“Don’t you know?” Daniel asked, cocking his head to the side curiously. “Your father invited my family for dinner. Did you forget about me so soon?” He pulled his waterlogged trench coat off his shoulders and threw it over the stool beside him recklessly as he sat down at the bar.
“Oh, certainly not,” Caitlin responded, angrily grabbing the mop and bucket from the supply closet nearby, preparing to clean up after the monsoon that Daniel had brought into the pub with him. “I was just hoping you’d maybe sit this one out after the way we got along so swimmingly last time.” Again, her voice dripped with sarcasm as she stood in front of him with her arms crossed tightly. She looked up at him, enraged, her normally cool green eyes taking on a fiery appearance.
“Ah, that’s just typical family stuff, you know? Of course we’re going to disagree every now and then.” Daniel smirked, his signature dimple displaying prominently on his right cheek.
“That’s funny, because last time I checked,” Caitlin answered frustratedly, “We were not family.” She walked behind the bar and poured herself a shot, tossing it back forcefully, deciding she’d mop once she’d had a little scotch to dull the fire that burned within her.
“I’m already driving you to drink, eh?” Daniel chided, his handsome face sending her pulse racing, which only infuriated her more. “Matter of fact, why don’t you pour me one as well to warm my cold bones? Put it on my tab?”
Caitlin rolled her eyes, grabbing a second shot glass and slamming it onto the counter in front of him. “Put it on your tab,” she grumbled to herself. “Ridiculous.” She stomped over to the many bottles of whiskey that lined the back wall.
“Can you pour me a--” Daniel started, but the fiery redhead promptly cut him off as he spoke.
“You’ll have whatever the hell I give you,” she spat, reaching for the cheapest variety of whiskey on the shelf. “And you’ll like it. Not like you’re going to pay for it anyway.”
“Jeez. You’d think I was the enemy or something,” the water-soaked man scoffed. A steady stream of rain droplets fell off of his shirt sleeve and pooled onto the table.
“You have been since childhood.”
“You seem to forget you were a brat growing up too, hm?”
“Only in response to your cruelty,” Caitlin shot back as she poured him a small shot of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Honey, “We were kids. I grew up.Youseem to still think you’re a child.” She stood against the back wall behind the counter stock still as she watched Daniel get comfortable, invading the very space that was sacred to her, her father’s pub.
An awkward silence fell over them as he threw back what she knew to be one of the most revolting brands of whiskey on the market. He scowled down at the empty shot glass as the rain pounded against the roof of the aging building. “This is disgusting, don’t you have Jameson back there?”
“Are you here just for dinner? You’ll be leaving afterwards, I hope?” Caitlin asked as she hastily poured herself a shot of Red Breast Irish Whiskey, which was, in her opinion the best on the market.
“Can I have some of that?” he asked as she began to pace angrily behind the counter like a rat in a cage.
“No.”
“Actually, I think I’ll be staying for a while,” the smug young man replied coolly. “I’ll get to see my Sophie.” His voice became a bit softer upon mentioning his sister.
Caitlin relaxed slightly as well, thinking fondly of her soft-spoken best friend and how excited she would be to see her brother after all this time, “At least there’s one good thing about this situation.” She sighed before jumping nervously at another loud clap of thunder that echoed from outside.
“Scared of a little thunder?” Daniel teased, tapping his shot glass on the counter. “Also, another, pretty please?” He looked up at Caitlin, his striking blue eyes seeming to bore into her soul.
“Oh, sure, just make yourself at home, Danny,” Caitlin said gruffly, her Irish accent becoming more prominent the more irritated she became. Still, she hesitantly complied and poured the man another shot of the budget whiskey. “You’re lucky we’ve been trying to get rid of this stuff for a while.”
“Yeah, I must admit, it’s not very good,” Daniel said, his face puckering slightly at the taste of the cheap booze. “Look, here, I don’t actually want free liquor. I was just yanking your chain a bit.” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and placed a few bills on the counter. “Happy? Now, can you pour me something that isn’t going to burn a hole in my stomach?”
Snatching the money from his hands before it even touched the counter, Caitlin stuffed the cash into her pocket, making a mental note to put it in the register later. “I’m charging you an extra fee for making such a damned mess after closing time, by the way.”
This time, Daniel rolled his eyes, running a hand through his soaked hair. “What a lovely way to treat an old family friend. Your father wouldn’t do this to me, you know.”
“We’re not friends,” Caitlin said flatly, turning to grab a higher-quality bottle of Irish whiskey from the shelf behind her. “I know my dad loves you and all, but I see right through your bullshit.”
Daniel sighed, “It’s funny that you see yourself as a victim here, considering you were just as nasty and cruel to me growing up. We were kids, Caitlin.” He threw up his hands and shrugged.
“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure you’re still a child, actually,” Caitlin replied, watching the man across from her finish his whiskey and grab his coat from the table beside him. “An overgrown child.”
A moment passed as the two refused to look at each other. Daniel stared at his feet somewhat while Caitlin’s gaze stayed fixed upon the shot glass in her hand. “Well, on that note,” he finally spoke up, clearing his throat. “I’m going to, erm, head out. As always, it was...just lovely seeing you again.”
Caitlin huffed, still not responding to the man’s attempts to smooth over their painful history. A charming smile did nothing to wash away the memories of torment.
Daniel pulled another crumpled bill out of his pocket and placed it on the counter as he stood up, his expression softening into a sympathetic look. “Hey, I’m actually sorry for the mess I’ve made, okay? Like, both literally and figuratively. Here’s a tip or whatever. We’re going to have to deal with each other for a while, so you’ll need to get used to me.”
“How long is a while?” she asked as Daniel put on his coat and grabbed his umbrella.
