The Carver's Magic (7 page)

We both watch him walk away, then turn to each other with a similar cold, calculating stare. I speak first, "Didn't know you were looking for a job?"

"I wasn't," she says, eyebrows raised.

"Then what are you doing here?" I fold my arms over my chest and make sure my back is straight.

Her face tilts to the side as she answers, "Does it matter? You need help, and I have the time," her tone is clipped, and she looks at the bar for a half a second before cutting her eyes to the other side of the room, where I know Cory is wiping down tables. Not that I am keeping tabs. I’m not.

"Are you always this cheerful?"

She curls her lips, still not looking at me. "For you? Yes."

I glance up to the roof wondering why everyone I meet I have to hold back the urge to stuff them in a trunk and leave it in the middle of a demolition site.

"Thanks Sal," I hear Cory call out and my eyes dart to see what she is thanking Sal for. Sal was fixing her collar?
What the hell?

Beth asked beside me, "Did you just growl?"

I could feel my hands clenching into a fist. I'm not interested in her sister. She can trust me on that one. "I know she has a fake ID." I turn to Beth hoping to see her squirm. Even though it took me a month to notice the fake name, but that’s beside the point. I should tell Sal so they both get canned and then maybe, just maybe, I can get some peace in my life.

"And yet you kept selling her drinks. What does that say about you?" Beth says in a tone I can't really decipher.

"What does it say about you? You’re making your under aged sister work at a bar." I say accusingly, while leaving her before she has time to answer.

Beth jabs my shoulder as I step up into the bar corral, I almost stumble forward, which pisses me off. I turn around at the same time I feel the fire inside me begin to burn, bringing my magic to the forefront of my mind, waiting for me to give it a command. Beth narrows her eyes but does not move back or look in the least intimidated. The idiot steps up to me and now we are nose to nose. "What it says, is, that you’re about to get slapped, open palmed, in the mouth, because Cory is none of your business." The muscle in her jaw twitched, “And, had you been a better bartender you would have noticed her fake ID a month ago, and if you were a better nosey-ass-bartender you would have found out that today’s her 25th birthday.” Then the smart-mouthed, arrogant, pain in my ass walks away, but not before she pushes past me with a shoulder bump and says under her breath, “I don’t care who you are, or
what
you are. If you mess with her, I will kill you.”

I run my hand through my blonde, curly mess and grab hold of the hair at the back of my neck and squeeze.

“You look tired.” A sweet, soft voice spirals in my ears and my body responds favorably.

Calmer than before, I look down to the sweetest, shy girl blushing lightly. I rub my eyebrow before answering, “I’ve had better days.”

“Want me to make you some coffee before your shift?” Her voice sounds hopeful. “Plus it would be great to get some practice before everyone comes in.” Well how could I turn that down? I mean, she probably really needs to practice. She probably doesn’t know how to do much, let alone serve people with a smile all day. Yeah, I guess I could let her practice on me.

“Sure.”

The corner of her eyes crinkle as she says, “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I watch her walk to the coffee pot and look curiously at the machine. Instead of doing her work for her, I wait to see if she will figure it out.

“Hey. Eyes off my sister,” I hear beside me.

The pugnacious brat standing behind me with her arms folded in a silly attempt to intimidate me. I cock my head to the side. “First, you don’t scare me, so acting like you are some bad ass, that only makes you look stupid and is irritating the hell out of me.” I pause to accent my point. “Second, I am helping Cory to do her job so back up and go finish cutting the oranges and limes.”

Beth’s eyes burned with hatred.

I held her eyes and set my jaw.

“Here you go, Shane,” Cory says.

Beth looks down and frowns. “What is that?”

“Shane looked tired so I made him – HEY!”

Beth had grabbed the coffee and tossed the paper cup in trash and pointed at Cory. “No!”

“Very grown up of you Beth.” I mutter, because I had been looking forward to the coffee.

Beth ignores me all together because she lowered her head so she is in Cory’s face speaking fast and low. Cory is speaking back in the same quick pissy-whisper thing girls do.

Beth leans back and holds out her hand. “Now Cory! I mean it. Give it to me now or we leave.”

Rolling her eyes, Cory pulls out a vile of clear liquid and places it in her sister’s palm.

What the hell?

Cory looks over to me “It’s caffeine mix. You know like the five-hour energy drinks?”

Oh.

Beth grabs the vile and stuffs it in her pants pocket and walks away mumbling something about strangling someone.

Cory pushes stray pieces of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to help.”

She looks so sincere that I can’t believe I am not about to yell at her for trying to juice up my coffee. I let out a slow breath in an attempt to at least look displeased. “Yeah well next time just get a regular coffee. Okay?” I can see her face lighten. It bothers me how much it affects me that she is smiling like that. I wipe my hands down my face, “I gotta go.” And with that I walk around the bar as far away from Cory as I can get, which also means I am, once more, too close to her sister.

It’s not like I need this job, per se. I just need something to keep me occupied. I’m a minimalist and I don’t need much to be content. I don’t need to spend money on traveling because I can do that anytime I want, and I have already seen most of the world. I don’t make huge investments or worry about the stock market because I really, truly, do not care about money. It pays the few bills I have, but the rest I can use my magic for. For example, my new car was all magic.

I am not out to impress anyone. I don’t want to be seen with a big belt buckle, shiny watch, or flashy chain around my neck. I don’t need to have my hair slathered in gel or have my nails buffed and shined. I am a man, with little to no need for most of the materials the world has to offer. I wear dark brown boots that have scuff marks I put there, not purchased. I have faded jeans because I wear them in, not purchase them half-faded with holes. I wear plain, solid color shirts because the thought of wearing anything swirly makes me want to vomit. Yes my hair is curly, but it’s kept short so it’s not ragged. Yes I grow hair on my face and it looks like I have a five o’clock shadow four hours later, but I shave it every day because I have good hygiene. Yes I have hair on my body because shaving it makes me feel like a twelve year old boy whose balls have not dropped. This is how I am, and I will not excuse myself for it.

I will not dress a new way for anyone. I will not change who I am because someone has a problem with me. And I will not let anyone intimidate me. So with that thought, I decided I was not quitting at the end of the night. Instead I am going to push through, and if I were lucky she would quit, or better yet, get fired.

Beth smugly looks me up and down as I walk by. I choose to ignore her and continue to walk back to the stock room to fill the bar and get several white hand towels. I pass a few patrons who are here to start their night off early. A small group heads to one of the tables while two guys head to the bar. I probably should go and take their order because I honestly don’t know if Beth knows what she is doing, but… letting her see that she doesn’t know anything is also very appealing.

Shrugging my shoulders, I continue walking to the stock room. I take my time and look over the glass bottles of alcohol. I pull out a pad of paper from my back pocket and pen from my apron and write down the few bottles we are running low on. Then I do a little re-organizing and, lastly, grab a stack of towels for the bar.

I scan the bar and another group has grabbed a table. Cory is talking to them now. At the bar more guys have sat down and are calling out with their hands in the air to get her attention.

I leave the stack of towels by the cash register while pulling one through my apron belt. I head to the guy with his hand up but Beth gets there first.

"Hey hon, I've never seen you in here before. You new?" I look at the schmo trying to sweet talk Beth.

I resist telling the schmo how eating glass would be easier than trying to warm up to the spoiled brat, but I hold it in. Barely.

“Shane?”

Mentally ignoring how her voice is the sweetest thing I have ever heard, I look down at Cory with a light blush in her cheeks.

“Can I have three cosmos please?”

I like her politeness, a complete opposite from Beth. They must have different parents because they look nothing alike. I nod back at her then grab three martini glasses from the shelf below the bar. I can hear Beth in the background, yelling at someone. I need to hurry because Beth is the kind of girl you want to stuff into a trunk, wrapped in plastic because she’s probably the one who threw a broken bottle at your face.

I place the finished glasses on the bar and Cory moves them to her black holder one by one with her small dainty hands. With a shy smile, she calls out a "Thanks."

"Look, guy, order something or I will hose you." I look over my shoulder, and Beth is holding the soda gun faced at the schmo in a business suit. I want to laugh, and yet, I shake my head to get rid of the mental pictures of her in my trunk. I walk over and calmly take the soda gun from her hand and return it to the holder. I didn’t miss that she let me do it with no resistance. Then I eye the guy in a pinstriped business suit.

“What can I get for you?”

The pinstriped prick looks me over with contempt, as if I am the problem. "Hey, I was talking to the lady,” he whines.

Shocked, I look at him and turn to Beth who half shrugs her right shoulder. I pick back up the soda gun and hand it to her, knowing the chaos will ensure.

Seconds later I hear "Ahh! What the hell was that for?"

Unable to stop myself, I chuckle as I walk to the south side of the bar. I may have to reserve killing her until after her shift. She is definitely a volatile pain in the ass, and I absolutely will end up killing her if we work together for too long, but… she does have one redeeming feature. She does not take shit from anyone, which means tonight is going to either be highly entertaining, or someone is going to call the cops on her. I am hoping for the cuffs.

I looked over the multitude of bodies that have arrived over the past three hours. Some are dancing against each other on the dance floor, and some are sitting at tables watching the dancers on the floor. I scan the tables and stop at Cory, who is taking an order from a table with several women with fake smiles, shiny shirts, spandex pants, and big grey and white fur boots.

One of the girls with a black shiny tank top and matching fur boots is glaring at her. The nasty tramp with fur boots says something that I can't hear, but I can tell whatever she says bothers Cory. The sweet, shy smile has disappeared and she has her eyes locked on her little note pad.

My chest fills with fire.
Damnit Cory. Don’t let them get to you.

I watch as Cory finishes their order and walk quickly to the bar. I intercept her before she walks past me to Beth. I won’t let her cower from them. She is ten times the lady than any of them are.

“Ay! Cory.” I call out.

Cory tries to keep a half smile to appear friendly, but her eyes were glossy. The more I watch Cory struggle, the more irritated I feel.

“Do you need something?” She asks politely, hiding most of the sadness in her voice, but I can see it in her eyes.

“Yep.” I lie, thinking of anything to say. “I need some orders. What do ya got?”

She places her drink holder on the bar and pulls off the top sheet of paper from her note pad having me read the order instead of her telling me, which I prefer. Taking a second look at the order, I contemplate messing with their drinks. It would serve them right the way they treated Cory. But I have not sunk that low since high school.

The last two drinks are dirty martinis but I didn’t make enough. I clean out the shaker about to top off the drinks when I see Cory walking away.

“No wait!” I hold up my hand to stop her.

She slowly turns back around with a question on her face. I look at the drinks but all of them are full.

Which one was low? How did…

Shaking my head, “Nothing. Nevermind.”

Cory drops off the drinks with a bright smile. One that looks genuine. Huh? Maybe she gets over things quickly. I know I should be answering the calls from a patron on the north side of the bar but I can’t help but watch Cory.

She calmly hands out the drinks to the ratty girls at her table and walks away with a smile. Cory walks to another table of guys with white and blue button-up shirts, nice slacks, shiny shoes and loosened ties.

Shysters.

Big mouths, big games, and big time losers.

"Um, bartender?" I hear someone call out, and Beth walks past me with a groan. I watch her take the order before I return my attention to Cory. Cory is trying not to smile as the guys are saying something that is making her giggle.

I hate shysters.

I remind myself that it shouldn’t matter who makes her laugh or cry. She isn’t my business and I really don’t care.

"Hi, Shane." Enora sat on a bar seat to my left, she used to be a waitress here and is full-blooded fairy. She left a few months ago after she finish her degree. Enora is one of the fairies that studied human psychology. She works with enforcers to find other fairies who break fairy law. Kind of like a fairy profiler.

"Hey, how's work?" I ask as I grab the towel from my apron and wipe down the bar in front of her. I mentally slap myself for possibly being caught by a very perceptive fairy, who may have noticed who I was watching a few seconds ago. Not that it should matter because I am absolutely not interested in the shy blonde, but the perception looked bad. Enora knows I don’t date seriously and I never date humans.