Jamie and Anders are newcomers. They’ve been showing up at least every other night for the past two weeks. Anders seemed like a broody grump at first, but Jamie, and a few drinks, helped loosen him up.
“So good!” Jamie says. “This may be the best Cosmo I’ve ever had!”
My face lights up with pride. “Thanks. Glad to hear it.”
“How long have you lived in the city?” Anders asks.
“All my life,” I answer. “How about you?”
“Just moved here myself. Me and my twin.”
Dear God, he has a twin? Is he single?
Nope. Doesn’t matter. No more relationships for me.
“Where from?”
“Iceland,” Jamie chimes in. “Ever been?”
I had noticed Anders’s intriguing accent, but I hadn’t been able to place it.
“Wow, that’s exciting. Can’t say I’ve thought of visiting.”
“Would you be open to showing my twin around the city in your spare time? Jamie and I have busy schedules, or we would offer.”
That sounds fun. “Sure,” I say. It would be nice to meet someone new and do something outside of work for a change. “Give him my number. My evenings are busy but my weekends are free.”
“Thank you,” Anders says, smiling gratefully. “He’s a good man, my brother. A bit thickheaded.”
Jamie laughs. “Not everyone can be as perfect as you.”
I give Anders my number so he can pass it along to his brother. My shift gets busier after that, so I’m not able to chat much, and Jamie and Anders leave before my shift is done. Craving a warm bed, I drag myself home and all but collapse.
When I wake up the next day, there’s a message on my phone from a new number.
Greetings. I am Anders’s brother. Thank you for your kind offer.
No problem! This’ll be fun. Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to see?
Do you know of any mead halls?
Mead halls? I guess that’s something they have in Iceland.
We don’t have mead halls, but I bet I can find a place that serves mead.
Sounds like he’s feeling homesick.
After a quick Google Maps search, I find not only a place that serves mead, but it’s also Viking themed. It sounds fun.
We make plans to meet at the bar around noon.
I spend the rest of my morning getting ready for the day and brainstorming interesting places we could go. I think I have a pretty good plan by the time I leave the house and ride the train over to Hell’s Kitchen, where the bar’s supposed to be.
The bar, Valhalla, is nestled amongst a whole block full of bars, mostly catering to the LGBTQ community. It surestands out with a name like that. The interior is as cool as I’d hoped it would be, full of Viking-esque decor and horned helmets on the walls. It’s like I walked into a mead hall from the Viking era.
“Soren?”
That voice… It can’t be…
