I flash a smile at him as I finish mixing a drink. “Let me get this drink out and I’ll be right with you two.”
The couple sighs but stays put, waiting for me. I quickly hand off the drink on the other side of the bar before turning and opening minifridge after minifridge. There’s bound to be someof the Bloodka in one of these. Julius would’ve made sure we’re well stocked for its launch night.
As I open the last minifridge, I let out a small sigh of relief when I find it packed with Bloodka. Looks like we have every blood type available, too. There are lots of bottles of each, since the liquor is expected to be a hit. I turn and go back toward the couple, both with their eyes still glued to me.
“We do have Bloodka, and every blood type. What can I get for you folks?” I lean on the bar, waiting for them to answer.
The man answers quickly for the both of them, “I’ll have an A-negative Bloodka, and she’ll have an O-negative.”
“Alright, but you know that both of those are going to be a bit more expensive, since they’re rarer blood types?” I ask, but it’s really just to make sure he doesn’t complain when he gets the bill.
He nods and I quickly get to pouring, the smell of blood floating up into my nose. At this point, I’m desensitized to the scent. I’ve mixed enough blood-based cocktails since starting here that it doesn’t faze me anymore.
This new drink smells better than just mixing the contents of a blood bag with regular vodka or other liquor, so I’ll give whoever the creator is props for that. Plus, it saves me the hassle of having to actual mix things; I just pour and go.
“Would you like to start a tab?” I ask the man, sliding the drinks across the bar to them.
The man passes me his card, simply saying, “Raymond.”
I smile and take the card, scribbling down the name and putting the card away in our safe. Julius insists we take the cards of those starting a tab since it ensures that people don’t skip out on their bills. We’ve only had a few people try since he implemented the rule.
As the night goes on, the bar becomes packed to the brim; it honestly might be the most people I’ve ever seen in here. Ceriseand I have barely had a moment to chat, besides the occasional “excuse me” as we bump into one another.
The first full sentences Cerise says to me since we started our shifts are, “Hey, I’m going to take my break now, okay? Everyone has been served on my side. I’ll be quick. I just need like ten minutes to eat something.”
“Sounds good, no rush.” I nod, mentally preparing myself to handle everyone on my own for a bit.
I know that if I need a hand, I can call Julius out and he’ll help. I try to avoid that though, since I know he’s busy managing, well, everything. He’s never gotten mad at us for asking for help, but still.
It’s not that we don’t have enough staff, there are enough bartenders employed that we should never be short-staffed. The issue is he has a few problem employees, at least in my opinion, who call in almost every weekend. That’s why Cerise and I get booked most Fridays and Saturdays; we show up and are efficient. He’s too kind to fire any of the slackers though.
A few people come up to the bar, and I take each of their orders quickly. One of the customers is a large troll who orders five drinks at once. Generally, we limit customers to two drinks at a time, but for some monsters, we make exceptions due to their size.
“Excuse me, can I order a drink?” A silky-smooth male voice floats through the air.
Frustrated with the sudden rush, my tone is much snippier than I want it to be as I blindly call back, “Little busy at the moment, I’ll be right with you.”
Balancing the five drinks, I quickly cross the bar and start sliding them to the troll. He’s the last of the group I need to serve, and once he has all of the glasses in his hands, I take a deep breath and let it out. Now, on to the next person in the never-ending stream of customers.
I turn to where the silky voice came from, preparing to wipe the glare and frown I’m currently sporting. As my eyes find the man and I start to ask what he wants, my breath leaves me. He’s stunning, and I mean drop-dead gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man this attractive in person before.
He wears a dark-gray suit, a white dress shirt underneath, topped off with a red tie. He’s very pale, with dark-brown hair and jade-green eyes that pop. His jawline is strong and lips are full, even with the smirk he has on.
“What can I get for you?” I clear my throat, dragging my eyes from his lips, putting on my classic customer-service smile.
The man doesn’t even try to hide his enjoyment from my reaction, leaning on the bar silently. I raise a brow and plant my hands on the bar opposite him, tapping my fingers impatiently and letting my smile begin to fade away. This earns a chuckle from him, flowing out just as smoothly as his voice.
“A glass of Bloodka, please,” he politely requests, his eyes not leaving mine.
Not breaking his intense gaze, I ask, “What type? We’re getting low on some.”
“I’ll have whatever your blood type is,” he quickly responds, looking me up and down.
I shake my head and sigh. “You can’t afford that level of service, baby. Choose a blood type, or I’ll move onto the next customer.”
The man’s smile grows at my response, staring at me without saying a word, fueling my impatience. Can’t this guy see I have other customers to serve? He’s wasting my time, and I’m the only bartender out here right now.
“AB-negative, please,” he answers, right as I start to turn away.
