Page 23 of Back Room Host

“So?” I asked, pretending to be casual. “What do you say? My offer still stands.”

“What offer?” Juri asked. “You seem to have forgotten that I made you an offer.”

“Maybe, but as I see it, we’re still negotiating.”

“Aha.” He laughed in amusement. “And what exactly was your offer again? To inspire you sounds more like a job to me.”

“Yes, I’ve neglected to accommodate you in any way,” I admitted slyly. “Is there nothing I could pay you with? I mean, 180 an hour is quite a lot!”

“It’s a matter of perspective.”

“You don’t need to do anything. You don’t have to play the clown. You can just be yourself and keep me company. We can chat and have a drink. I’ll pay for your beer.”

The intensity in his stare made me feel like he wanted to say yes. There was an attraction between us that he simply couldn’t deny. Something I had never experienced myself.

“Alright, 110,” he said.

I was utterly shocked, gaping at him.

How audacious is he? Or is he just a tough nut to crack?

“He’s in!” said the guy with the dog collar next to him, putting his arm around Juri’s shoulder. “No matter what he said before. He doesn’t mean it. He’s in.”

“Stay out of this, Clé,” Juri hissed, pushing him away.

“Hi! I’m Clémens!” He extended his hand in greeting. “And if he gives you any trouble, come to me.”

I set the two whiskey colas on the counter and glanced over at Clémens, bewildered. Juri shook his head with a hint of annoyance, grabbed his glass, and disappeared into the crowd. Clé pulled out his wallet and gave me a knowing look. I scanned the bar for Juri, only to find him already back on the dance floor.

“Is he okay?” I asked as I handed Clé the change.

“You’re unsettling him,” he answered and pocketed the money.

I took that as a compliment and smiled faintly. Did that mean Juri was considering my offer? Maybe my chances weren’t as bad as I thought. “I’m serious about this,” I said. Maybe Clé could convince Juri.

“You don’t even know him. That’s a bit superficial. Are you even aware of that?”

His words felt like a blow, and I struggled not to falter. “M-maybe, but that’s why I want to talk to him. Why did you say that? That he’s in?”

“Oh, he doesn’t even know what he wants. Ever since that thing last week, he’s completely lost at sea. I don’t even quite understand what you want from him, but you seem somewhat honest, so …” Shrugging, he took his glass and joined Juri on the dance floor. Juri was already moving there like in a trance, in slow, gliding movements.

I had no idea what to make of this Clé, but one thing was clear: He was my ticket to Juri. As I turned around, Daniel emerged in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped at me. “There are dozens of people waiting at your station!”

“That … was important!” I managed to get out.

I hurried back to the other side. I had a lot to do, but I kept searching for Juri. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen, so I resigned myself to the fact that he had probably already gone home.

At half past two, the rush subsided, and the dance floor emptied.

“You can close your station,” Daniel said. “I’ll finish up here.”

I cleaned up my bar area and did the accounting in the back office. Afterward, I grabbed my jacket and said goodbye to the staff. I left the main room and descended the wide staircase toward the exit. As I turned the corner onto the intermediate landing, I witnessed a Billy Idol lookalike shoving Juri on the stairway. There was no sign of Clé, and Juri was just one step away from tumbling down the stairs backward.

The guy with the hydrogen blond spiky haircut towered over Juri by half a head and glared with anger. For Juri, this wasn’t a reason to keep quiet. He slurred back with a heavy tongue.

“Leave me alone, you bastard! Send me a WhatsApp message, then I can officially reject you. Oh no! Wait! I blocked you!”

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