When a rough-edged bar tender woman meets a perfect, Mr. Right, their lives take a turn for the unexpected. Who would have thought such two, opposite individuals could complete each other?
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The crowd files around him, all ordering drinks he's never heard of, but the bartenders seem to know well. You had to believe him when he said he never drank. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the atmosphere. Everyone here seemed more or less happy, chatting with one another over the music, laughing loudly, grins playing on their faces.
Bryer scrubbed his own with his hand, feeling the faint stubble there. He looked worse for wear and he knew it. Some people around him were avoiding him, slightly, but enough to know he wasn't giving off very good vibes. For the second time, he presses his hands into his eyes, hard enough to see colors dancing behind his eyelids.
The world is in intense color as he pulls his hands away, the bartender in front of him seeming to shine and swirl as he ask him the question he doesn't know the answer to. Drink.
Bryer has to blink a few times to get himself situated, hearing that she can have a break after him. Immediately, he's nervous. "No, uh, it's really fine if you want to go. You guys look all a little busy, you've probably been running around a lot."
Where does she have to run to, Bryer, she's behind a bar. Cursing himself silently, he flashes a small, almost apologetic smile. This is why bars were never his thing.
After a few seconds of racking his brain, he looked up to see her again. Bartenders always had to be attractive, didn't they. 'Guess that would make sense', he thought, finally sitting up straight. "I vodka tonic, then. That's a drink, right?" Another sheepish smile, a bit unsure of himself.
A little while later, as the club began to get busier and busier, the woman finished off her drink, bid a farewell and good luck to the young bartender and thank her for her enjoyable service with a forty dollar tip before getting up from the bar and walking away. With a smile tugging the corners of her mouth, she leaned forward and took the forty bucks and shoved it into her pocket, where the rest of her tips ended up. So far, in just three short hours, Dexlyn had made well over two hundred bucks in tips.
There six bartenders working that night, Dexlyn and Annie being the only two girls. The other four were Mike, who mainly kept to himself, Ryan and Kyle, who were dating, and their boss, Erik. Erik and Dexlyn had actually gotten pretty close during her time working there, just as she and Annie had. If she hadn't been dating James, who Erik actually disliked, she might would have considered dating the guy.
The bar was over crowded with men and women, though it wasn't nearly as chaotic as the stereotypical clubs. Many ordered easy drinks, which made it easier to add in a couple tricks while mixing their drinks, which in turn earned bigger tips. With the six bartenders given plenty of room and evenly spaced out, they were able to keep up with the pace of the crowd, even on a hectic Friday night. Dexlyn called out to Annie and Erik, who were to her let and right, and asked them to take more orders as she began walking the length of the bar to collect the profits and dirty glasses. She piled the cups into a sink filled with warm water and soap and walked down the bar with a damp rag, wiping up any liquids that were sticking to the dark surface.
The DJ switched songs, going from a softer song to a more upbeat one. As soon as she recognized the club version of Tonight I'm Lovin' You, she began dancing, twisting and turning, jumping and swaying, causing her coworkers to laugh and even entertained a few of the customers. Just as she returned back to her area, a young man sat down a few seats away from her. With a huge smile she hopped in front of the man and leaned on the counter, just inches away from the guy.
"You look like you could use a drink," She observed, not unkindly. "First one's on the house," She offered, "What can I get for ya?"
Just as she got her question out Erik called to her: "Dexlyn, take your break after serving this customer!" And in return she gave him a thumbs up and a nod.
"Take your time, I'm in no rush to go on my break." She told him earnestly.
"What do you mean you don't think I'm right for you?"
A small shrug is all his perfectly-justified inquisition earns. As he waits for more, it dawns on him that he isn't going to get any. Ashley crosses her arms over her too-low cut dress and leans back in the too-small chair. In fact, everything about this restaurant is too small. Bryer suddenly feels like a giant- clumsy and awkward.
"Ash, we've only been together for a week. That's hardly even giving me a chance, you haven't even seen
my apartment yet."
"Ever think that's the problem?" She stands up from the table, earning a few concerned looks from the waiters as she simply walks out, leaving Bryer to rub at his eyes with heels of his hands, trying not to scream.
This leads Bryer no where. He should have called a cab like a good little city boy, have the cabbie drive him home, and let that be the end of it. But what should
have been done doesn't register in Bryer's mind at the time.
Instead, he ends up in front of a club, though he wouldn't know it if it weren't for the sign. Not a club of normal standards, but one that people might refer to as the
club as they grab their suit jackets out of the walk-in closet. He's used to these places. It doesn't faze him as he walks through the doors, trying to look presentable as possible, even with his coat rumpled from slouching and hair wind-blown.
It's just that he want alcohol- he doesn't often, so he allows himself this. Heck, he's earned
this. So he sits, relishing in the fact that he won't
get hit on here and he can wallow to his heart's content.
Dexlyn took one last look in the mirror, finally happy with the outfit she chose for work. A pair of dark skinny jeans, a dark purple button up with the sleeves rolled up past her elbows, a black vest, and black combat boots was everything she needed for a uniform; classy but inviting, sexy but appropriate. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a neat messy bun, her make up was done flawlessly; her dark purple eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, and heavy mascara made her dark blue eyes pop. She always made it a point to dress her nicest on the weekends she worked, it grabbed the attention of the many customers, which meant more tips for her.
Most people would hate working Friday nights, but that was Dexy's favorite night. Vanity was the classiest nightclub in the city, the richest people went there to let loose and have fun, not thinking twice about the money they spent. Because of the strict rules and dress code of the club, none of the men or women grabbed at the bartenders, there were no outside beverages allowed, no drugs have ever been brought into the building, and the cops have never been called to break up any fights. With this kind of reputation, and the many buff men throughout the club as security, it created a fun, care-free environment for the customers and the employees.
With her keys and phone in her hands and her wallet in her back pocket, Dexlyn left her apartment. Just as she got the door locked and was heading down the hall towards the parking lot, her phone began to vibrate. A smile formed on the girl's lips as she slid the accept button over and pressed the phone to her ear.
"Hi babe," She greeted her caller, her boyfriend James.
"What are you doing?" He asked, skipping over a greeting.
"Just about to head out, why?" She asked curiously. She headed right towards her truck, which was an odd vehicle to be driving in such a big city. But her 1990 Jeep Comanche was her first vehicle and she intended on keeping it. When she was still in high school, she had put a four inch lift and bigger tires on it, so it wasn't too big of a truck.
"Where are you going and with who?" If anyone were to listen to their conversations, they would assume he was a controlling, possessive boyfriend, but to Dexlyn, he was just protective and caring.
"To work babe, from 5 to midnight, if not later. I told you I worked tonight on Monday and Wednesday."
"No you didn't Dexlyn. I like to know when your shifts are so I know where you're at, I would have remembered."
"I'm sorry baby, I must have thought I told you," She turned the key in the ignition and left the parking lot, heading towards Vanity Nightclub, which was just ten minutes away. "Come over after work?" She asked, hopeful.
"We'll see. Gotta go Dex, love you." But before Dexlyn could say anything, James hung up.
It was nearing eight o'clock, three hours after Dexlyn's shift began, and a huge smile was spread across her face as she mixed a drink for a very wealthy looking woman. She told Dexlyn of her success as a topnotch lawyer, and encouraged the young woman to continue with her dream of being a bartender. Dexlyn loved the night life, loved the alcohol and music, and she loved meeting lots of people. James wasn't so fond of her having this job, since it involved lots of interaction with men, but this was the one thing she wouldn't change for anyone, including James.
There's a picture of her truck in my character profile for her. (:
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