Oberon Dragon
Page 48
“Right. Ginger ale.”
Amanda retrieved a cold bottle from the cooler and sat it on the bar, along with a clean glass, before heading down to the other end to wait for a customer who had just sat down. He was a regular, named Harkin.
“That guy bothering you, Amanda?” he asked.
“No, not at all. Glass of Bud?”
“You know it.”
Amanda went to get his beer, trying to look anywhere but down the bar where Aspen sat sipping on his glass of ginger ale. She poured the beer and returned to sit it down in front of him, leaning in as he motioned for her to do so.
“You need to watch the likes of him, Amanda. Those biker gangs are bad business. I’ve heard stories.”
“What sort of stories?” Amanda asked.
“Things I wouldn’t share with a nice young lady like you,” he told her.
Amanda smiled and nodded. Harkin was in his upper sixties, a widow. He spent most of his nights in the bar, surrounded by yuppies and college kids from the town nearby. It was a popular dive among not only the locals but those in the outer counties, as well. Aspen was very much out of place in his biker gear, but he didn’t seem to care. It made Amanda wonder, once again, what he was even doing here.
She made her way along the bar, serving other customers before finally making it back to Aspen. He seemed to be oblivious to anything around him. Instead, he appeared lost in thought as he ran his finger around the edge of his glass and stared off into the distance. Amanda found herself once again wondering who he was supposed to meet tonight. What would she look like? Would she be some cheap floozy in leather and tattoos?
“Have you been stood up?” she asked as closing time grew nearer and he still sat there, periodically making small talk with an older gentleman beside him.
“Stood up?”
“Yes. I thought you were waiting on someone to join you.”
“I am.”
“Got here way too early then?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m enjoying waiting.”
Amanda looked at him, puzzled. It dawned on her that perhaps he didn’t have a date and was just waiting for someone interesting to come along. She looked around the bar. There were several attractive women, but she hadn’t seen him attempting to talk to any of them. He was going to have a hard time hooking up if he was just waiting for one to fall into his lap. Still, it wasn’t her business. She shrugged and moved back down the bar to refill a drink.
It was all she could do to keep her eyes on of him. There was something about him that just drew her in. Settling for quick glances in his direction to check his drink level, she mostly pretended he wasn’t down there just begging for her to flirt shamelessly. Still, she wasn’t about to do such a thing. No matter how hot he was, he was still some sort of biker that she knew next to nothing about.
Soon enough the bar began to thin out and she made the last call for the night. A few takers were relishing a final drink before wobbling home, but most of the people that remained seemed focused on settling their tabs and heading out. Except for him. He continued to sit, just sipping his ginger ale.
“You want a fresh one?” she asked, eying his half-empty glass which no longer held any ice and was bound to be incredibly watered down.
“Nope. Guess I should pay up.”
“We don’t charge for designated drivers who drink nothing alcoholic.”
“Nice of you. Guess I’ll just tip the lovely bartender then.”
“Tip jar is down there.”
Amanda nodded toward a glass jar that sat on the other end of the bar and moved away from him, picking up glasses and beginning her nightly ritual of closing the bar. The owner, a crusty old vet, named Roy Dander, was in the back and would be out as soon as they were officially closed to help and count the money taken in. He rarely came out unless there was a problem, trusting her to handle things even though she hadn’t been working for him that long. He said he had “a feel for people” and deemed her trustworthy. He wasn’t wrong, but it seemed a bit risky to her for him to allow a stranger so much latitude.
Finally, everyone was gone but Aspen Lowery, who sat in the same place he had been all evening. Damn, he was disarming. It was time to close up and go home though. He couldn’t stay any longer. She was about to say something when Roy came out and spotted him. It was obvious that he recognized him from the way he began to scowl in his direction.
“Bar’s closing buddy. Time to hit the road,” he said.
“No problem, Roy,” Aspen said.
He seemed unfettered by Roy’s rudeness. Amanda had the feeling that whatever the two men knew about one another went back a very long way. As Aspen walked toward the door, she followed him to lock it behind him.
“I guess that date didn’t pan out, huh?” she remarked as he stepped out.
He turned to look back at her, his face lit up by the neon glow of the Blue Moon sign that hung beside the door. He was smiling happily as he made eye contact so intense that she wanted to jump him right then and there.
“Night isn’t over yet,” he told her.
Amanda watched as he walked toward the only customer vehicle left in the large parking lot, a black and chrome Harley. For the first time, she noticed the large wolf that adorned the back of his jacket. Above it, the words “Silver Wolf MC” were printed in bright red embroidered letters. She was shaken from her momentary paralysis by the sound of Roy calling out to her from the bar. Locking the door, she went back inside.
“When did he start coming in here?” he asked.
“Last night. Why?”
“As long as it is just him and he doesn’t start any trouble, he can come in, but if he starts bringing his buddies or starts any fuss - ban him.”
“Why? Who is he? What has he done?” she asked.
“He’s just bad news. Him and that whole motor club of his. This town would be better off without them.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Stick around, and you’ll learn soon enough. They bring trouble when they come around. I don’t want it in my bar.”
Amanda could tell he was getting a little upset, though she had no idea why. She decided it was probably best to just let it go. Rather than pushing the issue, she went about her work while he began tallying up the register. She finished up and collected the contents of the tip jar, along with the cash he paid her each night from the till. It probably wasn’t necessary. She was far away from the ex, but it made her a little hard to find, just in case he did get any ideas. Collecting her tips, she told him goodnight and let herself out, locking him inside to finish his work.
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[T1]He was described as stoic previously, which means he isn’t the passionate, emotional type.