Page 6 of Adrift!
She took another sip. “It’s good. Not too sweet. Did you invent all the other clever drinks tonight?”
He wasn’t surprised she appreciated the hint of bitters. “Yes. Chef Styr told me to go wild.” He smiled the Earther-style expression that had been in the IDA employee orientation materials. “We were supposed to impress the guests on our virgin voyage, to make sure everyone has maximum fun.”
She pulled up one of the stools and propped herself over the mug, her shoulders sagging. “It’s interesting to see an Elnd chef. They don’t even have mouths to eat with.”
A little surprised she’d identified the chef’s species, he nodded. “Chef Styr says lacking a certain capacity is no reason not to learn and enjoy the experience with others.” He wiped a cleaning cloth across the bar though it wasn’t necessary at the moment. “So why did you give up your music?”
She choked on another sip of the tonic, the freckles across her cheeks brighter as she flushed. “I didn’t…” Then she paused, her green eyes narrowing. “I didn’t give up music. Music was just done with me.” The pain in her voice was thicker than all his bitter syrups.
He wanted to reach across the bar, but the way she clenched both hands on her mug, pulling it close, left no room for any other touch. “I don’t know much Earther music beyond what I have in the ship’s entertainment system. If it bothers you, I can remove it. The universe has many other songs.”
After a moment, the set of her shoulders eased. “That’s why I signed up with the IDA.”
Her tone wavered, and his translator flagged her comment as potentially a question. “Not just running away then?”
Her face scrunched. “Maybe a little? I needed something different—and this has beenverydifferent.”
Gently, he noted, “More of those differences you’re seeking can be found over there, with the other IDA guests.”
Leaning back, she shook her head hard enough that her red hair lashed around her shoulders. “No thanks. I already told Felicity, turns out I wasn’t quite ready for such a big step.” Her mouth twisted again, this time almost a smile. “So I’m just going to hide here with you, okay?”
That…shouldn’t make his pulse glitch. His augments tempered most variations in his biological processes. Also, she was a guest and he was staff, and the employee handbook expressly prohibited such involvements.
But since his job involved making the passengers happy…
“If you are only ready to take fuzzy orange steps, that’s a start.”
Her breath was weaker than a derisive snort but stronger than a despondent sigh, at least according to his translator.
After another sip, she rallied with raised eyebrows. “So are you the ship’s unofficial therapist or what?”
“Just the bartender.”
“Of pretend drinks.” Then she winced as if stung by her own sharpness. “Which are really good.”
Part of him wanted to pull back—even farther than the barricade of glassware and professional distance—but his augmented arm was already reaching under the bar for a small flask. Straightening, he tipped it halfway above her mug, waiting for her consent.
She pursed her lips to one side. “That the real stuff?”
“An essence from my own collection.”
Her exhalation this time was definitely a snort. “So youareallowed to flirt with the passengers?”
“Not beyond industry standards.”
A snort plus a sigh. “Lay it on me. That means—”
“I can surmise.” He angled the flask enough for just a few drops.
A fragrance like metallic spice expanded between them. No sweetness for her.
Her nose twitched when she took a sip. “It matches your eyes.”
Why was he watching her so closely? He capped the flask, hiding his tension in the nonchalant movement. “Do you like it? The flavor, I mean.”
After another drink, she paused just long enough that he suspected he wasn’t hiding his tension at all. “It’s…different.”
“Like Chef, I’m intrigued by how differences are perceived.”
