I will not dress a new way for anyone. I will not change who I am because someone has a problem with me. And I will not let anyone intimidate me. So with that thought, I decided I was not quitting at the end of the night. Instead I am going to push through, and if I were lucky she would quit, or better yet, get fired.
Beth smugly looks me up and down as I walk by. I choose to ignore her and continue to walk back to the stock room to fill the bar and get several white hand towels. I pass a few patrons who are here to start their night off early. A small group heads to one of the tables while two guys head to the bar. I probably should go and take their order because I honestly don’t know if Beth knows what she is doing, but… letting her see that she doesn’t know anything is also very appealing.
Shrugging my shoulders, I continue walking to the stock room. I take my time and look over the glass bottles of alcohol. I pull out a pad of paper from my back pocket and pen from my apron and write down the few bottles we are running low on. Then I do a little re-organizing and, lastly, grab a stack of towels for the bar.
I scan the bar and another group has grabbed a table. Cory is talking to them now. At the bar more guys have sat down and are calling out with their hands in the air to get her attention.
I leave the stack of towels by the cash register while pulling one through my apron belt. I head to the guy with his hand up but Beth gets there first.
"Hey hon, I've never seen you in here before. You new?" I look at the schmo trying to sweet talk Beth.
I resist telling the schmo how eating glass would be easier than trying to warm up to the spoiled brat, but I hold it in. Barely.
“Shane?”
Mentally ignoring how her voice is the sweetest thing I have ever heard, I look down at Cory with a light blush in her cheeks.
“Can I have three cosmos please?”
I like her politeness, a complete opposite from Beth. They must have different parents because they look nothing alike. I nod back at her then grab three martini glasses from the shelf below the bar. I can hear Beth in the background, yelling at someone. I need to hurry because Beth is the kind of girl you want to stuff into a trunk, wrapped in plastic because she’s probably the one who threw a broken bottle at your face.
I place the finished glasses on the bar and Cory moves them to her black holder one by one with her small dainty hands. With a shy smile, she calls out a "Thanks."
"Look, guy, order something or I will hose you." I look over my shoulder, and Beth is holding the soda gun faced at the schmo in a business suit. I want to laugh, and yet, I shake my head to get rid of the mental pictures of her in my trunk. I walk over and calmly take the soda gun from her hand and return it to the holder. I didn’t miss that she let me do it with no resistance. Then I eye the guy in a pinstriped business suit.
“What can I get for you?”
The pinstriped prick looks me over with contempt, as if I am the problem. "Hey, I was talking to the lady,” he whines.
Shocked, I look at him and turn to Beth who half shrugs her right shoulder. I pick back up the soda gun and hand it to her, knowing the chaos will ensure.
Seconds later I hear "Ahh! What the hell was that for?"
Unable to stop myself, I chuckle as I walk to the south side of the bar. I may have to reserve killing her until after her shift. She is definitely a volatile pain in the ass, and I absolutely will end up killing her if we work together for too long, but… she does have one redeeming feature. She does not take shit from anyone, which means tonight is going to either be highly entertaining, or someone is going to call the cops on her. I am hoping for the cuffs.
I looked over the multitude of bodies that have arrived over the past three hours. Some are dancing against each other on the dance floor, and some are sitting at tables watching the dancers on the floor. I scan the tables and stop at Cory, who is taking an order from a table with several women with fake smiles, shiny shirts, spandex pants, and big grey and white fur boots.
One of the girls with a black shiny tank top and matching fur boots is glaring at her. The nasty tramp with fur boots says something that I can't hear, but I can tell whatever she says bothers Cory. The sweet, shy smile has disappeared and she has her eyes locked on her little note pad.
My chest fills with fire. Damnit Cory. Don’t let them get to you.
I watch as Cory finishes their order and walk quickly to the bar. I intercept her before she walks past me to Beth. I won’t let her cower from them. She is ten times the lady than any of them are.
“Ay! Cory.” I call out.
Cory tries to keep a half smile to appear friendly, but her eyes were glossy. The more I watch Cory struggle, the more irritated I feel.
“Do you need something?” She asks politely, hiding most of the sadness in her voice, but I can see it in her eyes.
“Yep.” I lie, thinking of anything to say. “I need some orders. What do ya got?”
She places her drink holder on the bar and pulls off the top sheet of paper from her note pad having me read the order instead of her telling me, which I prefer. Taking a second look at the order, I contemplate messing with their drinks. It would serve them right the way they treated Cory. But I have not sunk that low since high school.
The last two drinks are dirty martinis but I didn’t make enough. I clean out the shaker about to top off the drinks when I see Cory walking away.
“No wait!” I hold up my hand to stop her.
She slowly turns back around with a question on her face. I look at the drinks but all of them are full.
Which one was low? How did…
Shaking my head, “Nothing. Nevermind.”
Cory drops off the drinks with a bright smile. One that looks genuine. Huh? Maybe she gets over things quickly. I know I should be answering the calls from a patron on the north side of the bar but I can’t help but watch Cory.
She calmly hands out the drinks to the ratty girls at her table and walks away with a smile. Cory walks to another table of guys with white and blue button-up shirts, nice slacks, shiny shoes and loosened ties.
Shysters.
Big mouths, big games, and big time losers.
"Um, bartender?" I hear someone call out, and Beth walks past me with a groan. I watch her take the order before I return my attention to Cory. Cory is trying not to smile as the guys are saying something that is making her giggle.
I hate shysters.
I remind myself that it shouldn’t matter who makes her laugh or cry. She isn’t my business and I really don’t care.
"Hi, Shane." Enora sat on a bar seat to my left, she used to be a waitress here and is full-blooded fairy. She left a few months ago after she finish her degree. Enora is one of the fairies that studied human psychology. She works with enforcers to find other fairies who break fairy law. Kind of like a fairy profiler.
"Hey, how's work?" I ask as I grab the towel from my apron and wipe down the bar in front of her. I mentally slap myself for possibly being caught by a very perceptive fairy, who may have noticed who I was watching a few seconds ago. Not that it should matter because I am absolutely not interested in the shy blonde, but the perception looked bad. Enora knows I don’t date seriously and I never date humans.
"Good." She smiles her enchanting smile that has had me mesmerized from the moment I saw her. Her hair is long and light, strawberry red with dark-brown, reddish eyes. She keeps several braids in her hair with odd strings wrapped around it, like a hippie might. Her freckles are adorable and lightly splattered on her nose but nowhere else. I would know because I have seen every inch of her body.
"Has it been busy?"
I shake my head. "What can I get for you?"
Enora draws her lower lip between her teeth and gives me a knowing look. "I'll take my usual."
I try to smile, but I know the tension in my face is making it strained instead of friendly. Yeah, that's not going to happen. Her usual means she drinks vodka and Redbul
l until closing then I drive her home, then we continue to drink until we fall into her bed adding to the notches we have already put in her head board. A few hours later I drive home.
I shake my head firmly. There is no reason to even act like there is a possibility of that happening.
With a dramatically single eyebrow raised she says, "Fine. I'll just take a vodka and Redbull."
I grab the Grey Goose and begin to pour. "So, how is the new help?" Enora is looking behind me, giving Beth a once over glance.
"As expected. Just started today," I answer, keeping my tone as flat as possible. While she worked here, Enora became an expert at decoding my subtle tones and inflection. Or maybe it is because she is a fairy and they try to control all those little inflections to cover all of their unwanted emotions. They don't like to show their anger or sadness. With fairies you have to pay attention to the small slips and inflections to know how they really feel. Reading people’s subtle inflections and body language is a learned trait. I can read normal humans easily, but fairies are better at watching their emotions and being incredibly polite, so reading them is difficult.
"Oh yeah? Who else started today?" She asks slowly while turning in her seat to scan the room.
I leave the glass in front of her on top of a small, white napkin and walk away. “It’s good to see you Enora.” She knows I don't explain myself to anyone. I don't plan to change tonight. And she knows she was dangerously close to stepping over the line.
"Shane!" I hear Beth call my name. I walk around the bend to the north side and find her face to face with the Douche from last night, with his fists on the bar glaring at Beth with glowing eyes. I let out a bemused breath and ask, "Four beers and a shot of whiskey?"
Hoping that no one else has noticed his eyes, I look around him to make sure. Not that I am their babysitter or a supernatural enforcer, but I just prefer to not exacerbate the issue by allowing others around me to skirt the rules.
The Douche is leaning into the bar, fixing his glare at Beth. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what he wants to do. I jerk my chin to Beth, letting her know to walk away. Contrary to her angry demeanor, she walks away with a small snort of dismissal. Again I notice that she is not fighting me. Possibly another redeeming feature?
The Douche lets out an exaggerated breath. I pull out four Budweisers and reach for the whiskey. He leaves a card on the bar and says, "Keep it open. And," he looked over at Beth and points in her direction, "keep her on a leash." I try not to roll my eyes at the irony of a wolf demanding to keep a human girl on a leash.
I pick up the card as my eye falls on the Nickleback poser sitting alone at a small two person round table, staring at Beth. Then I see Cory walk up to him with her black tray in hand. I can’t help myself from watching to make sure he doesn’t try anything.
Then I hear a loud crash from the south side of the room, knocking me back to my senses. The noise emanated from the table of girls that were wearing too much fur and glitter. All of them were lying on the floor . . . sobbing? I could see each one in tears, and two were hugging each other.
Stunned I watched as the bouncer and Danny, the other waiter, help all the girls up and out the door. When I looked back at Cory I didn’t see any shock or surprise on her face. Not even a hint.
Dammit, that can't be good.
Cory turns back to the poser and holds up her pad and begins writing. Then she starts talking to him again, but he is not looking at her. She pokes him with her pen and I can see something flash in his eyes. Slowly, he looks at her and I can feel the tension in my blood begin to burn. I don’t like the look he is giving her. Werewolves are unpredictable and Cory is an ignorant human who has no idea what she is poking. He nods his head slowly and looks towards Beth again.
I look towards Beth to see if she noticed. Oh she did. She is eyeing him like she wants to put a hot poker through his eye.
Cory finishes writing and heads toward Beth. The poser is watching Beth and I still can't identify the look he has in his eyes, but I cannot rule out that he looks unstable, and yet he looks relatively calm. The problem is, werewolves are tricky people to read. All that wild rage running around in their blood has some serious side effects.
"Hey, babe. How about a Corona and your number?" Some young, punk-guy asks Cory, as she stops at the bar.
"Sorry can’t, bar policy." She says sweetly and way too politely. I let my fire free and imagine the man’s bowel system and squeeze it. The man’s eyes bulge out and he grabs his stomach tightly. I let go of the vision and push my fire back down. I watch as Cory ignores the guy next to her and gives Beth a strange look. Beth shook her head before reading the order Cory has scribbled down.
The guy probably turned twenty-one recently. He has a stupid, drunk smile, greasy, disheveled light auburn-brown hair, sporting an expensive diving watch and a golfing shirt. The rich and stupid I like to call yuppies. It was obvious that he was tossed.
Beth told the guy to sober up and Cory was ignoring his advances once more. Forcing myself to detach from Cory and the scene, I walk to two girls with platinum blond hair.
"Good evening ladies. What can I get for you?" I asked, as I wipe down the condensation from their current drinks that I didn't make.
The one wearing a red halter-top wanted a Bay Breeze and the other blonde, with a silky olive shirt that shows plenty of cleavage, wanted a Whiskey Sour.
I began making the drinks, doing a few spins and grins for the girls. As I top off the Whiskey Sour I turn towards the end of the bar and caught Cory watching me with her lips pressed together. She is ignoring Beth who was placing drinks on her black drink tray. I hold her stare for another heart beat before I winked at her. Averting her eyes, I didn’t miss the blush creeping up her face.
Cory dropped off a few drinks at another table before stopping in front of the poser and sliding two bottles of beer in front of him. He picked up the bottle and took a swig, and spit it out just as fast. Cory didn’t turn around and I didn’t like the conspiracy that was starting to form in my mind.
I was going to have to keep a better eye on Cory. Not that she did much without me noticing. My eyes just found her easily. All night-long I kept a weathered eye on her. I noticed the poser left shortly after he paid for the two beers he didn’t drink. I also noticed that her and Beth kept having little spats when they thought no one was looking. And of course I noticed every single time Beth threatened a patron.
It was a long night indeed.
* * *
The bar is closed. Finally. I wipe my hands on the white towel hanging on my apron and decide to take the trash out while Beth is sweeping the floor. On the way back in I wash my hands in the bathroom before I make my way to the bar to check on Beth. I pull the apron back over my waist and tie it off at the same time Cory walks into me. I see her about to fall so I grab her waist and hold her still.
Blushing, she says, “Thanks.” But she is not looking at me. I would be a liar if I said she doesn’t fit perfectly into my hands. I would be an idiot to not notice how good she feels this close.
I am about to let her go and walk away, but she looks up at me and I am stuck once more. She is holding me with her eyes. It is clear how unsure she is, and yet, I also notice her eyes darkening.
"Hey Carver!" Louie, the bouncer, calls from somewhere behind me, “You forgot to lock the back door.” I don’t miss how tense I feel Cory go in my hands. I reluctantly let go of her waist, and apologize to Louie. Cory is standing like a statue staring at me, as if she is looking at me for the first time.
"Carver?" She repeated, in a whisper.
I smirk, "Shane Carver." Holding back the desire to pull her to the storage room and kiss that look off her face, because right now something is off. Something is different about her and the way she is looking at me, as if I have become her favorite meal. The look is causing a new burn, starting low and hot. If I was able to ignore the pull I had towards her before, I am not going
to be able to ignore it now. Now I have to make a fully conscious effort to take a step back.
Louie walks up to me and grabs my hand in a half hug. It was a customary greeting for Louie. "Hey I saw Enora tonight. Are you still…?" He didn't finish the sentence, letting it hang in the air as if it might offend me he was asking about her.
I shake my head and notice that Cory is no longer in front of me. "Nope. Haven't seen her since she went back home after she graduated." Louie is human and has no idea that Enora is a fairy. She is not as stuck up as the other fairies that won’t even look at another person unless they are the same race. Enora is free to play wherever she wants.
"Ah, so it's cool then, right?" He asks with a hopeful smile and looking past me. I don’t have to see who he is looking at to know that Enora is there. And more possibly, she saw me with Cory. Not that we did anything, or ever would. It’s just that I am sure she saw what I saw.
"Yep it’s cool. You know I don't hold on to anyone."
"Alright then. See you around." Louie gave me another half man hug and walked off. I turn around to look for Cory.
Something is wrong. Every table is cleaned and the chairs are flipped up. Nobody cleans up that fast. I walked to the bar to see what else needs to be done and find everything clean, stacked and organized. This is not normal. This looks a lot like magic.
I looked around and try to reflect on what I knew. First, Beth knew I was something else but didn’t flinch. Second, Beth also was not afraid of werewolves. It’s possible that there are a few humans who know about the other supernatural races. If she is a hunter she would have already tried to kill the wolves and me, so she wasn’t that either. Third is that when Cory said Carver, it was not really a question of curiosity, it a question of validation. I know enough pure bloods when I see them so I am confident that Cory and her sister are not true pure bloods. If by some chance Cory is a Carver she wouldn't be so freaking shy. All the Carvers I know act like me… and… Beth?
The Carver's Magic Page 6