Irritated, I grabbed the green vodka and filled a glass. I wanted to keep my eye on the tip boxes, and that meant not abandoning my station. “Hey, can you tickle this?” I asked the blond bartender on the opposite side of the bar. I could see her through the gaps in the center shelves. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Busy,” she said tersely.
Yep. She was giving me the cold shoulder.
“Just put your fucking finger in the glass. Pretty please.”
“You mean this finger?” She gave me the middle finger before serving a large order.
I grumbled and headed back to deliver my virgin drink to the Viking.
“Whiskey on the rocks!” someone called out.
I poured drinks, moved fast, and collected my tips like a robot.
“Hey, are you trying to screw me over?” the Viking asked. “This isn’t spiked.”
“I said you’ll have to wait,” I fired back.
“You can’t just serve me a virgin drink and expect to get away with it.”
As he looked for another bartender, I noticed the leather collar on his neck. Viktordidsay I needed to stand out. I put my hands on the counter and glowered. “You’ll take whatever the hell I give you.”
He furrowed his brow. “Do you think I’m gonna pay for it?”
I leaned in and locked eyes with him. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for it. And when you finish that glass like a good boy, you’re going to order another. If you’ve got a problem with taking orders, you can lick my boots.”
His lips parted, and he slowly downed his drink.
“That goes for anyone else,” I said, speaking to the onlookers who weren’t used to seeing the bartender lose their shit. “Until Simone gets back, you’ll take whatever the hell I give you. I’m in charge here. If anyone decides to stiff me on a tip, I’ll hurt you so bad that you’ll scream like a newborn.”
People surrounded the bar, and a line formed.
“I’ll have a beer,” the next man said.
I filled a glass and set it on a napkin.
“I wanted a bottle,” he said meekly, his pupils dilated.
I lifted his glass and gulped it down. “When you learn how to behave, I’ll give you a refill. Next!”
He left bills on the bar before hurrying off to a nearby table. The next man approached and wanted a whiskey sour. Instead, I grabbed whiskey, ice, bitters, lemon, and a sugar cube.
“That’s not a sour,” he said glumly.
I set the old-fashioned on a napkin. “That drink isn’t you.Thisis you. Understood?”
With a salacious glint in his eyes, he left me a stack of bills and trotted off with his drink.
Before I knew it, handlers were standing in line with leashed customers. I was attracting a certain type of crowd, and they tipped whatever I asked them to tip.
After some time, Flynn stopped by and rested his inked arms on the bar. “You’ve got a knack for this. Simone won’t like you stealing all the good tips.”
“I doubt I’m the first who’s ever done this,” I said while cleaning a glass.
“Most people here like their job, and they follow the rules so they won’t get fired. That usually means not yelling at the customers.” He wagged his finger at me. “You’re a rebel.”
“So I’ve been told.”
