Vanessa had replaced Clara for her shift, although Clara wasn't ready to leave. Even though she was sore - mainly from flint - she was willing to put in the effort to stay busy and not leave just yet. She felt useless, she felt like a freeloader and the only way to rid herself of that feeling was to work.
Her hair was in a messy bun, strands around her face, some kept getting in her eyes. She felt a wave of exhaustion come over her as she gathered dirty plates from several tables and placed them in a grey tub. She went into the kitchen and placed the tub on the counter next to the sink. A young man took the plates and began to rinse them. She helped him trying desperately to busy herself. The man kept shifting his eyes over his shoulder as if he was being watched.
Clara looked over to where his eyes lingered but only the chaos of a busy kitchen could be seen. No one studied them or stood near them. Cooks called out orders, some repeated and others simply replied with a "yes, chef."
Clara felt like she was on an episode of Hell's Kitchen, only the chef barking orders wasn't nearly as good as Gordon Ramsey, and his yells and insults were more uncalled for rather than justified.
Once done helping, she went to leave the kitchen but was stopped by a short round man in a white uniform.
"How in the world are you still working here?" He says with a voice risen with curiosity. Clara opens her mouth to answer but no words come out. The man's plump features were accompanied by a few pockmarks. He looked exhausted, dark circles surrounded his eyes, his mouth agape, slightly drooling like he was dumbfounded.
"Open your mouth wider and I'll put something in it, and trust me when I say it won't be food," he says amused with himself. She feels insulted and disgusted. She shuts her mouth and moves around the man to leave but he grabs her arm and pulls her back.
"You didn't answer me," he says. His grip on her wrist tightens imensly, her wrist burning with pain.
"Let go of me," she says sternly. She knew that the man would probably be fired, bloodied and bruised if Flint knew the man not only had hand on her but was also hurting her.
The chef tightens his grip even more and then gives her a quick shove. She stumbles but is able to straighten her stance. She moves past the man and out the door, rubbing her wrist.
Clara passes a few people and enters the storage room. She moves to the door in the back and lightly knocks before entering. She closes the door behind her and looks around the room.
Flint shifts his gaze from the papers at his desk to the woman walking into his office. He smiles at the sight of the beautiful girl. He looks back at his work and tries to sort through the pile of papers.
"I'm almost done. What do you want for dinner? I was thinking I could have you, but I'm not sure you'd be up for that..." He chuckles.
He steals another glance at the woman only to look again with worry. She looked exhausted, in pain, vaguely agitated.
"You okay?" He says suddenly.
She sits on the chair in front of his desk and sighs, forcing a smile.
He sees her exhaustion having worked for 8 hours straight. She was hungry and tired but more importantly she wanted to just lay in bed with Flint.
She got up and went to the sofa on the opposite side of the office. She laid on the couch, her head throbbing. She hadn't had a good nights rest for days but it wasn't because of the sex.
__________________
It was nearly midnight, the bar was crowded with people, some tipsy and some in a distressful drunken state. Flint hated hearing the whining of the girls at the bar, complaining that their boyfriends were cheating or their husbands weren't paying them enough attention and vise versa. Flint hated the sound of guys laughing hysterically when making a joke about the waitresses. Even though he hated these things, he loved his bar with passion.
Friday nights were nights when immigrants in the city, whether from Scotland like himself or from Mexico, or even Canada, all of them came together at The Port and sang along to several foreign songs, although Flint would only watch.
One of his favorite memories at his bar was when a group of friends from Mexico were encouraged to try an old irish folk song, which they drunkingly attempted, slightly failed but where happy none the less.
Normally Fridays were the day in which several different groups of foreigners banded together to remember their homes for a night with drinks imported from their homeland, however this Monday evening was the night chosen for this excitement.
Najeem entered his friends office with a broad smile, knowing that his friend would be happy to be reminded of why he opened his bar in the first place.
"The Killian-" Najeem begins excitedly. He expected his friend to listen with a large smile but he is quickly shushed once he begins to talk. Flint stands from his desk and points over towards his office couch. The sleeping waitress curls on the sofa, exhausted from a long day. Flint moves to the couch and pulls the green throw blanket thay hangs on the back of the couch and tucks it around the small framed woman.
Flint wants to kiss her but he shakes the thought with Najeem in the room.
Flint turns to his friend and points at the door, they leave the gorgeous sleeping woman.
"I thought she left," Najeem says.
Flint shakes a hand for his friend to dismiss the subject.
"What about the Killian brothers?" Flint says explicitly changing the subject. Najeem clears his throat, annoyed with his friend.
"Their here, as are the Alvarez twins and the Dunin family" Najeem explains.
Flint smiles, knowing that the six men were probably homesick like him and wanting nothing more than something to drink and some music to hear.
Flint walks around Najeem and out the storage room. Once he approached the bar the loud group of men roars with greetings.
Flint is happy for a second, then realizes the sleeping woman in his office needed to go home, but he wouldn't be able to betray his friend by closing at the regular time for Monday nights. He would keep the doors open late for his friends but he needed to get the girl home.
The foreigners sit at the bar in their regular seats, the Alvarez twins in the middle, the three Killian brothers in the left, two Dunin brothers on the right, and the Dunin sisters at the table a few feet from the bar.
Flint waves an arm for the men to quiet down then he shifts his gaze to the table where the Dunin sisters sit.
"Ladies first," Flint says to the boys. He moves around the bar to the sisters. He smiles at the girls, he sees them as sisters more than anything else.
"Adel, red wine?" He asks. Adel was the eldest of the girls at age 27. She had long black hair and big brown eyes. She was pretty but not Flints type. She nods, agreeing that she wants her normal drink.
"Lidia, how was work today," he asks this knowing the answer would decide whether she wants a fruity cocktail or a hard polish vodka.
"That reminds me..." She says then suddenly stands to announce something.
The boys at the bar were already observing the girls, their brothers keeping a close eye on flint, unaware that his heart belonged to another girl and not one of their sisters.
"I finally quit today," Lidia announces. The Alvarez brothers roar with applause and the Killian brothers smile and clap, happy she had finally quit her horrible job that was destroying her.
Her brothers smiled greatly, happy their sister no longer worked around the judgmental and harassing men of the local construction company.
"So, a cranberry vodka with more vodka than cranberry?" Flint says. She nods with a smile and sits back down.
He gives her a pat on the back, proud that she decided to stand up for herself and quit, not wanting to hear the awful harassment of the vulgar office men.
Flint looks over his shoulder, at Najeem who stands behind the bar beginning to make the groups drinks.
"Free drinks for the girls tonight," Flint tells him.
"I always give them free drinks," Najeem says and give a flirtacious smirk to Lidia.
"Najeem," Flint scolds shaking his head. He scolded his friend more for the smirk than the drinks. The Dunin brothers glare at the large Kenyan.
Flint chanes his glance to the last Dunin sister.
"Maryla, soda or are we going to try something new?" Flint tries to suggest more than ask. The shy girl was 22 but hadn't tried a sip of alcohol. She shakes her head and orders a water.
Flint leaves the sisters and goes behind the bar, he tells to Najeem finish up and then deliver the drinks to the girls.
Flint then asks Najeem to watch the foreigners carefully while he went in the back to change the music of the bar to a polish folk album that was gifted to him by Adel years ago.
He goes in his office and checks on the girl, she curls up more, clutching her hands to her chest. She lets out a slight wimper. He leans over the girl and she seems stressed out. Maybe being sore from the previous night and the long work day? He leans down, plants a soft kiss on her temple, tucking a few strands behind her ear.
Flint goes around his desk and finds the CD. He checks on the girl again, her eyelids move around as if trying to wake up but she doesn't. Before he leaves the girl he leans down and plants another soft kiss.
He goes back to the bar to the music player that is linked to the bars surround sound.
After he puts the CD in the device, before even pushing play, a loud scream errupts through the bar sending a shiver down the spines of many. Flints eyes widen and his heart races, a wave of fear and anger washes over him as the familiar scream runs through his ears. Without a second thought he runs to his office.
A/N; Special thanks to SuzanneQJones
Please vote, comment, and all that to let me know if I should continue this story.
I'll be on vacation this week so the date for a new chapter will be pushed to Sunday if I have recovered from the 18 hour drive. If not I'll post Monday.
Please check out Islands, my other story, if you haven't already.
Thanks!