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Slàinte Bar
270 Centre St New York, NY 10013
The music was too loud, the people were too crazy, the lights were too bright, and her temples pounded too hard. Cadee usually liked her job and she loved the Slàinte, but tonight wasn’t the best of nights. *And it’s just Monday,* she told to herself, still two days to go till her free night.
It was unusual for Cadee to feel even slightly unwell, her constitution was literally waterproof, but today wasn’t the best of days. It didn’t help that Angus had needed to run some errand or other, and she had to stay at the bar. *But I love the bar,* she spoke to herself again. Well, she loved the bar, but not the annoying drunken customers, and that was probably it.
She smiled to the man in front of her, a young yuppie with sandy hair and bright eyes while she served him another whisky on the rocks; he thanked her absently and continued talking business to the guy next to him. She quickly checked the rest of the bar, but it seemed everybody was content, even the bothersome one, so she relaxed a bit.
“Hey, precious!”
*Damn, you’re an optimist, Cadee*, she thought, as she put on her best bartender smile and walked towards the other end of the bar, where the man sat. She had positioned herself the farthest from him, but duty called.
Cadee could recognize bothersome customers right away; after all, she had been a waitress for many years, and most of them she could manage without much trouble. But she could also recognize the troublesome ones. And he was one of them. Drunk, too.
“It’s Cadee,” she replied, a little too sweetly. “I think I told you a couple of times already. What can I do for you?”
The man pushed one of the drinks in front of him towards her, “you can accept me a drink, I bought it for you.”
Cadee sighed. “I already told you I can’t drink with you. Policy.”
“That’s the problem? Tell me what time you get off then. We can have a drink then.”
It was not an unusual dialogue for a pretty waitress like her, she had been invited drinks countless times, and she always declined in a polite and friendly way, it wasn’t good for tips to go antagonizing customers, after all. However, this one was different. The man had an intense quality that repelled Cadee, she was sure something was off with him.
At that moment another customer called her from the other end of the bar. “I’m sorry, I have to go.” She said and walked away quickly.
As she handed the customer a pair of Guinness longnecks, she noticed a man walking towards the bar, scanning the seats to find one. *Nice bod, boy. Can’t deny this job is nice to the eyes.*
A hand in her wrist startled her, and she saw that the off-guy had followed her from his spot. “If you weren’t to drink with me, why let me buy the booze?” he said, while he squeezed her arm.
Logan was pissed; nowhere in the damned bar was a brutish bartender with flaming red hair. "Just my luck..." he mumbled to himself, stopping short when he noticed just who was bartending. The girl was fit...really fit, the type that attracted creeps like the one following her across the bar.
"Hey buddy, how about you take a seat alright," Logan said, as he pulled up one of the stools at the bar.
"And why don’t you mind your own business," the man slurred back, still holding on to Cadee's arm.
"I'm not asking brother," Logan replied calmly.
Temporarily forgetting about Cadee, the man trampled over to where Logan was sitting. "Oh you're not asking," he mocked. "What? you a big tough guy? Why don’t you do something about it, tough guy?"
Logan kept his cool, never rising from his stool. He wanted to clock the guy, but he was drunk after all. "Listen, why don't you just calm down, take a seat and enjoy your drink alright?"
"You fucking loser," the creep chuckled, obviously pleased with himself. Now back to the bartender.
Now, Logan swiveled the barstool so he was facing the man. "Come again?"
"You heard me. I said you fucking loser. F. U. C..." before he could continue, Logan stood up, his hand whipping out around the man's throat.
The drunkard struggled to free himself, even trying to punch Logan in the face, but the young man was too quick. With one hand still on his throat, Logan used his other to grab one of the man's wrist and twist his arm behind his back.
The patrons around began to scramble, fearing they would get caught up in some sort of brawl. When they figured out however that the fight was really one sided, they all just stood around, waiting to see how the scene played out.
"First, you're going to apologize to the lady," Logan said, holding the man firm.
"Dude you're going to break my fucking arm!"
"Just apologize"
"Alright...I'm sorry"
"And you're going to leave her alone?"
"Yeah," Logan increased the pressure causing the man to yelp. "Yes, yes!"
"Ok buddy, now why don’t you go home?"
Finally, relief came as Logan released the hold. The man rubbed his sore arm and shoulder. He wanted to finish his drink, but his ego had been too badly bruised. Everyone in the bar was staring and he had been humiliated. He almost ran to the door, and when he was halfway through the threshold he turned back. "Yeah fuck you douchebag!" With the entire bar between them, the creep got some of his confidence back.
Logan jerked forward as if he were going to rush to the door. The slight movement was enough to send the man running.
To Logan's utter shock and embarrassment, the entire bar, which had been deathly silent during the whole ordeal, began to clap and whistle.
"Good stuff bro!" some frat boy called out from a booth, as Logan, now red as a tomato, took back his stool.
Cadee was surprised. She had been ready to mop the floor with the guy –or at least put him in his place, since she didn’t mop floors with people publicly– when the *nice-bod* guy intervened, And quite well too. Her trained eye had noticed the faster-than-normal speed and expertise of his movements, he had managed the drunk with an economy of effort that was nothing but extraordinary.
And she was moved. She wasn’t used to be the damsel in distress, and she liked it. She specially liked the way the guy blushed at the customer’s response to his gentlemanly behavior. Handsome, gallant and humble, a great combination.
Waving to the crowd to stop, Cadee smiled brightly to him and spoke.
“That was great, thank you. I’m Cadee, welcome to the Slàinte. What can I serve you? On the house, it’s the least I can do.”
"Well, if I knew I’d get free beer out of it, I’d make it a habit to beat drunk assholes," Logan replied, his face still blushing from the scene. "I'm sorry, that was a lame joke."
Cadee laughed, as she reached behind the bar for a glass. "I'm Logan, by the way. I'm actually here to meet an Angus. Is he working tonight?"
“I’m sorry, but he isn’t,” Cadee answered, as she poured beer in a high cup. “He’s out for some errands, and I don’t think he’ll be back tonight. He asked me to close the bar.”
She pushed the glass to Logan and smiled again. “Do you want to leave him a message or something?”
Logan reached into his jacket pocked. He could feel the envelop safely tucked away but stopped short before pulling it out. The type of things Balthazar dealt with were strange at best, and the man knew better than to leave one of his messages with an unknown bartender... even a fit bartender like Cadee.
"You know what," Logan said as he took a sip of his beer, "I think I should probably just come back when Angus is here. Is he in tomorrow?"
Cadee nodded.
"And will you be in tomorrow?"
Cadee nodded again, smiling this time. She liked him, she certainly did. “Every day but Thursdays. But what’s the rush, you can stay a little longer, right?”
The man definitely didn't want to leave but he knew he shouldn’t linger. Balthazar wouldn't be happy that he couldn’t deliver the message tonight and would be even madder if Logan didn’t get back to work sooner rather than later. Of course, if Angus was here tomorrow, then he had a good reason to be back.
"Not tonight," Logan sighed, before chugging the rest of the beer. "See you soon, Cadee." Reaching into his pocket, Logan left a sizable tip on the bar before walking away.
Cadee smiled as he walked away, she was sure he’ll be back, Angus or not Angus. Hell, she wanted him to come back. *Girl, you need a social life, a.s.a.p.*
“Oh, yes. I certainly do,” she sighed, as she hurried to pour yet another drink.
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