I roll my eyes and scoff. “You can only buy one of those things. I’ll get your drink in a moment.”
His words linger in my mind as I mix up drinks. A date? He definitely just wants to fuck and thinks that a date will get him some. Someone as rich as he is, at least as rich as I think he is, wouldn’t date a bartender from downtown New Bria. He’s going to be just like any other rich guy.
As I pour his drink, he pipes up again, asking a stupid question. “So have you tried the Bloodka?”
My brows furrow as I shoot him a confused look over my shoulder. “Of course not, I’m not a vampire.”
He shrugs off my blatant dismissal. “Some humans have tried it here tonight. Would you drink it if it was fake blood?”
I shake my head as I turn and slide him his drink. “No, and that kind of defeats the point of it, doesn’t it?”
“How so?” Emris takes a sip from his new glass, his eyes not leaving me.
A chill runs down my spine. Is he imagining drinking from me when he drinks that? I usually kick vampires or demons away from the bar if they act like that. A rich man can get away with it, though, only because of the tip I’m expecting.
“Well, it’s literally called Bloodka, it’s supposed to have blood in it. It’s designed for vampires and some demons,” I explain, becoming exasperated. “If the creator were to make a blood-free version, they wouldn’t be appealing to their target market, now would they? Besides, most humans don’t like the taste of blood.”
He grins, showing his perfect pearly whites and fangs. I can’t help but look at his fangs. You can tell a lot about a vampire by the state of their fangs.
Vampires with large, sharp fangs are generally good, law-abiding people. Vampires with short, broken, chipped, or dull fangs are usually a sign of trouble. All those are signs of drinking from unwilling participants, which is illegal.
Emris having perfect teeth and fangs is a good sign, for me at least. It means he probably won’t try and force anything from me, which I was slightly worried about from his earlier question about my blood type.
“Don’t you think that for the brand to expand, they need to hit more markets?” he counters, starting to wear me down.
I hang my head for a moment before parking myself directly across from him, gripping the edge of the bar. “Shouldn’t they just focus on building loyalty in their target market first? Like, they should release new drinks that appeal to their desired market, keep them buying. Plus, wouldn’t their future markets be other monsters first? Since it’s kinda related.”
“Did you go to school for marketing?” He laughs, taking another sip of his drink.
Shaking my head, I answer, “No, I’ve just been a bartender for four years. You pick up some knowledge over the years. If you could call it that…it’s really just my opinion.”
“Maybe you should consider it. I think you could do well in a marketing position.”
I push off of the bar, muttering, “If only it was that easy.”
A man like him wouldn’t understand that schooling is expensive and time-consuming. I can’t afford to go to school and pay my rent, and I wouldn’t have the time for school while working full time. It’s out of the question for me.
Maybe I’m taking this too seriously. I can have a conversation with a customer and keep my emotions out of it. Something about him is hitting a nerve in me, though. A few, actually. He’s making my blood begin to boil, but every time heopens his mouth, I get butterflies between my thighs. His voice is melodic.
My stomach growls, making me realize I haven’t had my break yet. Maybe that’s why he’s getting to me, because I’m hungry. That’s what it is, I’m sure. It’s not him, it’s me. Wow, that might be the first time I’ve ever thought that.
I make my way over to Cerise, leaning close to tell her, “I’m going to take my break, I’m getting hangry and the hottie is annoying me.”
“Sounds good, take your time, it’s starting to slow down a bit.” Cerise shoots me a smile before turning and continuing to converse with a customer.
As I walk away from the bar, I keep my eyes focused straight ahead, ignoring the gaze of the suited man as I pass. My break is my time. I’m not using it up talking to some man I won’t ever see again after tonight. That, and I don’t want to feed the ego he clearly has.
I make my way through the back, grabbing a bag of peanuts on my way out. Julius doesn’t offer a lot of foods here, since his main customer base doesn’t eat human food. He lets all of his human employees have free food on break, at least.
The cool, fresh air hits my face as I enter the alley. I take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out. The quiet is a nice change from the constant noise and ruckus inside the bar, a moment to mentally recharge.
I pull open the bag of peanuts, reaching in to grab a handful. My mouth waters as I pop the snack into my mouth, the salt melting across my tongue. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. I sit on the plastic chair we keep right by the door, working my way through the peanuts.
The door flies open, startling me and causing me to spill peanuts all over myself and the ground. I sigh, staring into my now-empty bag. There goes my snack for the night. Turning myhead and frowning, I look to see who’s disturbing my moment of peace.
Julius looks down at me frantically, his usual calm demeanor replaced with urgency. “There you are. Why would you take your break right now?”
“What? It’s not that busy in there. Did a rush come in?” I question, pushing up out of the chair.
