“Long trip,” she remarked, already walking into a nearby arched doorway. “We’ll be fine. Grab me some of that pastry I like while you’re there.” With that she disappeared, leaving us in the impersonal, open-concept room.
“You really don’t have to make a trip—” I cringed with a hushed voice.
“I’ve been meaning to anyway,” he cut me off. “There’s a significantly larger population of my kind in the South. They have many vendors specializing in fire management. I suppose I should invest in some additional safety precautions.”
Is that some roundabout way of telling me he wants to play around again? Wasn’t the morning after a little quick for future preventative measures? Was he hoping to revisit where we left off tonight? My stomach flipped with anticipation. I stared into his cool eyes, searching for a single speck of suggestiveness. They were frustratingly neutral. I would have preferred he slap my ass and tell me I was going to make him burn his house down rather than be so aggravatingly ambiguous.
“You’re going to do great today.” My rampant speculation calmed when he slowly, hesitantly, kissed the top of my head. “I’ll walk you home at thirty-eight hundred.”
Once Graysen was gone, I sat on the far end of the semi-circular couch, running my fingers through the soft hairs of the pelts. I noted a large beige basket of duplicates sitting across the room and wondered if she had a laundry cycle to keep the whites pristine, or if she just pulled out a replacement when one became soiled. I had a hard time picturing Mykie tediously tending to difficult stains in the natural fibers.
Mykie strutted through the threshold, arms filled with clothing. She dropped it unceremoniously in a pile next to me and slouched back on the opposite end of the couch, crossing her long legs.
“Some of those might be too small for you, but you’re welcome to anything. They’re left over from when I tried having some normalcy. I don’t need them anymore.”
“Thank you.” I glanced over the collection of denim, slacks, skirts, blouses, and jackets. Why hadn’t she brought me this when I first arrived? I would’ve felt much more comfortable in her discarded style.
“Don’t dress too nice,” she warned. “Don’t want to draw as much attention to your attire as Graysen did in his button-downs. Just nice enough for tips.”
“I really appreciate it, Mykie.” I fingered through my options, seeking clothes that felt like me. Whoever that was.
“I have some makeup in the bathroom if that’s something you’re interested in,” she offered, pointing to the only actual door, located beside the dim archway to what must be her bedroom.
Trying on clothing made me feel more vulnerable than I expected. Mykie was right, much of it was too small for me. I found my thighs and hips consistently causing trouble with fitted pants. Shirts that I thought might be loose on her contoured around my breasts snugly. About a quarter of what she gave me would be good enough for future use—not a bad haul given the situation. Regardless, the discard pile made me scowl at my reflection. This wasn’t the best confidence boost before a new job.
For today, I picked the best option to rekindle my self-esteem. That happened to be a pair of wide-leg, black silk trousers, and a tan mesh tank top overlaid with a black open shawl. That had to be alright for a bar, right? Besides, my tits looked fantastic. I felt more confident already. As the final touch to my outfit, I re-wrapped my black silk ribbon around my neck and tied its bow so that the fabric ends draped over my left shoulder.
I tinted my lashes and lips with what Mykie had available, noting the time on the watch ticking away on the sink. I officiallyneeded to hurry up and leave soon, so I tugged my boots back on and stepped out to ask Mykie to lead the way. She gave me a toneless “looking good” and escorted me out the door.
Faeryn
“Ah, Faeryn.” Theo finished flipping chairs down from a nearby table and made his way over to where I awkwardly stood by the pub door.
The lower of his two hands shoved into deep light-wash denim pockets, while the others reached out for my own. I attempted to feign confidence, stretching my right arm to deliver my attempt at a firm handshake. From wrist to fingertip, my hand wasn’t even the size of his palm. He folded both of his calloused mitts over mine and smiled warmly.
“Thanks for giving me this opportunity.” I returned his friendly expression easily, although I had to crane my neck to do so. Theo had a casual geniality that felt approachable and safe. How many patrons had found themselves slumped over the counter spilling their guts and feeling like someone was truly listening to them for the first time? I couldn’t imagine a better aura for bartending.
This approachability was in direct conflict with his brutish appearance. He must have been nearly eight feet tall, the width of his muscular body only adding to his overall mass. When I first met Theo, I noticed a long white scar raised through his buzzed brown hair. Now, in a more… attentive mental state, Iwas able to take in the additional rough edges through scattered layers of tattoos. Life had taken its pound of flesh from him, and more. His body told a story of hardship, and it was a miracle that it hadn’t touched his demeanor. His hardened hands were covered in micro scars, like they’d been cut more times than they could recover from. Thick patches of red burns peeked through the watery ink on his forearms. Partially hidden under the neckline of his fitted tank top, I could faintly see a healed pit in his skin. Had he been stabbed? Shot?
“I appreciate the help.” He released my hand and made his way back to prepping tables. I noted a significant limp that wasn’t there before. “One of my team had their last day yesterday. I originally didn’tthinkI’d need the additional hands-on deck, but it looks like I’ll be away more than expected in the new year. Figure I better hire a new bartender or two to cover for me so the team doesn’t mutiny while I’m gone.”
I was relieved to hear confirmation that Theo did, in fact, go on random lengthy excursions like Graysen described. He hadn’t been stalling; their stories matched.
“I’m not very experienced, but I’m a fast learner.” I summoned my most can-do grin. I wasn’tsureI was a fast learner per se, but hell, I had adjusted to an entirely new world somewhat successfully in a matter of weeks. If I wasn’t smart, I was at the very least determined, resilient, and curious. Those qualities could mimic intelligence in a pinch.
“If you can be friendly, set boundaries, and pour a drink, you’ll be fine.” He said, his voice rumbled in his chest. I wondered if his enlarged ribcage was the reason for the way his voice reverberated. His bone structure seemed built to accommodate the weight of his extra limbs, and the bass of his vocals matched that power.
“What can I help with now?” I started flipping chairs on the last remaining table.
“Just get familiar with where things are.” He pulled out a small leather-bound notebook from his pocket and held it out to me. “Take notes in here. I’ve tucked a guide with the recipes you’ll need to know under the cover.”
“Thank you.”
“It’ll be dead the next few hours, so I’m gonna catch up on finances in the office. Damn energy company is making it real difficult to keep the lights on these days, I’m thinking of switching to candlelit dining,” he joked. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to come back and ask. You good for now?”
“I think I’m good.” I nodded, anxiously thumbing the pages I was about to study like my life depended on it.
Theo gave me a quadruple thumbs up and disappeared behind the metal swinging door.
