Chapter 4: Broken Glass

Selene woke up with a slight hangover and a headache, feeling like someone stuffed a whole packet of cotton in her ears at her head. But considering her previous experience with alcohol, it was hardly the worst hangover ever.

The only thing that she wished would go away was the sound of the train right by her window. As if the city itself knew that every sound would cause her additional pain. But she didn't want to focus on the headache for now. Yesterday she actually had a pretty good time, and finally felt like the staff members were a little bit more open to her.

She wouldn't call them friends, at least for now. She met the majority of them properly only yesterday. However, it was still a drastic change from the full ignorance that she got during her first week. Besides, she already imagined what her next party would look like. Maybe she would give Luke a chance or get to know others a little bit better.

She quickly made her sleeping space a little bit less chaotic, making a mental note to buy herself a proper bed once she got her paycheck.

This mattress might as well be the death of me, she thought.

The new bartender also didn't forget to check her phone and delete several messages from her family. For some people, her actions could have looked selfish. But she made it abundantly clear that she needed her space. The fact that her parents or her brother didn't accept that space wasn't really her problem.

I'll have to call them, eventually. The thought crossed her mind but didn't stick out in her daily to-do list. She had to worry about today, and other problems would be resolved eventually.

Thomas also promised her she could bartend on her own for at least an hour. He had an errand to run, and Mr. Peters also granted his permission. So it seems like she finally could show herself worthy over the chance she was granted.

Selene quickly packed, recollecting that her uniform was abandoned at the restaurant, and made her way through the morning routine.

Shower. Breakfast. Hair. Makeup. Exit.

The subway trip and her short walk to the restaurant no longer seemed alluring. As if the city was finally showing its true colors.

Not to say that the Brit was always in her rose-colored glasses. People were always good at adapting. She just followed suit, and soon the signature fire escapes, red brick buildings, fire hydrants, and even Hudson would become normality.

What never ceased to amaze her was those double doors adorning the restaurant's entrance that she fell in love with in the first place. Not even the most luxurious marble could impress her more. If she had to compare those doors with anything else, she would probably do so remembering the majestic art or literally a magical wardrobe that leads to Narnia. Except instead, you would be entering the reality of the New York elite.

Sometimes she would simply stand behind the bar and watch women in sparkly dresses and insanely high heels surrounded by men in exquisite suits. The bartender would also catch herself thinking that she could never choose between being like one of those women or stealing one of those fancy suits. I would definitely look gorgeous in a sims black suit, she mused to herself; gender envy could never be more real.

But for now, she felt special simply for opening those navy doors and entering the world of her dreams. It was also enough being just on the verge of society and never quite in it. It was a privilege in its own way.

***

The hours before the shift were normally pretty relaxing. She knew exactly what she had to do, and the bartender got it done. The waiters and the other staff did most of the work. She only had to re-check all the bottles of expensive liquor, see what was left in the cellar, talk a little bit more with Thomas, reread some of the books, heat up the coffee machine, and…

Come to think of it, there was a little bit more to do than she thought. However, she started to enjoy those quiet hours when she could simply hang out around the cellar, picking between French and Italian wines and carefully organizing them.

The time before the shift also signified an important event for all the staff members — lunch.

If you have ever watched those traditional American movies about mean girls or being new to high school, then you know what it feels like to have lunch with a bunch of strangers and try to find yourself a place amongst the crowd. In the first week, the bartender simply decided to skip lunch in favor of studying all the materials. She also had a few sandwiches stuffed neatly in her locker in case she got hungry.

But today felt like the right moment to join the others, especially when she was matched with a bright smile belonging to none other than Rose, of all people.

"You look very chirpy for someone who had five shots yesterday."

Rose, on the other hand, was definitely sporting a pair of under-eye bags barely hidden by her unnecessary bright concealer and an extra layer of foundation.

"I had aspirin before going to bed," replied Selene, carefully assessing available seats and trying to find a place for herself.

But Selene didn't have to worry because she was instantly pulled past rows towards the table where Charlie, Luke, and another dark-skinned waiter she hadn't met before were sitting.

Rose dropped into her chair at Charlie's right, leaving Selene a spot between Luke and the yet-to-be-identified waiter in the signature blue blouse.

"Look who doesn't look even a tiny bit hungover." Charlie greeted Selene with a grin, almost perfectly mirroring Rose's expression. She also looked positively tired, but hardly bothered to mask it with makeup.

"Thank you for taking me out yesterday." The waiter shot her a glance and then offered Selene his hand. "I'm David, by the way," Selene quickly accepted the handshake, smiling at the newcomer. "It seems like I missed one hell of a party."

"I'm Selene, and I believe you didn't really miss a thing."

"Somehow, I doubt that." David shook his hand, gesturing towards Rose, who was too busy with her Americano to notice. "Rose always brings all the trouble."

Selene was about to reply when she noticed another person entering the room. It didn't take her more than a few seconds to identify the dark figure as the chef, who was clearly dressed like he had just entered the restaurant.

He was sporting his signature black clothes, with a cashmere coat, the same style of tight jeans as she noticed before, and yet another sweater.

Carter looked around the room, just barely focusing on anything in particular, before making his way to the sous chef, sitting with another cook near the window.

The sous-chef, Will, pulled him a chair while still talking and gesturing wildly to brighten up his story. Carter accepted the seat and dropped in the chair with an elegance that had no place in such a simple action. Perhaps even 'dropped' was one of the worst ways to describe it.

He perched on that seat like a bird, waiting on the prey or expecting danger. Careful, barely present, and always higher than anyone else.

Selene couldn't hear what was going on, but she clearly saw Carter's lips moving, forming syllables that graced only the ears of those who had been chosen for an audience with him.

Unavailable. Always beyond reach. Teasing. And so fucking tempting.

She also definitely noticed when his eyes caught hers, and she felt like a child caught eating chocolate - guilty, yet still happy with the results. He stared at her for a moment, nothing changing in his features, and Selene had to be the first one to break their eye contact. Carter's gaze was too intense to win a staring contest with him. A second longer and the bartender was sure she could turn into a puddle like the evil witch douched in water.

"… and then we all went home." Selene caught the last part of whatever story Luke was spinning and just in time to catch him leaning towards her and casually putting a hand over her shoulder.

She was trapped by the weight of his body, yet even more immobilized by the social pressure.

Rose and Charlie were clearly staring at Luke's hand, and David just raised an eyebrow, silently shaking his head, before lowering his gaze to scrutinize a cold pancake on his plate.

Luke turned to Selene, copying his yesterday's attempt as if it was his only rehearsed move. He leaned closer, trying to angle himself and catch her lips with his.

But unlike yesterday, the young bartender was more than sober and definitely too occupied by the thoughts of another to accept any sort of physical interaction with anyone. Not to mention her colleague, who was a little bit too insistent.

She also apparently couldn't think clearly because she quickly stood up, pulling a part of the tablecloth along with her.

An abrupt sound of broken porcelain followed, and spilled coffee and smashed leftovers littered the floor in no time. She assessed the scene sheepishly, already feeling every single person turning their heads to look at her. She knew it looked bad.

First, Luke tried to kiss her in public when the relationships between the staff members were clearly forbidden. She signed an exclusive contract confirming that she would avoid all possible relationships with her colleagues.

Selene also understood that the set she just broke probably cost more than her weekly tips, and she had to figure out a way to clean this mess. But the worst part is that out of all the people, she definitely caught the attention of the chef. The former was still sitting in his chair, his head slightly turned to look in her direction.

His hands were tightly shoved in his pockets, and he was still perched on the chair like he was about to leave before the incident happened. His eyes were firmly glued to the ground where the cup and the plate were now broken into several little pieces. But as soon as she relaxed, knowing that he wasn't looking directly at her, he changed the direction of his gaze quickly, almost inhumanly so.

A second later, she felt herself drowning in his cold gaze. It felt like leaving the warm comfort of your home to walk on the lonely street at midnight. No people are present, just crisp air and cold wind piercing your skin until it reaches your bones. And yet, you would still stubbornly walk forward, trying to ignore all those little shivers in favor of trying to find stars hidden by a cloudy sky and city fumes.

It was blazing. Cold. And yet, out of everything she could read, there was no ounce of judgment. Nothing that indicated his irritation.

But then he stood up and headed towards their table.