“You bastard,” one of them spat, puffing up his chest as Caitlin and the waitress attempted to calm the goliath of a man. He had long, thinning blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and a dirty, scraggly goatee that left much to be desired. “The asshole thinks he can take what I’ve claimed.”
“Claimed?” the stocky brunette scoffed, “You think you can lay claim to a waitress? We aren’t Vikings. She can choose between the two of us like the civilized people we are.”
Irritation and confusion flooded his system as he tried to understand what could have started this.
“Are you saying you called dibs on the waitress?” Daniel gestured toward the small blond woman whose mascara had begun to trickle down her round face.
“What?” the larger one gaped, “No, that one,” and gestured toward Caitlin.
His stomach revolted at the idea of Caitlin going home with either of these men.
“Then blondie here got involved, and shattered my beer. It was just a harmless headlock, a couple punches among friends, but no-” The large oafish man snarled at the waitress whose name tag readRose.
“You two need to leave, now,” Caitlin said in a low voice, trying her best to mediate the situation. She turned her head towards the blushing waitress for a moment and attempted to soothe her. “Hey, go in the back and calm down, okay? We’ll talk about this later. It’s okay. You’re okay. You're not in trouble.”
The blonde waitress quickly nodded and ran into the back office, unable to hold back a loud, choking sob as she cried, confused and humiliated by the wasted, furious tourists.
“The hell are you defending her for?” the other man, a portly, disheveled man with glasses and wild graying brown hair, blurted out defensively. “You better clean this shit up,” he growled, gesticulating wildly at the broken glass on the floor. “Hey, you even listening to me? Ain’t you the manager? Useless broads!” As Caitlin turned her head back towards the two men, the man with the ponytail shoved past his friend and lifted a hand that he had balled into a fist to strike her.
Daniel, no longer able to stand idle, leapt into action. He darted between them, pushing Caitlin aside as the man’s fist connected with his face. “Goddamn it.” Daniel hissed as Caitlin jumped out of the way, her face contorted into a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and fear.
Rubbing the side of his bruised cheek for a moment, Daniel shook his head as he retaliated, punching the drunkard squarely in the jaw. He fell backward into one of the nearby tables, sending it clattering to the floor and a few of the nearby bar patrons running out the back door.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Caitlin screeched, infuriated at the chaotic scene. The blonde man was on the floor vomiting in between pained groans as his friend stood behind him, mouth hanging open in shock.
“Get back,” Daniel said, pushing Caitlin away and putting himself in between her and the two men. “You could have really hurt yourself dealing with these clowns. You need to be more careful. What do you think you were even doing taking on these two drunk bastards?”
“This is my fucking pub!” Caitlin yelled indignantly, her face red and eyes lit up in fury. “Who the hell do you think you are? I don’t fucking need you to come rescue me like I’m your teenage daughter.”
“I’m not trying to rescue you,” Daniel replied. “I’m just trying to help. This asshole almost knocked you out.” He pointed at the two angry tourists as they looked on in silence, the blonde man still on the floor and reeling from the punch Daniel managed to land. A small amount of vomit dribbled out of the side of his mouth and stained his shirt.
The entire pub had now fallen silent. Other than the two tourists, a few patrons remained, watching Caitlin and Daniel bickering over the two men and the disaster they had left behind. Daniel looked up, noticing the small crowd’s eyes on them.
“All right, everyone. We’re closed. Out.” Daniel raised his voice as he scanned the room. “And you two,” he directed his gaze back at the now-terrified tourists as they began to sober up, “You’re both coming with me.” He grabbed each of them by their collars, dragging them to the back door and throwing them out into the street as they shouted in protest.
The bar’s few remaining guests began awkwardly shuffling out of the building as Caitlin spoke up. “Closed? Excuse me? Who the hell are you to decide when we’re closed?” She crossed her arms and glared at Daniel as he slammed and locked the back door after the drunken, misogynistic tourists. “We’re open,” she proclaimed loudly, “and you sure as hell don’t dictate the way I runmybusiness.”
“I just fucking saved you from that ponytailed douche knocking you out and this is how you react? Really?” Daniel huffed as the bar emptied out. Now only the two of them remained, along with the sobbing waitress sitting in the back room.
Caitlin rolled her eyes and stomped away from him. “Oh, shit. I almost forgot about Rose.” She ran towards the back office, gently knocking on the door before poking her head into the room. “Hey, are you feeling alright? I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you so damn hard-headed?” Daniel demanded after Caitlin as he locked the front door after the last group of guests had exited the building.
Rubbing her temples in frustration, Caitlin took a deep breath and sighed exasperatedly.
“Rose, why don’t you go home? Text me when you get there so I know you’re okay. We’ll talk about this later. Don’t worry about a thing. You’re not fired. You’re not in trouble. Just head home and relax.”
A few moments later, the petite blonde left the office, picking up her purse from under the counter and leaving the pub in silence. Daniel had grabbed a broom and began sweeping up the broken glass that littered the floor; his work was punctuated by irritated grunts and sighs.
Caitlin refused to answer him—at first. She joined him in cleaning the bar in silence, her face nearly as red as her hair in a mixture of embarrassment and rage. As she stomped around the bar furiously tossing beer bottles and shattered shot and martini glasses into the trash, Daniel had to admit to himself that seeing that Irish fire in her was strangely sexy, even though she was clearly trying to hold back from slapping him across the face.
Daniel finally spoke up again after several minutes of tense silence. “Look, I had to do something,” he said quietly yet firmly, trying to stand his ground but feeling more foolish with each second that passed. “What was I supposed to do? Just let you--”
“Yes, just let me,” Caitlin fired back angrily, still refusing to look in Daniel’s direction. “Just let me take care of my bar the way I have done for years. I don’t. Need. Your. Help.” she hissed, punctuating each word by throwing chunks of glass into a nearby trash can.
“Oh, Christ. You’re impossible.” Daniel groaned as he mopped up a puddle of beer and puke beside an overturned table. He paused for a few seconds before continuing. “I understand that men telling you what to do really pisses you off. And I totally get why. I know it comes from the way your dad has been--”
“Shut the fuck up about my dad,” Caitlin interrupted him again through clenched teeth.
