Faith exhaled a breath, brain telling her under-used libido that it would just have to wait a while longer because she didn't fuck people she worked with. "You're Danny."
"That'd be me," he agreed, eyes moving over her in a way that was somehow simply appraising and also somewhat sexual.
"You have the name of a five year old boy."
"And you have the face of someone who isn't a fucking ice queen."
Despite herself, she felt her lips twitching at that. Alright so maybe she had only known him for a total of two minutes, but she already liked him better than the past five bartenders she had needed to train. At least he wasn't meek and accommodating.
"Vin hired you with an attitude like that?" she asked, shaking her head. Vin, while he tolerated her, generally liked his employees of the bow and kowtow sort. He ran the place, he signed their checks, and he expected them to behave accordingly.
"Nah. I brought my 'yes, sir' game to him."
"What? No 'yes, ma'am' game for me?"
"First, doubt you want me calling you ma'am. Second, you might have seniority, but we're on the same level here."
"Were," she corrected. "We were on the same level. Until about two hours ago when Vin told me I have ultimate hiring and firing say."
"So... what? I should check my ego and pretend your attitude doesn't have all the charm of a fucking honey badger?"
She smiled at that, wryly, as her usual smile was. Rarely could you ever get a genuine happy smile out of her, being an award winning "resting bitch face" contestant. "Know what the honey badger is in the Guinness Book of World Records for?"
"Sure you're going to tell me," he said, moving down toward the side of the bar where it opened so the bartenders could walk in and out. But Faith moved there first, blocking his way.
"World's Most Fearless Creature."
"So that's a metaphor."
"It's a warning," she corrected, standing her ground when he moved closer, putting him in way too close proximity, close enough that she could see the specks of gold in his eyes and could smell the slightest hint of aftershave or cologne. "This is my bar. I am the only one who has lasted here more than a year. I'm going on ten now. So things stay where I want them. Drinks are made how I like them. You piss off the customers, I don't care. But if you piss off me, I will happily wipe the floor with your ass all the way to the door."
He rocked back on his heels for a minute, biting into his lower lip, then looking her in the eye. "I think we understand each other," he said and she figured it was his way of acknowledging that she was, for all intents and purposes, his boss and that he would behave as such.
She would soon find that she had never been more wrong about something before.
TWO
Faith
It was actually irritating how good he was at his job.
Faith stood back against the back bar, eyes small, watching him walk around like he was raised behind a bar. It wasn't just the fact that he knew how to mix everything from a Bloody Mary to an Old Fashioned or that he could mix and pour candy-flavored and colored shots with all the flourish of a tenured gay bar mixer, much to the delight of a couple of the mob wives who happened in to check out the fresh meat.
It was the ease with which he did it all. He didn't get tense or short with her when they were in the weeds for an hour, the bar three people deep and everyone used to getting served within minutes. He sliced fruit in his spare time and she didn't need to ask him to fill the cranberry or orange juices when she used the last of it mixing some drinks for a couple of pretty tourists she was keeping an eye on in the corner of the bar. Not because she was worried they'd skip on their tab, seeing as she had their card in the system, but because out of town girls were prime choices for any predators looking for easy prey. They didn't know their way around and they didn't know how shady a lot of men in the City were.
Sad, but true. And Faith tried to look out for her fellow sisters whenever she could. She couldn't change what might happen if they walked out the doors and got picked up by one of the guys in the bar, but she could at least make sure no one harassed them while they were just trying to have a good time.
"He's not going to drag them out of here caveman style," Danny said, coming up beside her and watching them too.
"You never know."
"If you think he's anything other than a cocky ex-highschool letterman wearer, then you're a poor judge of character."
"Some monsters wear letterman jackets," she said with a shrug.
"The redhead isn't into guys and she looks like she's ready to put a boot in his ass if he touches the friend she's obviously in love with one more time."