Bartenda

When I opened my eyes, the wonderful aroma entered my nose. Following the scent, I entered the kitchen and saw the two young men finishing up the meal. I could not help but to envy their ability to make so many varieties of cuisines. I am not terrible but neither am I good enough to have their talent.

What I am good at are soups, tea making, conversing and a few selected dishes. Not like them.

I can also do first aid, something my mother demanded I learn, and since she also demanded I learn needlework, I can stitch up a person as well as I can sew an entire dress.

Childhood?

What was that?

Lessons were my life, to be the perfect wife. Study at a private school as proof I am an elite.

Even though I am a freak. That family still valued me. That man still did not reject me.

Pity, really, such a pity.

"Why are you staring off into space?" Theodore spoke close to me. I could smell the cranberry scent from his shower gel. I smiled because it was one, I had made for him. His brother loved the scent of apples, while I prefer vanilla. Sometimes, when I wanted to change, I would use a few drops of theirs.

"Sorry, I am just thinking about what was said today." I mumbled in reply, a lie, but they don't have to know that. Ibrahim seemed to see through me because he commanded from where he stood, "Think about it later, come and eat."

"Have the soup first to help you digest. The main course will be ready in five." Theodore said with a smile soon after. His entire face lit up, showing two deep dimples. I almost dropped the spoon I had previously picked up in my hand. How can a man be so gorgeous?

Feeling shy, I bowed my head and focused on the soup placed before me. What I did not see was the smirk that Theodore had on his face.

I stayed with the brothers until I had to leave for work. With an extra change of clothes, I bid the two goodbye when they dropped me off. The week went by smoothly unless they told me they need to return home for a few days but will be back in time for graduation.

At work that night, working at the club behind the bar, I served the drinks as per usual, accepting the tips while ignoring the guys and some girls who tried to extract my number or social media information. With a few words, I sent them on their way, though, until one guy appeared before me and ordered.

"Hello, bartender. Give me the local beer." His voice could enthral a woman. I moved like a robot, refusing to look at him as I served him. I could describe the hand that held the bottle as well, knotted, smooth, and long. "There you go, sir."

"Thank you. Keep the change."

A local beer was cheap, at most six dollars a bottle, but with two hundred-dollar bills. Well, this is a surprise and a huge tip. "Thank you for your patronage."

The man stayed by the bar, because I refuse to look at his face. I did not see how those eyes fell on my form as if they wanted to devour me, nor did I realise that this man was familiar.

"Hey Gooder. The girls look good tonight. You know you could-"

"Brian, I am not about this life. Do not bring it up. What do you want? A bottle of Jack? Tim or local rum?"

"Cha, why you gotta be so? Such a pretty thing like you-"

I rolled my eyes at him, ignoring the rest of his sentence. Geez. This guy is like a walking caramel chocolate, smooth light caramel skin, hair cut and lined, his nose was wide but high, on anyone else they would have never been able to pull off that gorgeous look but with this man who had chocolate eyes, full lips and a sharp jawline... Sexy utterly sexy. If you add in the fact his V-neck shirts outline a chest even men would kill to have then yes gorgeous.

The downside?

He is a man whore.

Not in a bad way, just. He grabs, slaps and talks to the dancers and also takes up a private room every now and again.

"Hey leave her. Hey Gooder, give me a bottle of Jack and Tim. A bucket of ice and four crystal glasses." The man in question sat beside the former, speaking up in his deep timber tone. I nodded, walking away to do as he bid.

His friend is more like a wet dream and a darker version. Dark chocolate is my nickname for him. Together I combine the two in my head calling them Twix.

From what I had heard, he was a hockey player—both were. His friend, known as 'bear' to his friends, stood at six foot six, broad shoulders and a full head of curly hair and the prettiest eyes I have ever seen on a man. Maybe it was because he had dark skin? The clash of colour with a darker tone is usually extremely attractive, but I suppose it is just me. "Here you go, or do you want me to bring it to your private room?" I asked, passing over the bottles, bucket with ice, and the crystal glasses. The money was handed over. Counting it, I turned to total it up at the cash register and bring back the change, but the two shook their head. Shoving it in the purse around my waist, I spared the two a close-lipped smile. "So, do you want me to help or not?"

"Nah, we good."

"Alright then. Enjoy the rest of your night guys."

"It will be better if you would join us for a drink." I watched him disapprovingly for a moment before another customer called. "Bartenda. Order!"

----

Notes:

As you guys can already tell, this book is island themed, in the first part. Some words will be written to better bring out their accent and language.

The first arc should have 20-50 chapters. I am not sure if I will extend much so it should be 25 max for the first arc before the main storyline begins.

Please note, if you have not already have; female lead will have personal point of view. All others will have third pov.

Since this book is part of the writing prompt contest, do not forget to vote my lovelies~