, she blushed.

  Alan laughed amiably. “Joan’s probably just curious about whether or not I decided to hire you. Well, the answer’s ‘yes’, Joan. I decided to hire Dante.”

  Joan’s expression turned horrified. “You didn’t? No way. How could you hire that - that man? Argh!” Ah, so it’s Dante now…pfft. She let out another very unladylike snort that caused Dante’s lips to twitch.

  Alan gave Joan a curious look. “What’s wrong, Joan?”

  “Nothing. Hmph.” Joan said as she crossed her arms under her chest. She watched as the two men headed for the bar and Alan opened the counter-top door so Dante could get behind it. Then Alan told Dante to make everyone some Scarlet O’Haras. Joan had to admit that she was curious to see if Dantalion would actually be able to make the cocktail.

  She watched intently as he struggled to figure out what SoCo and a highball glass were, and that had been pretty funny. Joan wondered when Dante had been unsealed. Recently? Hundreds of years ago? Michael claimed that it was Dantalion who was gating in the lesser demons but…Dantalion didn’t seem too knowledgeable about this era yet, so he must have awakened recently.

  Was Michael mistaken? Maybe the demon they were looking for wasn’t Dante. Maybe another demon was behind all of the lesser demons showing up in New York City. Joan was intrigued about what Dantalion was up to exactly. So far he hadn’t made any violent moves. Or maybe that was only because he hadn’t recognized her. If Dante knew who she really was he would surely attack and try to kill her. It was for this very reason that Joan decided not to tell Dante her true identity. She also wanted to observe him and discover what his true intentions were before she made a decision about him.

  That’s why when Franky began to give Dante a hard time about not knowing what Ocean Spray Cranberry juice was, Joan leaned over the counter and helpfully tapped the cooler. “Wouldn’t it be in the cooler?”

  Dante looked up and gave Joan a grateful look. He opened the cooler and found the cranberry juice he’d been looking for as well as the lime juice, and was able to finish mixing the drinks.

  Joan couldn’t help but be impressed that Dante had apparently memorized more than two
hundred drink recipes, but at the same time he’d never made any of them before. Why did Dante want to be a bartender all of a sudden? Joan mused. It didn’t make a lot of sense as the starting point for a demon’s nefarious plot.

  That’s when Alan told Franky to teach Dante all the names of the different liquors and spirits available in the pub and the types of glasses they used. Franky didn’t seem too pleased with this development and gave Dantalion a bit of an attitude. That’s a mistake. You’re so dead, buddy. Joan feared for the man’s life, but surprisingly Dantalion seemed to be taking it all in stride.

  You wouldn’t be such a jerk to Dantalion if you knew he could skewer you on a spear like a kabob while blindfolded and with both hands tied behind his back! Joan thought morbidly to herself with a shudder. The things she’d heard that this demon had done centuries ago…were the kinds of things that could keep a person up all night.

  For the rest of the workday, Franky taught Dante while Joan continued to clean up the pub. The pub closed at midnight. It was a long workday. By the time Joan was finally leaving, she, Dante, and Alan were the only ones left in the place. Dante was still studying bottles of liquor when Alan had already gone to bed. Alan lived above the pub in a small apartment.

  Joan hesitated upon leaving Dante alone with Alan in the building. She was about to leave the pub when she turned back around and stomped over to the bar to glare at Dante. She cleared her throat loudly to get his attention. “Ahem, are you leaving soon?”

  Dante turned around and gave Joan a quizzical look. “No, I wish to study more. Is there something I can help you with Miss?”

  A muscle ticked below Joan’s eye in irritation at Dante calling her ‘Miss’. “I have a name, you know. You can call me Joan.” Joan said impatiently.

  Dante nodded with a strange expression on his face. “Alright, Joan. Do you need to be walked home?”

  Joan gawked and blinked at Dante in sheer disbelief. He wanted to walk her home? Just…what game was he playing at? A demon Duke walking a human female home? That was just…preposterous!

  “It’s probably dangerous for a young woman to walk around here at night.” Dante added looking concerned. He wiped his hands on a towel. “I shall accompany you to your destination.”

  He looked…sincere. It was bizarre. Dante was lifting the counter-top door when Joan stopped him and put her hands up before her. “Ah, no, don’t worry about it. I have a car.”

  Dante stopped and it was his turn to look impressed. “Ah, I see. Then…goodnight. I shall see you on the morrow, Joan.”

  The way he said her name sent tingles running up and down her spine. Joan turned around to go and waved. “Yea, yea, bye.” Joan left the Irish pub and let out a heavy sigh. She didn’t know if she was making a huge mistake leaving Dante alone with Alan or not. If Alan wound up dead the next day it would be all her fault. Joan tugged at her hair at the thought.

  Joan reached her Volvo and got inside. She started the engine and pulled out of her parking spot. She then made her way down the street, heading towards her apartment building. It didn’t take her long to reach her building and park her car in the underground parking lot. She rode the elevator up to her floor and was soon opening her apartment door to be instantly greeted by Michael.

  As soon as the guardian angel spotted Joan walking through the doorway, he pounced, tackled Joan to the floor, and began to lick her face enthusiastically. It was moments like this that Joan could forget that Michael was actually a powerful, guardian angel in disguise. That is until he opened his maw and spoke. “Joan! Welcome home!”

  “Ah, Michael! What are you doing? Get off…yuck!” Joan struggled to push the affectionate golden retriever off of her. Sometimes Michael really did act like a mutt. She succeeded in pushing Michael off of her, stood up, and dusted her clothes off.

  “How was your first day at work?” Michael asked with his tail wagging back and forth behind him vigorously.

  “Ah.” As soon as Michael mentioned ‘work’ Joan couldn’t help but think about Dante and his sudden and unexpected appearance. Michael suspected Dantalion was the demon responsible for gating in lesser demons. She should really tell Michael about Dante’s appearance, but she decided not to. “It was alright. The bar’s a little slow.” She felt bad about keeping things from Michael but…until she knew what Dante’s true intentions were she didn’t want Michael to overreact.

  Michael’s tail stopped wagging. He could tell Joan was keeping something from him. He’d been her guardian angel since she was born in this era. If fact, five hundred and eighty-four years ago, he’d been Jeanne d’Arc’s guardian angel then too. He knew Joan like the back of his hand. She was an open book. He just hoped it wasn’t anything bad. “Oh, well, I’m sure things will pick up now that they have a cute waitress like you.” Michael said confidently.

  Joan couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. She crouched down, wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck, and scratched him behind his ear. “Thanks.” A cute waitress, huh? I’m just a tomboy. For some reason an image of Jenny leaning over and showing off her cleavage to Dante popped into Joan’s mind. Slut.

  Joan made her way to her bedroom and picked up the silver cross that was lying on her bed. She should really stop being so stubborn and have the cross with her. Especially, if Dante decided to gate in a lesser demon at work or something. Then she’d be able to catch him in the act. Her cross wasn’t glowing, which meant she didn’t need to go hunting for lesser demons that night. Thank God.

  Joan got ready for bed and minutes later she was crawling into her bed utterly exhausted. She fell into a restless sleep, and her dreams were filled with ancient battles fought by knights on horseback against handsome demons with shinning, golden eyes.

  ***

  The following morning, Joan woke up with a pair of golden eyes burned into her mind. She blushed. Michael would be incredibly angry with her if he knew she was dreaming about Dantalion. He’d probably threaten her with burning her at the stake. She shuddered at the thought.

  Joan got ready for work. She showered, washed her face, brushed her teeth, dressed in the same dark green tank top she’d worn yesterday, and picked out a pair of black jeans and knee boots. She had breakfast, fed Michael his kibble, and took her cross with her this time. She made sure to put the cross on a long chain so that she could hide it beneath her tank top.

  Joan got into her Volvo and drove to Dullahan’s Irish Pub. She managed to park out front since there weren’t very many cars parked in the area. Joan got out of the car and made her way to the front door. It was eight o’clock. She opened the door and the bell above the door jingled as she made her way inside. All the lights were turned on and the place looked ready for business. Joan figured that she and Alan would probably be the only ones there that early, but then her attention turned towards the bar.

  Her eyes nearly fell out of her head at the sight of Dantalion standing behind the bar, which was completely covered in an assortment of over one hundred drinks that Dante had obviously been practicing how to make: colorful, layered tropical cocktails, classic mixed drinks, martinis, shooters, hot drinks, wine cocktails, stick drinks, and hot cocktails. There were drinks in tall glasses, drinks in short glasses, wine in wine glasses, and drinks in martini glasses. It was an incredible sight. Her green eyes sparkled with admiration.

  Dante was currently preparing a Mojito and adding mint leaves to it. He looked so…human in that moment. He had this look of extreme concentration on his face and really looked like he was trying his best. It was cute.

  Joan found herself smiling dopily at the handsome demon who was still dressed in his Armani suit. Joan approached Dante with interest. “Good morning, Dante.” Joan greeted him casually and admired the beautiful drinks that he’d managed to create. Each drink was like a tiny work of art. Art…if Joan recalled correctly Dante was a demon known for his knowledge in the arts and sciences.

  Dante jerked in surprise and looked up. H
is eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of Joan. “Joan.” He seemed to be having some kind of an internal struggle. “Good morning.”

  How hard is it to say good morning? Geesh. Joan smirked and took a seat at the bar, slipping onto one of the barstools. She propped her chin on her right hand and looked around at all of the drinks Dante had made. “Were you really up all night making all these cocktails?”

  Dante swallowed thickly and nodded. “Indeed.”

  Joan looked up and smiled at him boldly, looking him right in the eyes. “Impressive. May I try one?”

  “O-Of course.” Dante said with a wave of his hand at the drinks. “Choose whichever you wish.”

  Joan looked interestedly at all of the cocktails and spotted a coffee drink. She decided on it and took a sip. “Mmm.” The coffee was smooth and sweet with a touch of caramel flavor. As Joan stared into her coffee cup and at the dark liquid she couldn’t help but think that the coffee and Dante were similar. It’s smooth, dark, and maybe a little bitter, but there’s a hidden sweetness to it. Joan shook her head of such bizarre thoughts. Dante was an evil demon. He had no hidden sweetness. She’d learned that the hard way centuries ago.

  “What the fxxx is going on here?” Came an angry, low, baritone voice.

  “Don’t swear.” Joan automatically chided.

  Dante and Joan turned their attention to see Franky entering the pub and stalking towards them. Dante raised an eyebrow at the fuming human male. “Hello Franky, good morning. What seems to be the problem?”

  “What’s the problem? I’ll tell you what the problem is! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He waved his hand at the assortment of drinks. “What is this?” Franky demanded hotly and the man had even begun to unconsciously crack his knuckles.

  “I was practicing mixing drinks, of course.” Dante replied dryly. What a simpleton.

  “Pfft.” Franky let out a disgusted snort. “You idiot, you can’t do that. You’ve just wasted a whole ton of liquor and cost our boss a ton of money. He is going to be so pissed when he sees this.” Franky suddenly smiled at that thought. “You’re so going to get fired, idiot. ALAN! GET YOUR BUTT OUT HERE. WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY!” Franky bellowed, spit flying from his mouth.

  Joan flinched at Franky’s violent behavior. The man certainly had a temper, and he looked pretty menacing with all those demonic tattoos. She was glad she had Jeanne d’Arc’s cross with her that day, which would enable her to summon her sword in case she needed it.

  “C-Coming!” Alan called out. He quickly emerged from the back and into the main pub area. Alan approached the bar quizzically and took in the sight of all of the colorful assorted drinks and cocktails. Alan’s blue eyes glittered and he grinned. “Ooo pretty. Did you make all those cocktails yourself, Dante? It looks like you’ve been practicing hard all night long, eh?”

  Dante nodded, and bowed slightly. “Yes Sir. I was practicing but I-”

  Franky cut him off. “Alan! This is no time to be praising him! He wasted all the booze! He just cost you a ton of money! You should fire him at once!” The bartender demanded with a haughty expression on his face.

  “May I try one?” Alan asked Dante while ignoring Franky.

  Dante’s lip twitched. “Of course, Boss.”

  Alan selected an Irish coffee, wrapped his chilled fingers around the mug, took a sip, and hummed in appreciation. “Mmm. That’s good. I’ve had hundreds of Irish coffees in my lifetime already but I have to say Dante…this is the best one I’ve ever tasted.”

  As Franky listened to the exchange he was growing angrier and angrier. His face had begun to turn red and now Joan thought he resembled a tomato. Franky reached out, grabbed Alan’s shoulder, and spun him around to face him. “Are you even listening to me, Alan? I said: you should fire that guy!” Franky squeezed Alan’s shoulder until Alan flinched in pain.

  It almost looked like Franky was threatening Alan to fire Dante! Joan realized. That jerk! “Hey!” Joan started to object as she started forward, but Dante beat her too it.

  Dante reached out, grabbed Franky’s wrist, and removed the man’s hand from Alan’s shoulder without saying a single word. Dante just stared at Franky coldly while Franky glared back in challenge.

  Alan let out a nervous laugh, and put up his hands in a surrendering gesture. “Guys, there’s no need to fight. Franky, I’m not mad at Dante for practicing. He was just doing his job so I’m not going to fire him. Sorry.” Alan said firmly, but his hands were slightly shaking.

  Franky glared at Alan as if he couldn’t believe the young pub owner was actually daring to stand up to him.

  Joan knew that Alan and Dantalion were in a tough spot and that she had to come up with something to resolve this situation, fast. An idea came to her. “Hey Alan, I have an idea. Why don’t we have a special today where customers can have one free drink in order to promote our new bartender? Customers can just choose it at the bar from this gorgeous selection of already made drinks. I’ll type up some fliers, print them out, and hand them out outside the pub. What do you think?”

  Alan’s expression brightened and he beamed at Joan. “I think that’s a great idea, Joan.”

  “Tch…what a stupid idea.” Franky groused as he ran his hand over his buzz cut. “No one will ever come here. No one ever does.”

  Joan put her hands on her hips and glared at Franky. “God, you’re so negative. Today will be different, Franky. You’ll see. Alan, can I please use your computer?”

  “Sure.” Alan instantly agreed.

  Since that was settled, Joan went to Alan’s office to use his laptop and created a flier for the special event using Microsoft word and some text art. The flier ended up reading as follows:

  Dullahan’s Irish Pub Presents:

  Free Drink Special Event

  For today only!

  In celebration of Dullahan’s new bartender

  “Dante”

  Each customer is allowed to go

  to the bar and select one drink of their choice!

  Enjoy!

  Joan added green and yellow text art, and little green and yellow shamrocks around the border of the page. She scaled the image down so that she could print two fliers on the same page. This way the fliers would be easier to hand out to people because they were smaller. Joan printed out twenty copies, which gave her forty fliers, and used a pair of scissors to cut the pages in half. After gathering the fliers together into a neat pile she exited the office and headed for the front of the pub. Alan was still at the bar speaking to Dante. At this point Jenny had arrived and she was speaking to Franky in low, conspiratorial tones.

  “Hey Alan, I finished the fliers. I’ll go outside and start handing them out to people.” Joan announced.

  “Can’t believe she’s actually going outside. It’s effing freezing out there.” Franky muttered to Jenny.

  Alan nodded and smiled. “You’re a real trooper, Joan. Don’t forget your jacket. It’s pretty cold out there! Come back inside as soon as you feel like you’re getting too cold.”

  “Thanks, Boss.” Joan said as she went to fetch her jacket. She put her leather jacket on and went outside of the pub. A rush of cold air hit her face. It was freezing outside! It was already the second week of November after all so it wasn’t surprising. Joan reached into her jean pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She quickly dialed Kim’s number. After a few rings Kim picked up.

  “Hey Joan what’s up?”

  “Hey Kim, are you busy?”

  “I’m at a photo shoot, why?”

  “I got a new job at this Irish pub. You know Dullahan’s, right? It’s the place with the creepy sign with the headless horsewoman on it. Anyways, today we’re giving away free drinks. Think you can bring some friends by later?” Joan crossed her fingers.

  “Free drinks? What kind of free drinks?”

  “Oh, just about everything: tropical cocktails, martinis, shooters…” Joan trailed off.

&nbs
p; “Count us in! I’ll tell everyone at the shoot to go. We should be there in about an hour or so.”

  “Hey, thanks Kim. You’re a real lifesaver.”

  “No prob. C-ya.” Kim ended the call.

  Joan looked around the slightly deserted street. It was too cold for anyone to be walking around but there were a few passersby. Joan rubbed her hands together to try and warm them and cursed herself for forgetting to bring her gloves again.

  A man was walking by and Joan quickly handed him a flier. “Free drink today of your choice. Today only. We have a new bartender so…” Joan trailed off as the man kept walking, but then he stopped as he looked down and read the flier.

  The businessman turned back around and approached Joan with a curious look on his face. “Is this for real? I can get a free drink? No charge?”

  “Of course, it’s a special promotion for our new bartender.” Joan explained with an easy smile.

  “Sweet.” The man said. “Count me in. Can I tell my friends?”

  Joan nodded, expression eager. “That would be great. Thanks!”

  The man went inside. Joan grinned to herself. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all. Within the hour Joan managed to get twenty people into the bar. After that a van was pulling up in front of Dullahan’s. Joan watched as a group of drop-dead gorgeous young women and Kim stepped out of the van before approaching Joan.

  “Hey Joan!” Kim waved over at her friend and approached her.

  “Hey, girl.” Joan greeted.

  “These are my friends.” Kim waved a hand at the people behind her. “They were also doing the holiday shoot with me: Becky, Cindy, Karen, Stephanie, Laura, and Annie. Our Manager Brad Ackerman, our photographer for the shoot, Perrier, and stylist Leila!” Kim quickly introduced the group of ten people total (including Kim). “Perrier and Leila are here temporarily from California so they’re not used to the cold weather.”

  “It’s so cold!” Leila put in as she rubbed her arms through her jacket.

  “Well, you’re in luck. Dante made some hot drinks too.” Joan informed the punky stylist. The young woman had a black bob of hair that had chunky red highlights. She was wearing a black leather jacket that hid what she was wearing but Joan was able to see her red and black striped stockings and black knee boots.

  “I’m starved. Do they have food in this place or just drinks?” One of the models asked as she rubbed her hands together in expectation.

  “We have food.” Joan quickly said. Yes! Finally a real customer!

  “Do they have burgers?” Another piped in.

  “Yes.” Joan nodded eagerly.

  “Great. Let’s go, girls.” The model led the way into the pub. Kim chuckled as she watched her friends go inside. “Are you coming inside, Joan? I think you’ve probably done enough promotion and your nose is all red. You look like Rudolf!”

  Joan rubbed her nose self-consciously. “Gee, thanks. Yea, I’ll come in.”

  As Kim and Joan entered the pub, the sight that met them was surprising. Customers were seated at the tables happily enjoying their complimentary drinks, and several patrons had ordered snacks to go along with their drinks: nachos, quesadillas, potato skins, baskets of French fries, and baskets of onion rings.

  People are actually ordering things! Yes! Joan inwardly cheered and resisted the urge to fist pump.

  Kim’s party was at the bar and they were all busy selecting their drinks from the impressive assortment. They seemed to be making a lot of noise and Joan wondered what all the fuss was about until she realized that all of the models had their focus upon Dante.

  Jenny was watching the commotion with a frown on her face. Her sharp gaze was pinned upon Franky, her boyfriend, who was currently checking out all of the beautiful models with visible drool sliding down his chin. Jenny was gritting her teeth and gripping a fork as if she planned on stabbing Franky’s jugular with it.

  Meanwhile, the models were asking the demon about the drinks he’d made as well as completely irrelevant things. “Eeee, so your name is Dante? How long have you been working here?” “How old are you?” “Are you single?” “Can I have your phone number?” “Would you be interested in a modeling gig?” Even their manager had begun to bombard Dante with questions.

  A muscle beneath Joan’s eye ticked. Those girls…they have no idea just who they are talking to. Don’t be fooled by his charm and good looks, ladies. He’s a bloodthirsty demon who probably wants to eat your soul! At least Dante was ignoring their advances. Not that it had anything to do with her. And not like she really cared either.

  Kim suddenly latched onto Joan’s arm with a wide-eyed look on her face. “J-Joan! Who is that? You didn’t tell me you had a hottie working here.”

  “Er…that’s Dante Cromwell. He’s our new bartender.” Joan informed her friend dully and tried to sound disinterested. Oh yea, and he’s a Great Duke of Hell. She added in her mind. I wish I could tell Kim the truth but she’d think I was crazy. “Kim…I wouldn’t go after Dante if I were you.” She said offhandedly instead.

  Kim gave Joan a piercing look. “Possessive are we? Don’t worry I understand. You want dibs, right?”

  “It’s not like that.” Joan was quick to object.

  But Kim wasn’t really listening to her. “Well, you did see him first, and besides I have Gilebert now.” She let out a wistful sigh and her honey-colored eyes seemed to shine.

  “Gilebert?” Joan raised an eyebrow, even as a chill went down her spine. There was something about that handsome barista that Joan just didn’t like. She couldn’t put her finger on it but there was something off about him. “You two are going out now?”

  Kim nodded excitedly. “Yes. I asked him out that morning, and he said ‘yes’. We’ve been dating ever since. Gilebert is such a gentleman. He takes me out to expensive dinners, the opera, the movies, and even buys me pretty clothes. I’ve never met a guy who pampers me like he does. He’s treating me like a princess, Joan. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

  Joan wanted to be happy for her friend; she really did, but for something reason this was sounding a little…fishy. “He buys you things? Well, obviously he expects something in return, right?”

  Kim gave Joan an exasperated look. “Oh Joan, you’re such a prude, not to mention a stick in the mud. It’s not like I wouldn’t have ended up sleeping with him anyways. So what’s the big deal? He’s really hot. The fact that he likes to pamper me is just an added bonus.”

  Joan bit her lip to stop herself from making any more negative comments. She didn’t want to keep raining on Kim’s parade. She didn’t know why Gilebert gave her the creeps. He seemed almost…too perfect. It was suspicious. But as long as Kim was happy, Joan was happy. She would support her friend in her new relationship.

  “Excuse me, waitress, can I place an order?” A customer called Joan over to his table.

  Kim smiled at Joan. “I’ll leave you to your work. I’ll go join the others and get a closer look at Dante.” A cat’s paw smile formed on Kim’s face. She was such a man-eater.

  Joan rolled her eyes at her flirtatious friend. “You go do that, Kimmy.” Joan went to the table and took the order of a guy sitting there - a cheeseburger, fries and a Long Island Iced Tea. She made her way to the kitchen and handed Ivan the order. Ivan was a big-boned, burly German guy, who weighed at least two hundred pounds. He had thinning blonde hair, blue eyes and a very pale almost red complexion.

  “Hey Ivan, here’s another order.” Joan said as she handed him the piece of paper she’d ripped out of her notepad.

  Ivan grinned at Joan as he took the page and his blue eyes sparkled with interest. “Thanks, doll, it’s gotten busy all of a sudden. If this keeps up I may even need help back here!”

  Joan smiled at Ivan. “I sure hope so. Keep up the good work.”

  After Kim’s party finished selecting their free drinks they spread out between two tables, and Joan made her way over to take their food orders.
Joan took their orders, returned to the kitchen, and handed Ivan another page from her notebook. Ivan thanked Joan again, and began to cook hurriedly. He had ten meals to create all on his own after all.

  Joan looked around the kitchen and her nose scrunched up at the sight. It didn’t look very clean. Probably it’s dirty because of disuse? But was that really an excuse to let it get this bad? Joan opened her mouth to say something but then shut it. It wasn’t really her place to say anything about this. She was just a waitress after all. Ivan might consider her overstepping her bounds.

  Joan left the kitchen and returned to the main pub area where she continued to take orders, get people silverware, and grab their drinks at the bar from Dante.

  The models were watching Dante prepare their new drinks with dreamy expressions on their faces and hearts in their eyes. Dante seemed to notice and began to show off by spinning the shaker around his hands and tossing it up into the air before catching it with his other hand behind his back. He grabbed a bottle that had a pouring nozzle attached to it and began to perform a stunt with the shaker tin and bottle next. He juggled the tin and bottle, passing them behind his back, and catching the bottle inside of the empty shaker tin. A small knowing smirk formed on his face.

  Joan gawked. When had he learned to do that?

  Franky meanwhile was glaring heatedly at Dante. Joan could tell that he was getting pretty worked up by all the attention Dante was getting from the models and not him. Was he jealous? Joan wondered and snorted. Yea, that’s so mature.

  Dante had finished the drink he was mixing and set it down on the counter for Joan to take. “Here Joan-” He was saying when Franky ‘accidentally’ knocked into Dante causing him to knock the drink over and onto himself. The amber-colored alcoholic beverage spilled all over his expensive Armani suit.

  “Whoops. Sorry about that, buddy.” Franky apologized in a sarcastic tone while patting Dante’s arm.

  Eyes wide, Joan looked at Dante, curious to see what his reaction would be. Would he attack Franky? Franky was so dead.

  Dante set down the glass and let out a frustrated sigh as if he’d expected this to happen. “Don’t worry about it, buddy.” The demon began to take his jacket off, which he set aside. This left Dante in a white, long-sleeved, button-down shirt and black pants.

  The Long Island Ice Tea had splashed all over the front of Dante’s shirt and onto the crotch of his pants. The white material of his shirt was clinging to Dante’s body in such a way that Joan was able to see Dante’s muscular physique underneath.

  Joan swallowed. Dante was probably in really good shape. Joan’s eyes widened even more when Dante took his tie off and began to unbutton his shirt in front of her. With eyes about to fall out of her head, she watched Dante swiftly undoing the buttons and revealing more and more of his pale, muscled chest. Dante took his shirt off, picked up a towel, and began to dry his chest off.

  That’s when Joan realized that it had gotten strangely quiet inside of the pub, and turned around to see that she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Dante taking his shirt off. Joan returned her gaze upon this demon man who had the body of a Greek God.

  His upper body looked like it had been chiseled from a slab of hard, white marble. Joan’s eyes traveled over his strong pecs, down his muscled torso and six-pack abs. She was even able to see the lines of muscle that formed a ‘V’ which directed her gaze to fall upon Dante’s crotch before she realized what she was doing and pulled her gaze away. His muscles flexed as he dried himself off and Joan’s mouth went dry. There was so much pent-up power in his body. A whispering promise of death and destruction that Joan had witnessed firsthand centuries ago.

  “Sorry Joan, I’ll make another Long Island Ice Tea right away.” Dante apologized as he began to prepare the drink while shirtless.

  “Uh…” Joan stuttered.

  The models who’d been watching could no longer contain themselves. “Eeeee! Dante you’re so hot!” “Oh my God…I love this place!” “I’m going to go over there and give him a tip!” “Me too!” “Me three!”

  The models all stood up, swarmed the bar, and began to offer Dante tips. “Here Dante.” “Here.” “Here, take this.” One bold model slipped a hundred dollar bill into the waistband of Dante’s pants. Dante blinked at that, didn’t know how he should properly react, and so froze. Another model was emboldened by Dante’s lack of negative response and moved in to put her own bill down Dante’s pants next.

  But Joan reached out her hand and grabbed the model’s wrist on reflex in order to stop her. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” Joan started in a stern tone.

  The model glared back at Joan, her silver eyes flashing. “I’m giving him a tip. What’s it to you? Are you his girlfriend?”

  Joan’s heart flip-flopped at the jab. “No, I’m not but…this isn’t a strip club. He’s not Magic Mike, you know? You could really get us in trouble with this kind of trashy behavior. Dante, don’t let any of the other girls put money down your pants. It’s inappropriate and such activity is illegal.” Joan explained to the demon. She wasn’t exactly sure if it was illegal for a girl to stick money down a guy’s pants, but it should have been!

  Dante nodded and let out a breath of relief. “Understood, Joan. I’m sorry, ladies, but you heard what Joan said. I don’t want to cause trouble for my Boss.”

  “Awww.” The girls all groaned in disappointment and shot hateful glares Joan’s way. Joan flinched but held her ground.

  At that moment, Alan made his way over to the bar with hurried steps. The pub owner looked at the situation before him with a worried expression on his face. “Dante, what’s going on?”

  Dante was about to respond but Joan beat him to it. “Franky spilled a Long Island Iced Tea on Dante on purpose, and he had no choice but to take his shirt off. Unfortunately, all the girls went a little crazy and wanted to tip Dante. We need to find Dante a shirt a-sap, Boss.” Joan explained in a rush.

  Alan nodded while Dante shot Joan a thankful look. Alan stroked his chin in thought, as he looked Dante over. “He’s a lot bigger than me. I don’t think any of my shirts would fit him…oh! My Dad was about Dante’s size! I’ll be right back!” Alan ran off and made his way upstairs to fetch Dante some dry clothes to wear.

  “Thank you, Joan.” Dante said with a sincere look in his molten gold eyes.

  Joan waved her hand through the air. “Don’t worry about it.”

  A few minutes later, Alan returned with a clean shirt, black vest, and bowtie for Dante to put on. Dante put on the white, long-sleeved, button-down shirt, the black leather vest, and black bowtie to complete the look.

  Alan grinned while looking quite pleased with himself. “Now you really look like a bartender. I’m surprised I didn’t think of this before.”

  “Oh?” Dante raised an eyebrow at Alan. “Is this what bartenders usually wear? Not suits?”

  Alan chuckled at that and shook his head. “When my Dad was bartending he would always wear that. Most bartenders wear that outfit. It suits you.”

  Dante smiled slightly. “Thanks, Boss.”

  “Don’t you think so, Joan?” Alan asked slyly.

  Joan blushed and realized that she’d been staring at Dante the entire time. “Er, yes, he looks good. I mean the clothes look good. Yea.”

  Dante’s expression shifted to amusement as he watched Joan blush. During all this, Franky was grinding his teeth together in anger.

  But cutting through everything that was happening was a woman’s sudden scream.

  Dante put one hand on the bar counter before using it to support his weight so he could swing his legs over the bar. Dante landed on the floor with a thud before running over to the woman’s side. “What’s wrong, Miss?”

  The woman pointed at her cheeseburger. “There’s a cockroach!”

  Dante looked at her burger, picked off the bug, threw it on the floor, and stepped on it with a crunch of his boot.

 
Dante could feel the woman’s fear replenishing his demonic power. “Are you alright now, Miss?”

  The pretty brunette looked up at Dante, smiled tremulously, and her fear seemed to evaporate. “Uh…yes, thank you.” Her voice sounded breathy.

  Dante waved his hand at the burger. “Then you can continue your meal in peace.”

  The woman’s eyes widened as she looked down at her burger with a queasy look on her face. “Uh…”

  “What he meant to say is we’ll get you a new burger or whatever you want right away.” Joan amended as she quickly picked up the plate.

  “Ah, yes, a new burger, please.” The woman agreed.

  “Come on, Dante. Follow me.” Joan said as she walked off towards the kitchen with the burger.

  Dante followed at her side. “So…a human, er, person won’t consume a meal that has had a bug on it?”

  Joan nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Humans can be picky like that. No bugs. And if there is one you must always exchange the food or drink, or offer the customers a full refund.”

  “I see. Bugs are certainly a nuisance for a restaurant.” Dante mused aloud.

  Joan and Dante entered the kitchen. “Ivan, there was a cockroach on this burger. You’ll have to redo it.” Joan said sternly with her hands on her hips.

  “Tch…prissy girls.” Ivan complained as he took the plate and dumped the burger into a nearby trashcan.

  Dante looked down at the burger in the trashcan in surprise, and couldn’t help but think about the homeless people he’d met at Central Park. When he’d first encountered them they hadn’t even had food to eat. He was sure a mere cockroach would not have bothered them. At that moment, Dante caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He picked up a kitchen knife and brought it down upon a cockroach slicing it neatly in two.

  Ivan and Joan both gasped in surprise.

  Dante looked around the kitchen, his eyes searching the shadows for more vermin to exterminate. “This place is…infested. Not only are there cockroaches here but there are also mice. Not to worry. I shall exterminate all of the vermin in no time at all.” Extermination is what I do best.

  Joan could suddenly sense demonic energy coming from Dante as her cross pulsed. What the hell? The Demon Detector had been dormant before, but now it was sensing demonic power from Dante.

  “Ah, Ivan, why don’t we give Dante a little space while he takes care of our infestation problem?” Joan suggested sagely as she grabbed Ivan by his shoulders and steered him out of the kitchen. “Just call us when you’re done, Dante.” She called over her shoulder.

  “Understood.” Dante replied, a fierce gleam in his golden eyes as Joan shut the door after them.

  Ivan struggled out of Joan’s hold and gave the waitress a look of sheer disbelief. “Are you crazy? There’s no way he can kill all the crap living in there.”

  Thud, thud, thud. A series of tiny thuds could be heard coming from within the kitchen and Joan smiled knowingly. “Oh, I think you’d be surprised by what he can do.”

  Five minutes later, Dante’s voice was calling out to them. “Alright Joan, I’m done.”

  Joan and Ivan reentered the kitchen and Dante was holding up a huge, eighty-gallon trash bag filled with dead bugs and mice.

  “There were rats too. But I took care of them.” Dante announced with a note of pride in his voice. Joan wondered if Dante wanted a reward or something. She had to resist giving him a pat on the head. She wondered if Lucifer rewarded Dante after he won battles for him centuries ago.

  Ivan looked queasy at the sight of the enormous bag and placed a hand over his mouth as he gagged.

  “I’m good at killing-” Dante continued conversationally.

  Joan laughed loudly in order to interrupt him. “Yes, you are good at killing bugs.” She stressed the word ‘bugs’ before grabbing Dante and dragging him out of the kitchen.

  Dante gave Joan a quizzical look. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Joan shook her head. “No…just…people don’t normally go around talking about killing things, Dante. I know you were in the military but it’s not…normal. Understand?”

  Dante nodded. “I understand, Joan. Thank you for all your advice. You’ve been a great help since I got here.”

  “No prob.” Joan waved a hand dismissively through the air but she was oddly touched by his words.

  “I don’t think I could do this without you.” Dante offered her a small smile.

  Joan blinked back at Dante in shock and blushed. “Uh…yea.” If Dante knew who I really was he wouldn’t be acting so nice to me. I have to keep that in mind. I can’t become friends with someone I may end up having to fight. I have to try and keep him at a distance. Come on, Joan, you can do this. But even though she was trying to convince herself to start distancing herself from Dante she couldn’t help but admire his almost boyish smile.

  To be continued…in Drink 5: Sweet Revenge

  Dante: “Good evening inferior human, so you wish to know how to make a Scarlet O’Hara do you? Pour 2 ounces of Southern Comfort and a dash of lime juice into a Collins glass filled with ice. Fill with cranberry juice. Garnish with a lime wedge. Did you know that the Scarlet O’Hara is named for the southern belle from the human movie ‘Gone With the Wind’? She had lovely green eyes just like my Jeanne. Don’t forget that the legal drinking age is 21 and to drink responsibly.”