“Hey Boss, you got a minute?”
River’s head shot up, startled by the quiet knock and even quieter question from Cassie. Frankly, it shouldn’t have startled him, but he was buried so deep in the bar’s paperwork that any disruption felt loud.
Realizing that he still had to answer her, he gestured to the chair in front of his desk, clearing away some scattered papers while the Senior Lead sat down. Her black hair was dark enough to appear blue in some lighting and it was tied back in a short pony, like she usually had it during work. She liked to keep it out of the way and joked it brought more attention to the many piercings adorning her nose and brows. River momentarily wondered what she came to discuss but he immediately knew it was marketing based when she reached into her bag, pulling out a thick manila folder.
“Food sales are down by 13.6% from last quarter and it’s starting to become a bad investment to have 3 people cooking in the back.”
“But Christopher and his team would be swamped if we let go of any of them,” River argued.
“At this rate, orders will be so few and between, they won’t have anything to cook.”
Cassie passed him the folder, allowing him to look over the numbers. She had the statistics in full detail and simplified and had a graph showing the decrease in food sales. River hummed, raising his fist to his mouth and nibbling on the dead skin by his thumb. Cassie had recognized this as River’s ‘thinking face’ and waited patiently in her seat as his mind reeled. While his business’s focus was on the bar, River had a very dedicated chef heading their food items. The menu was updated twice a year and River personally tasted every dish. He knew that their food was good enough to be in the nicest of restaurants, which made it even worse that Christopher’s outlet, Adonis, seemed to be failing him.
“How do we currently promote the food?” River asked. “By request, right?”
“Yeah, they have to ask to see the menu.”
“Then we should just create a physical menu and put it at their tables,” he stated simply, though Cassie’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“Didn’t we avoid a menu because you didn’t want it to-“
“Clash with the decor, I remember,” River stated, completing the sentence she had repeated back to him numerous times. Hearing his words coming out of someone else’s mouth did make him sound very arrogant, but his vision had seemed sound at the time. Now it was a matter of preserving his vision or keeping his kitchen staff. Or, finding a way to do both.
“If people aren’t asking for food, we have to make them ask. There has to be a way to design the menu so it’s classy as well, right?”
Cassie reclined back further in her chair, tossing around the question in her mind for a while. Then, with a loud creak, she sat up, eyes wide with a fresh idea.
“We can hire a graphic designer to help. It would be an extra cost but the returns would definitely be worth it.”
The corners of River’s mouth began to lift and he reached for his computer, already eager to get to work on the menus. Cassie chuckled but tried to quickly hide it as a cough. She found River’s ceaseless energy when it came to his business somewhat cute, but the older man hated when people acknowledged any humanity that he had, so she chose to keep her opinions at bay.
“Thanks for bringing this to my attention, Cassie. I’ll start searching for some designers right away.”
“Any time, Boss,” Cassie muttered with a small smile, slipping out of River’s office as smoothly as she’d entered.
River was a bit behind on work today and the menu issue was only setting him further back, but he didn’t mind. Not really. Most Fridays he spent the entire afternoon behind the bar, making drinks and interacting with his patrons. Even after becoming a bar owner, River still loved the feeling of making drinks and watching someone’s face light up or sink into pleasure at the taste of his work.
Today, he would have to wait to get behind the counter and finish all of his ownership duties. Becoming a ‘bar owner’ had seemed a lot more exciting than paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. But leaving his office doors to see the real-life embodiment of his dream bar completely made up for it.
“Are you passionate about it?”
Hunter’s question two weeks ago echoed in River’s mind, making his fingers stop, hovering above the keyboard. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he scoffed under his breath. It was weird that the little question was coming back to him now. River knew that he was holding a lot back when he answered Hunter that day. Of course he was passionate about bartending, he loved it more than any other hobby he’d ever done. His love of crafting drinks and the bar experience guided every decision he made as a business owner. He more than loved it: bartending was his life.
But Hunter didn’t need to know that. He was a random guy with a nice suit and even nicer smile that showed up a couple of weeks in a row and then didn’t come back. Maybe it was strange that River noticed his absence last Friday and wondered if he would make it this week, but odds were that the three visits were enough and he wouldn’t be seeing Hunter again.
That was the name of the game. You had the few customers that became patrons, determined to support you and your business in any way they could. But most were just passing through. With them, you hoped to make a good enough impression to at least get a positive yelp review and decent tip.
Clearly, Hunter fell in the latter category. And why would River go out of his way to connect with a guy that he wouldn’t be seeing again? The bar owner was many things, but lacking in self-awareness, he was not.
He knew exactly what most people thought of him. Handsome, charismatic, cold.
And that was just as he wanted it to be. River’s life was perfect. He had everything and everyone that he needed in it. He didn’t need Hunter, so he wouldn’t go out on a limb to have him.
That didn’t stop him from searching for a familiar head of short black hair and a three-piece suit to match an hour later. The crowd had started out busy but eventually calmed down, giving River ample time to search through it. Until finally, he saw him.
—————
Hunter felt eyes on him as soon as he got through the door and looked up to find River staring straight at him. For a moment, his eyes lit up and a shiver of delight ran through Hunter’s body at the attention. But it was fleeting and soon after, River’s expression dropped as he got back to wiping the bar. Hunter glanced over at his usual seat, snug against the far corner of the bar. It was comfortable and private. But River stood right at the center of the bar, at the center of it all. So Hunter walked right up to him, taking the empty chair and staring at River until he met Hunter’s eyes again.
“Hi,” Hunter smiled.
“Hey.”
For two fully grown adults, their conversation sounded a bit elementary. The heart in Hunter’s chest thumped noisily. It had been a while since he had last been here and, for some reason, River felt even colder than last time. But Hunter had been looking forward to this for two weeks. He was too wound up to let this go.
“I didn’t see you here last week,” River tagged on, seemingly focused on some items he was organizing behind the bar.
Hunter’s smile grew to the point where it was almost blinding and River regretted saying anything about it. The younger man looked way too pleased with himself and saw right through his facade. In some weird way, River had missed him. Or at least noticed Hunter’s absence. Maybe it wasn’t much but it sparked a fire under Hunter’s butt to keep going.
“I wanted to come, truly, but there was an emergency at work,” Hunter explained, peeling off his suit jacket as he spoke. “I won’t go into the details but I stayed back until midnight and just didn’t have the energy to drink for another hour.”
“What do you do?” The other man asked curiously. Once again, River cursed himself. He was showing way too much interest. He was caring too much. But Hunter looked so happy and upbeat today and River craved to get closer to that, to exist in that world.
“I own an animation studio,” he answered, catching the way River’s eyes widened in surprise. “So we work on shows, movies, ads, or assist other studios with their larger projects.”
“Wow, and you own the studio? That must bring in a lot of money.”
“A decent amount,” Hunter shrugged. “Though I’m sure whoever owns this place is also pretty comfortable.”
It was such a ‘nice guy’ thing to do, deflecting from his wealth by focusing on another’s. River just found it ironic that he clearly didn’t realize that the ‘whoever’ was standing right in front of him.
“But enough about work, what do you do outside of this place? I can’t imagine a guy like you having a bland life.”
River chuckled at the characterization and Hunter grew prideful that he’d drawn that out of him.
“You’d be surprised,” River sighed. “My life really isn’t as interesting as you’re making it out to be.”
“How so?”
Hunter noticed the way River’s eyes shot up to meet his. He’d startled him again. River didn’t expect him to push for the answer and had thrown him off his game. The older man’s gaze fell back to his workspace and he shrugged.
“I work, mostly. Which reminds me, what are you getting to drink?”
He avoided the question again, Hunter thought, his jaw flexing visibly when he clenched it. His eyes narrowed as he wondered if he should push it again. Did River have hobbies he needed to hide or an aversion to letting Hunter know even a piece of what he was like on the inside?
But Hunter really did want a drink and thought that River could use a break from the interrogation.
“Do you have any other suggestions, Mr. Bartender?”
He couldn’t help making the question slightly flirty, but River seemed to appreciate the shift in topic. His body relaxed and with all of the confidence in the world, he sauntered away to create a new drink.
In the time it took River to create the drink, Hunter devised his game plan. He’d always been more interested in brain than brawn, but the analogy felt fitting today. River had been winning this game they were playing for far too long. Hunter needed to get some points on the board, start to understand who was the man that was monopolizing his thoughts these days.
River slid a deep red Boulevardier into Hunter’s hand and the younger man smiled at the sight of the drink.
“I would have made you a Negroni since it has the gin from your favorite drink, but I find the Boulevardier to have a more balanced flavor palette,” River explained, gesturing to the glass Hunter was already raising to his lips. “Let me know what you think.”
“I do love me a Gin and Tonic,” Hunter agreed, watching a bit of unease set into River’s eyes. “… but this is really good. The whiskey just works.”
The bartender now looked satisfied, pleased with his work and even more pleased with Hunter’s reaction. In that moment, his love for making drinks had never been more obvious. Hunter’s chest warmed, realizing a man he thought to be impenetrable was becoming easier and easier to read. Hunter could be growing more versed in the ways of River, or the man was simply lowering his guard. Regardless, Hunter was getting to understand bits and pieces about him.
That was his original goal, to see behind the mask. But this momentary success did nothing to quench his thirst or lessen his desire. No, the urge only grew, a steadily increasing flow of want that coursed through his body. It started from his chest and spread outward until he was tightly clenching at his drink to keep from reaching out to touch the other man. To just connect in some way.
He felt crazy, obsessive even. Yet it was also familiar in the way this feeling moved through his body. Hunter then knew that his attraction to River had morphed into a powerful crush before he even realized. It was worse than a crush, actually, because his past crushes never pushed him to go to such lengths just for a sliver of attention. But he didn’t have another name for the intense feeling he knew to be less than love but more than a simple desire.
As if hearing the warring thoughts in Hunter’s mind, River’s eyes caught his from over the countertop but he quickly cut off the connection and Hunter’s right hand clenched into fist at his side.
“I have a question for you,” Hunter stated plainly, waiting for that delicious moment when River’s eyes hit him again.
“Shoot.”
“What’s your favorite movie?”
It was an easy enough question. River would be exposing very little of himself in answering it. Hunter imagined that River would share honestly and maybe, once he warmed up to the act, it would be easier for him to be honest in general.
“I don’t think I have one.”
Now it was Hunter’s turn to be caught off guard. Was River avoiding the question? What was the harm in sharing your favorite movie?
“Favorite genre?”
“I watch everything.”
“Then just name one of your favorites,” Hunter blurted, unable to keep the exasperation out of his voice. River smirked wider at the sight of his irritation and hummed, tapping his chin obnoxiously.
“What kind?”
“Action.”
“Darn, I don’t think you’d know the movie I’m thinking of.”
A small vein in Hunter’s forehead was beginning to pop when leant forward, glaring at the man in front of him.
“Try me.”
For a silent moment, no words were exchanged, the electric energy passing between their intense stares communicating more than words ever could. Then River’s gaze shifted, his eyes lighting up with an evil glint.
“Oh, would you look at that, I think there’s another customer I have to get to,” he explained apologetically but Hunter wasn’t believing a word of it. “I’ll be right back.”
Hunter watched River move away, getting to the far corner of the bar at the same time that an older woman in a deep blue pantsuit reached that spot. She was closer to the brown man working with River that night but he’d still gone out of his way to serve her. Successfully avoiding the question. Again.
Was it impossible for River to ever give a straight answer?
The man in question felt quite pleased with himself when he returned to stand in front of Hunter a few minutes later, finding the younger man staring at the bar counter in front of him pensively. He considered using his success to tease Hunter, shifting the conversation back to a topic he enjoyed discussing—which was anything other than himself. But Hunter didn’t seem to get the memo, instead pining River with one of those soul-exposing looks he hated to receive. It left him feeling raw, totally exposed to the young man in front of him.
“You really don’t like talking about yourself, do you?” Hunter uttered simply. It wasn’t a question, just a statement. River knew it was pointless to try to deny it. There was still time to deflect or maybe find something else to do in the back since it was slow tonight. But looking into the deep brown eyes of the man sitting in front of him, River suddenly grew tired of it all.
“Maybe I have my reasons,” he muttered finally, finding it impossible to hold Hunter’s burning stare. His unexpected honesty made Hunter’s jaw go slack. River picked up a random glass, shining it and wiping it down as much as he could to keep his hands busy. It was better than seeing all of the reactions Hunter could be having to the truth right this second.
“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t immensely curious about what those reasons are.”
That drew a genuine laugh from River and he pinned a mirthfilled gaze on Hunter.
“People always are,” he laughed, a somewhat sad smile emerging on his lips. “But they usually don’t stick around long enough to find out.”
Hunter was supposed to take that as a joke. It was lighthearted and fun. But he couldn’t ignore the new slouch in River’s shoulder or his glazed-over eyes. What Hunter planned to do might be a mistake but his longing and River’s sadness created a strange combination in his chest that couldn’t be denied. Hunter waited until River’s eyes finally met his before he took the big risk.
“And what if I told you that I would?” Hunter proposed.
“What?”
“Stick around,” he grinned childishly, willing his happiness to somehow rub off on River too. “I’ve always been described as painfully loyal.”
“I don’t know why you’d stick around a guy you only talk to at a bar,” River smiled wryly. It was not the exact response Hunter was looking for but it was an improvement to how dejected he looked earlier.
“Oh, we can fix that easy. I’ve been meaning to take you out to a place that you don’t work at.”
“Like McDonalds?” River snorted, hiding his face behind a fist.
“I was thinking of something a little more classy for our first date.”
River stilled, his body growing stiff beneath his clothing. Similarly, Hunter’s breath halted in his chest as he waited. Then, River’s shoulders relaxed and he sighed, turning to Hunter.
“I don’t really do ‘dates,'” River swung the towel over his shoulder nonchalantly. “I’m more of a bed first, name later kind of guy.”
A rush of foot traffic came in from a different end of the bar. River pushed off the counter, ready to go help, but paused.
“And just for the record, I don’t make it a habit of sleeping with customers.”
Hunter racked his brain for a good response but ‘name later’ felt impossible to ignore. He couldn’t decide if he should feel flattered or insulted that River didn’t want to add him to his list of conquests.
In the wake of his stumble, River just smiled and went off. Thinking over their past interaction for a moment, Hunter came to the strange realization that he’d been rejected. Rejected in the most gentle and non-confrontational way possible, no less.
He almost wished River would have rejected him outright so he didn’t still wish to come back next week, asking for more. If he could convince River to make him another notch on his belt, would Hunter regret it? Hunter’s body heated at the mere thought and he cursed. This is supposed to be over. He just needed to convince his body of that.
———————————
Uh oh, a little trouble in paradise?
I promise you, there’s a lot more than meets the eye with this. Just hang in there.
Who bets that Hunter’s going to show up next week?
Who thinks he’ll stay the hell away?
Anywhore,
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Vote, Comment, Share, Follow, or anything else you can do with this book and I will see you next Friday! Bye!!!
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