Page 105 of Cold-Blooded Creatures
“If you manage today with him, I will make you more coffee later tonight.”
Now that was a promise.
“Deal,” I said to him, and warned Zion, “Don’t do anything stupid, or I’ll add you to the list of people whose asses need to be kicked.”
Which was probably more like an encouragement to him.
“Basically,you write down what they want together with their table number and bring it to the bar to pass the order to the kitchen. Drinks are brought out first, and you can pick them up from this tray. The kitchen will put the food here, so watch out for it.” Jayla pointed to different matte black trays placed in the corner of the rounded bar. The raggedness of the wood below it contrasted with the mottled but smooth top that shone from how many sleeves had polished it over the years. “You bringeverything to the table as it’s being made, and at the end, present them with the bill. If they leave anything behind, those are the tips, and we share them at the end of the night,” Jayla instructed, showing me around Vice and detailing which tables were mine and which were managed by others.
The place was strange during daylight, utterly devoid of people besides the three workers I’d yet to meet shelving bottles of drinks I couldn’t recognize from the green, brown, or clear bottles.
No beats of music coaxed your heartbeats to follow their rhythm, the sound level turned down, the screech of wooden crates being lugged across the squeaky-clean floor overpowering the playing songs. A puddle of water under one of the dark wood bar stools glinted in the light. Someone must’ve missed it.
Before I could point it out, Jayla resumed. “Once you nail this, we’ll move you behind the bar and see if you like it there. Most of us rotate between the bar and the floor on different days, so if you like both, we’ll get you scheduled like that. Any questions?” She popped her hip out and flicked the long braid the color of fire to fall along her spine.
Tying my hair into a bun, I asked, “What about the shows?” I wasn’t sure I was ready to go on stage and spank someone or get them off like that duo had done to Zion. Or do whatever else I hadn’t seen yet.
“Don’t worry about them. We have none tonight, so just focus on getting comfortable on the floor first.” A short woman with eyes the lightest shade of green possible, reminiscent of a tree leaf being brought into the sunlight and becoming half-transparent, extended her hand out to me. “I’m Tarri, by the way.”
“Kali,” I said as we shook hands. Her irises were a soothing shade, and I ticked her on my list of people to trust.
There was something about the color of a person’s eyes and how they crinkled as they looked at you for the first time. Like a sign stating their intentions. And hers gave the impression of sincerity, a wow she’d speak the truth.
“I know. Everyone here knows who you are.”
“Ahm…I’m not sure how to respond to that.” I hadn’t introduced myself to anyone here. Nor met them before, as far as my knowledge carried me.
She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “How often do you think Zion sulks in a corner of closed Vice in the middle of a day and tracks the newcomer’s every step, scrutinizing everyone who passes by her?”
Oh. That.
He had made himself comfortable with his feet propped up on a chair and now was picking his nails with his knife.
“Not like I had a choice,” I grumbled.
Okay, I did. But both of them involved spending the day with one of them, and I refused to follow Gedeon with nothing better to do, like the kitten he’d had as a child.
“I bet you tried to get out of it, but the other one told you to suck it up, from what I’ve heard about him. Now come on, I’ll show you how to make the most popular drinks in case we get flooded in the evening, so you don’t have to wait at the bar. Or Jayla will put you on lugging boxes duty.” Tarri playfully nudged Jayla with her hip, and her blonde hair cut right along her pointed jawline swayed.
“Why did I think it was a good idea to get you working here?” Jayla rapidly tapped a pen with bite marks on its end on her notepad. “He’ll scare away half our customers when they start flirting with her.”
“Because it’s fun and she needs something to do,” Tarri said, then hooked our elbows and pulled me behind the bar.
Two hours later, sweat beads had formed along my hairline. I blew upward to get the unruly strands from sticking to my nose and mouth as Tarri listed the ingredients for the number-whatever cocktail. She’d recited countless recipes off the top of her head while I’d struggled to retain the first five. So when Jayla emerged on the other side of the bar and announced we were opening in ten minutes, relief flooded me.
I slipped away to use the bathroom and splattered my face with cold water to shock my refusing-to-work-anymore brain. Taking a few deep breaths to ready myself, I raised my head to come to terms with my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes shone in emerald. A darker shade of green, like the wristbands in the city. I let my hair out of the bun and ruffled it up, the wall of it as black as Ilasall’s wristbands.
The green and the black—the confines of my cage leeching my life force.
No.
I braced my hands on the sink.
I wasn’t in the city anymore.
I wasnot.
