Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion (53 page)

“
Foxtrot Alpha
…” I whispered under my breath, struggling to say even that.

While the Victoria’s Secret Angel may have been the hottest girl at the restaurant, Foxtrot Alpha was easily the most desirable.  Probably in her late twenties when my friend and I
started working here, she had been gorgeous, with dark, curly brown hair and the biggest brown eyes I had ever seen, along with the largest pair of breasts our teenage eyes had ever seen as well.

My friend and I had
worked out a system of referring to all the hotties that worked here with the code name “foxtrot” and then designated them in order from hottest to least hot using the Greek alphabet.  It was a thing only the mind of a sixteen year old boy could spawn, but we’d been bored, pretentious, and a bit chauvinistic, so what else were we going to do?  I wasn’t even sure I’d known Foxtrot Alpha’s name back when I’d worked here, but it didn’t matter, because then and forever, she would always be Foxtrot Alpha to me.

I looked into her dark, sultry eyes
but couldn’t help but glance down at her purposefully low cut shirt, confirming that her breasts were just as voluptuous as I’d always remembered.  When I glanced back up, she didn’t seem displeased that I’d just checked her out, just impatient that I was wasting her time.

“Let’
s just keep those eyes up here,” she said, leveling her own eyes at me.

I continued to stare, managing only to
whisper again, “Foxtrot Alpha…”

She shook her head, confused.  “I’m not familiar with that drink.  What’s in it?”

“It… you…” Finally, I shook my head and tried to focus, which wasn’t nearly as easy as it should have been.  All of this really was just too much.  “I’m sorry.  It’s just that I haven’t been here in a very long time, so coming back has been kind of surreal.  I used to work here actually.”

“Really?”  She asked
skeptically.  “Are you sure?  I’ve worked here since the place opened a few years back and I’m pretty sure I’d recognize a good looking guy like you.”

“I…” but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.  Deciding to go with another line of thought, I pulled myself up and leaned heavily on my arms
that rested on the bar.  “Look, how about a Long Island Iced Tea, but could you do me a favor and put triple of everything in there?”

“Triple?”  She sa
id in surprise.  “I’m not sure I’m allowed to do that…”

“I swear I’m not a crazy drunk or anything
,” I pleaded.  “It’s just been a rough few months and I could really,
really
, use a drink.”

She looked deeply into my eyes in a way she’d never done when
I was a kid.

“Well,” she s
aid, “you seem harmless enough… and I’m
sure
you’re a good tipper.  Am I right?”

She asked her last question in a way that suggested there was only one answer.

“Right,” I said with a smile.

She
smacked the bar excitedly and got to work.

I sat back on my stool, my smile still in place, and drank
in the moment, ignoring how much I hated the country music blaring from the speakers in the background.  Based on the song that was playing right now, I knew immediately what the next two would be, starting with
The Devil went Down to Georgia
.  They played on a loop, and it had nearly driven me insane back in the day, but now I found it somehow relaxing.  I glanced at the TV and saw football was on, and I grew even happier.

That drink couldn’t come soon enough.

A moment later I heard a toilet flush and I glanced at the bathroom.  An elderly man with a short, neat white beard, wearing obnoxiously short cargo shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and knee high white socks came sauntering from the bathroom like a man proud of his latest achievement in there, but it wasn’t Merlin so I turned back to the TV.  Seconds later, I was joined at the bar by someone, which seemed odd since it was only a quarter full and most patrons sat on their own.

I turned and saw the old man who’d emerged from the bathroom
moments ago.  I analyzed him, looking at him from head to toe.  He looked every bit the tourist, complete with everything from his casual summer apparel to the fanny pack he wore around his waist.  He looked nothing like the old wizard who’d indicated he’d needed to use the bathroom a few minutes ago.

“Merlin?”  I asked,
barely believing my own guess.

“What?”  He asked back, but not because he’d misheard me.

I sighed and turned back to the TV.  “Feel better?”

The old man who looked like pretty much anyone’s
goofy grandfather simply nodded.  “I do actually, thanks for asking.”

“Soap dispense all right?”

“You know what?”  He asked, turning back to the bathroom.  “It did.  Perhaps your friend isn’t working tonight after all.”

“What day is it?”

“What day do you want it to be?”

“
Monday.”

“Then
Monday it is.”

“Then he’s not working today.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Merlin said thankfully.  “I may have splashed myself a little.”

I dropped my head and shook it.  “Let’s drop the shit here, Merlin, or whoever
-the-fuck-you-are.  I’ve bought into this little fantasy of yours long enough.  I don’t have time for this.  I want answers.  Now.”

Before answering, he removed his glasses and wiped them with the edge of his shirt.

“This isn’t my fantasy, Jacob,” he answered.  “It’s yours.”

“Yeah I got that,” I said, glancing back to the hostess station and noticing little Suzie-Lu and Victoria’s Secret talking to each other and giggling in my direction.  I
smiled, finding myself growing more confident, and waved, but they spun away in embarrassment, but then their giggles continued.  I looked back at Merlin.  “That said, I’ve got to admit that I’m enjoying this quite a bit.  Quite.  A.  Bit.”

“I thought you would,” Merlin remarked, “but we’ve only just gotten started.”

“What do you mea…” but I was interrupted by Foxtrot Alpha placing my drink before me.

“There you go, handsome,” she said with a wink.  “Try not to drink it too quickly.”

I smiled thankfully and lifted the large glass off the coaster, placed the straw in my mouth, and drank deeply.  My mouth was awash with flavor, everything from the tea to the sheer quantity of alcohol that clearly made up the majority of the drink.  I pulled away from the straw and coughed violently as the alcohol burned its way down.

I caught Foxtrot Alpha’s eye on the other side of the bar as she entered another drink order into the c
omputer.

“I told you to go slow,” she said with a
wry smile.

I looked back down at the drink and gave it a wide eyed
and impressed look.

“Wow!”  I exclaimed.  “Now that’s
a drink!”

“I’m glad you enjoy it, Jacob,” Merlin commented.

I ignored him and took another long pull, ready for the alcohol this time, and felt the burn go down far more easily.  I sat back contentedly, and then looked over at Merlin who leaned atop the bar from his seated position, looking back at me over his shoulder.

“You don’t understand, Merlin
,” I exclaimed.  “I haven’t had anything even remotely like this in half a decade!  All I’ve had to drink around here is this nasty wine the Romans have!  I’d almost forgotten what something like this could taste like!”

“Oh, I understand, Jacob.  Believe me.”

I ignored him and leaned in for another gulp, and had just about drained half the drink when I noticed something beneath it.  Curious, I lifted the large mug off the coaster and peered at it.  Written there was a phone number, followed by the name: Tiffany.  I glanced up and caught the lovely bartender’s eyes, and she answered my unspoken question by lifting her hand to her head in the ubiquitous “call me” gesture.

I laughed and turned back to Merlin.
  “Well, now I know I’m dreaming.”

“Bartenders don’t usually give out their numbers, do they?”  He answered for me.

“Not usually,” I answered.  “Believe me.  At least not on an asshole’s first visit.”

“Maybe she recognizes you in some way,” Merlin suggested.  “Sees something in you that she appreciates or likes.  Correct me if I’m wrong, but despite those roaming eyes you’ve always had, didn’t you always go out of your way to help her when she needed it?”

I thought about his statement, having honestly forgotten.  But he was right.  I had always been ready and willing to help her when she’d needed it, and not in a creepy kind of way.  She’d always been very nice to me, one of the few people here who had been, and I’d always been very willing to lend her a hand because of it.  Now that I thought about, she’d almost been something of a… friend.

Merlin nodded.  “It’s one of your more admirable qualities, Jacob.
  One of your many admirable qualities, in fact.  Always willing to help those in need.  It’s a shame then that you have so many others that are not quite as venerable.”

I tu
rned an angry look on him, intending to yell at him for saying such a thing, but then thought better of it.

“A good decision, Jacob.”

“Stop that,” I snapped, but then curiosity set in.  “How are you doing that anyway?”

“I’m a wizard, remember?  I can do lots of cool things.”

I was about to yell at him for real this time, but then little Suzie-Lu walked up to me with a basket of freshly baked rolls and a container of cinnamon butter.  She set it down and Merlin eagerly dived into them, but I was distracted by her lingering stare. 

I returned her look evenly. 
“Something wrong?”

She snapped out of her daze and shook her head.  “No, of course not, it’s just that you look super familiar.  Do you have a younger brother or something?”

“No,” I answered.  “I do have a younger sister though.”

“Are you sure?”  She asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” I replied.  “Pretty sure.”

She worked her mouth from side to side in confusion, but then turned away abruptly and rushed back to the hostess station.  I turned back to Merlin, feeling suddenly sad for Suzie-Lu
.  I tried to remember what had driven us apart all those years ago, but like much from that time of my life, I couldn’t remember.

As my stool swiveled around, I discovered that t
he older man had a spoon filled with cinnamon butter in one hand and a roll in the other, his mouth chewing vigorously.  When he swallowed, he bit into the fresh roll and stuck the spoon of butter into his mouth.  It was clean when he removed it.

I cringed.  “You’re supposed to spread the butter on the roll
and
then
eat it.”

He shook his head
vigorously.  “Too inefficient.  This is much better. 
So
much better.”

I stared at him, deadpanned.  “Seriously,
just who the fuck are you?”

He stopped chewing at the question and breathed a deep sigh
, glancing absentmindedly at the coolers filled with beer behind the bar.  I followed his eye, the alcohol from my drink settling in, and I knew immediately what I had to order next, but I was distracted by the sound of Merlin struggling to gulp down what was left of his roll.  I watched as he spooned another glop of the cinnamon butter into his mouth and pick up another roll, but before he bit into it, he turned to me and spoke with his mouth full of butter.

“I’d order another drink if I were you,” he suggested
. “Because we’re going to be here for a while.  Kick back, relax, and block off some time.  This chapter’s going to be a long one…”

***

I’d taken his suggestion to heart and ordered a beer.  Not just any beer, however, but a beer that I knew could never possibly exist in this restaurant.  It was a beer brewed by Augustinian monks in a small brewery/monastery in Austria.  I’d studied abroad in Italy during my junior year in college, but my friends and I had taken more than a few trips up into the rest of Europe.  One in particular had found us finding this small little brewery in the middle of nowhere outside Salzburg.  The monks had invited us in politely, and had offered us their finest of brews.

And it had been the most amazing beer
ever.

There was no way to truly descr
ibe it, except as perfect.  It had the ideal blend of hops, fruitiness, and spices, and my friends and I had drank gallons of it.  The saddest part of that entire semester had been the moment we’d left with the knowledge that the monks didn’t export their beer.

Anywhere.

But when I’d placed my beer order just now, asking for a tall one from the Augustinian Brewery – if that’s even what it was called – Foxtrot Alpha had simply smiled, moved over to the tap, and poured me a beer.  She handed it to me, brushing her hand against mine as she handed it off, and I smiled at her, but it wasn’t until the beer touched my lips that I decided that I was never leaving this fantasy world.