by Kari Chaplin
“I’m fine.”
“I saw the guy is back. Do you want me to handle it?”
“No. He’s okay. No weirdness so far.”
“Okay. I’m going back to my tables so I’ll see you out there soon.”
After I finished in the powder room, I went back to check on Mr. Extremely Well Tipper. He was gone. I cleared off his table for the next group. The night was so busy it didn’t take but a few seconds to fill the empty tables as they became available.
I ran my collections of orders to Brad. “I need four pitchers, three Jack and Cokes, a spritzer, six flaming Dr. Peppers and five Buds.” I placed them on my tray as he handed me each drink.
Walking away, I noticed a new person with his back turned to me at the dish sink. Even from behind, he felt familiar. I felt an internal pull toward him. He was buff, tight. His ass was the most sublime ass in the perfect jeans making it look as if his jeans were airbrushed onto his incredibly, flawless body. I liked what I saw. I liked it a lot. Not that I would act on it. I didn’t date customers, and I most definitely refused to date co-workers. In this tiny town, that rules everyone out. I frowned at my thoughts. “Hey, who is that? The new bar back?”
“You guessed right,” Brad said.
“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you in a few minutes with my next round.” I turned around, heading toward the floor to deliver the orders.
“Hey, Ves,” Brad hollered, I stopped and turned to face him to see that he seemed uncomfortable, yet he was giggling, like a nervous giggle. “I don’t say this often. And I’ve never said it to you because you never give me a reason…” Brad paused and did a really horrible job of not laughing.
I looked at him. “What?” I was confused by his words, the smirk on his face, and the apparent giggling.
“Put your panties back on,” he said as the giggling led into booming laughter.
I gave him a playful eye, but I was embarrassed that my monstrous fascination for this stranger was so obvious. I felt my face go pale; my cheeks flush beet red again. I scampered off, too embarrassed to even try at a reply. Delivering the round of drinks on my tray, I grabbed more orders. I noticed the new employee bent over, clearing off a few of my tables. A night that busy, I was glad to have an extra bar back. I was more than glad, in fact. I was grateful to see some extra help around there. Joe was helping everyone out too. I don’t think we had ever been that busy.
“Oh, excuse me,” I said apologetically. I had accidentally bumped into the bar back, who was cleaning off the table behind me. The place was so packed with patrons, staff and furniture. I had a hard time not bumping into someone or something.
“No problem.”
I stopped. That voice. That seductive, deep voice was somehow too intimate. I turned around to see his face.
“Ves.” He had a satisfied, divine smile spread across his to-die-for face.
I gazed fixedly into his eyes with shock. I was not as pleased as he seemed to be. “You,” I managed to say much louder and more angrily than I was going for. Although I was going for loud and angry, I didn’t mean to come off that loud and angry. A few heads within hearing proximity turned to us. I didn’t care. I continued to yell. “It’s you. This was the work you had to be at in fifteen minutes!” I was surprised and livid at the same time.
I really did not expect him to degrade himself so much. He seemed like the kind of person who was too good to be a lonely bar back in a backwoods town like this one. I had no clue as to why I drew that conclusion so quickly, but it made sense to me. “Great!” I narrated under my breath as I stalked off toward the bar. He was on my heels. I turned around to give my special don’t you dare glare that I reserved for appropriate times like this. I didn’t have to say the words. My glare said it all, or so I’ve been told.
He held up his hands in defeat, softly chuckling. “I’m just headed to the bar. Need a clean rag.” He used the hand holding three mugs to point to the cloth in his other hand.
I turned away from him. “Ugh, I hate him,” I mouthed to myself. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I stomped off. Throughout the entire night he was on top of me. When I was on the floor, he was cleaning tables around me. When I was ordering from the bar, he was cleaning the bar next to me. I was fully expecting the other girls to complain to Joe about him during the night’s meeting if they haven’t already started. Therefore, I didn’t have to worry about him much longer.
I rolled my eyes at Myra as she passed by me. She knew the message I was trying to portray. She provided an all-knowing smile.
I approached the bar and spilled out my orders.
“Three flaming Dr. Peppers,” he interjected.
“What?”
“You asked for two, but you need three.”
I rolled my eyes and ordered the third shot. “There are other waitresses for you to harass.”
A devious smirk pulled at his lips. I wanted nothing more than to devour those beautiful lips. “What? You don’t want my help?”
“Whatever.”
“Vanessa, I’m hurt.” He did not sound hurt at all.
“I see you already know my name. What’s yours?” My tone was short and precise. I didn’t want to give him the impression I wanted to know his name, even though I was chomping at the bit to know. This guy drove me crazy in more ways than one.
He stopped and turned back to face me. His expression was full of hurt and agony.
I could not figure him out. He infinitely frustrated me in so many ways. I sensed that I deeply understood him, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept it. In reality, I didn’t know him at all. I was at battle with myself. I waited, but he said nothing in return.
“If we are going to be working together, I need to know how to address you. Do you want me calling you ‘Hey, you’ all night long?”
“I was really hoping that you were already familiar with my name. If not, then I am restraining myself for absolutely nothing.” He audibly exhaled.
“Perfect…” he whispered, clearing his throat. His expression was carefree and flirtatious, but his tone was the opposite. His eyes were roaming around uncomfortably, as if he was looking for someone.
I wasn’t sure I wanted the end of his comment decoded. “No one has told me your name yet,” I informed him in a straightforward manner.
“Demien,” he finally said, not in a rude way, just disappointed.
“Well, Demien, other waitresses need your help.” I finished loading the tray as I left.
He seemed to have listened for an entire minute before he was back on me. I ignored him for the most part.
During the meeting, Demien stood on my right. I pretended not to notice. Myra stood to my left, scrutinizing our every move. I could hear her thoughts as clearly as if she were shouting them at me.
All the girls were staring at him with puppy dog eyes. The girls acted like they were under a spell or something. Where were the hate-filled demon comments? It was as if they didn’t remember all the drama over him. The waitresses were known around town as the wolf pack, because once they banned together on something they were relentless and merciless. How could they not remember the terrible things they had said about him? Strange things were afoot.
I couldn’t concentrate on Joe. I was too uncomfortable standing near Demien. He was scary and strange. He made me feel uncomfortable and ignited flames within all at the same time. Since I met him, he constantly stared at me like he was expecting something out of the ordinary to happen. It was almost as if he were searching for something that he thought should be written on my face. I didn’t like him, and he hadn’t made a good impression at any point in time. I audibly exhaled as I frowned. I really wished that were true. I was uncomfortable, but for a very, very different reason.
The next few days went by fairly uneventfully. I couldn’t wait for Halloween to be over. The holiday, if you want to call it that, freaked me out. I had to dodge zombies and angels of death just to get to work every damn day. I hated it. Demien seemed to f
ollow me around work most of the time. Every time I turned around; he would be close to me. I ignored him with as much willpower as I could conjure up, except for the numerous times I stole sneak peeks. Too many times to count, I caught him staring at me. A few times, Myra had caught me in the midst of a steamy daydream, staring at the mysterious stranger. Okay, she caught me a lot.
Finally, the arrival of the day before Halloween, or Hallows Eve as some people liked to call it, had arrived. The decorations would be coming down in a couple of days. I couldn’t be more excited. In my mind, the countdown to the decorations coming down had started. My shift was busy but uneventful. I was too busy to be concerned about anything, including Demien. It was a good night.
“Okay guys, thanks for your hard work. Tomorrow is Halloween so come rested and prepared for work. Make sure you wear your costumes or the outfits that lead to the biggest tips. Take your vitamins, and bring your aspirin. It’s going to be a huge night. Get home safe, and get rested.” I tuned in just as Joe was ending the meeting. I hoped I hadn’t missed anything important. This new distraction was really becoming a problem. I had to figure out a way to stop the daydreams, or at the very least, slow them down.
Eleven
“Let’s go,” I said to Myra.
We rushed to my car and locked the doors after we were safely inside.
“Oh, Demien is gorgeous. Oh, my goodness, he is good-looking. His ass is so tight. His body is so… so... perfect,” Myra sang her words. I guess she was wound up. “I think he likes you.”
“Ya think.” I knew I shouldn’t have been so cynical. In a bit of a softer voice, I said, “I don’t like him.”
“Why not?” she asked excitedly yet shocked.
“I just don’t. Can we talk about something else?” I snapped.
“Well, if you don’t like him, then can I have him?”
“Um, well, that’s up to him. He isn’t a dress I can hand over to you.” I was appalled by her question. I practically yelled at her in my head. My voice, on the other hand, was managing to remain calm with just a slight angry undertone. I was doing well to maintain my composure.
“Well, then, I’ll ask him out.” Myra placed her index finger on her lips and paused meditatively. “You know there is something about him. I just can’t quite put my finger on it. I’m a little suspicious.” She stopped talking for a few minutes as she lost herself in thought. Then she said, “Oh well, he is an outsider.” She continued prattling about who knew what. Myra always had plenty to say about everything. I tuned her out for the most part.
I was lost in my own thoughts, which always led me back to him. Particularly, wondering why I was so offended by her question.
“Are we goin’ to the festival tomorrow,” Myra asked before getting out of my car.
“Hell yeah, we can’t miss that. I’ll get you around two.” Secretly, I was not looking forward to tomorrow, but I did my best to fake excitement for Myra’s benefit. Halloween was her favorite holiday.
“Okay, see you then. Tell Shannon I said hi,” Myra said as she slammed the car door.
Before I realized it, I was turning into my driveway. I apparently drove on autopilot all the way home because I didn’t remember the drive. I was lost in my thoughts about Demien. I shouldn’t even think about his name. A mere thought of him for even a split second sent little rushed explosions up my spine. It was all too exciting and consuming; despite that, I got a vibe that told me he was extremely dangerous. Maybe the warnings that seemed to exude from his body was the reason I was so attracted to him.
I went to sleep with him on my mind. He excited me in ways I’d never thought possible.
The dream took place at work replaying the night’s events. Nothing significant happened except Demien kept repeating the same phrase. “You are mine. You carry my brand.” He recited that over and over, repeating it so many times that I lost count. His eyes were dark, but not black. I didn’t take the dream too seriously. My dreams were often weird around this time of year.
I woke up rested and refreshed. After showering, I shoved my waist into a bustier that was two sizes too small, which was a part of my slutty bar wench costume. I slipped on knee-high, black leather boots with an extremely high heel, and headed out the door. It was super tight and even more uncomfortable, but it did make my waist tiny and my girls pop out, promising to make the tips well worth it. I packed a little bag with a change of clothes and shoes without a heel, just in case. I always needed backup clothes when I was forced to wear tight clothes and high heels. I seriously doubted this time would be different, especially since we were going to the festival before work. I would be lucky if I made it to work still dressed in this dreadful ensemble.
Twelve
I was forced to drive twenty minutes out of my way through back roads that were cut off, just to have to backtrack and find another route. All just to get to Myra’s, because the main strip in town was blocked off for the festivities. Oklahoma had a bad issue with roads cutting off in random places to avoid interrupting farmlands. Living here my entire life did not make trying to navigate the back roads any easier.
When I finally arrived, she was waiting for me on her porch like always. Myra was wearing a fairy costume. The dress was red leather with large, black circles scattered throughout, hanging barely past her ass. The dress reminded me of a ladybug. Her wings were made of an oversized, glittery, black netted material.
I parked my car curbside in front of her house. As I got out, she laughed at me with a lisp for stumbling around in my heels. I looked up and noticed she had fangs. She had red drops painted from her lips and holes with blood dripping down on her neck.
“Nice, you’re a vampire fairy,” I said in delight. She looked cute and kick-ass all rolled into one.
“Yep, I’m excited about my costume. I think it’s my best yet. Wow, you look sexy. Demien’s gonna flip when he sees you,” Myra slurred through her plastic fangs.
“Then maybe I should change.” My words accompanied by a sarcastic eye roll.
We headed toward Main Street on foot. It was only about two blocks to the main strip. Normally, the walk would be welcomed, but not today, not in these shoes. As I stumbled around in my extremely high heels, trying very hard not to break my ankles, Myra talked nineteen to the dozen about the Halloween street party happening that night.
We reached Main Street just as the parade kicked off. Most parades that I have seen are relatively quiet and calm. People ride by waving from floats or cars, some walk and throw candy. The parade was loud and interactive. Baton twirlers were twirling fire sticks. Others were throwing candy as they danced and flipped. Twelve zombies from the high school band marched down the street playing various instruments to the beat of “It’s Halloween.” The song was upbeat and airy, with a psychotic, unsettling undertone. It was written by the local band, Amy’s Arrest.
Most people outside of our town believed, incorrectly, the band was named after the lead singer, Amy Winters. The band was named after an infamous outlaw, Amy Urshbrooke, who settled in our town over a century earlier. The legend said she lived there undetected for five years. When she was finally discovered and arrested, it caused the mob war of 1907 in our tiny town and the surrounding field. The reason for the uproar was never proven. People speculated all sorts of reasons that the mobs would have been interested in her arrest. The rumors included the theories that she was a mistress of a mob boss, or she was part of the mob but in hiding. The entire incident was true and on record at the county courthouse, but most things were left to speculation. Of course, the story had been so romanticized that the truth, if it was ever known, had been lost to history and rumor. An unknown, small town in the middle of nowhere seemed like the place I would hide. too.
Monster trucks with loud mufflers and blaring music followed the band. Oversized banners that read “Happy Hallows Eve, Y’all” lined the truck.
My mind spaced without a memorable thought as parade floats inched past my vision.
“So, are we going?” Myra asked, bringing me back from the depths of lost thought.
“Huh?” I asked, bewildered.
She raised her right eyebrow, which always meant she was insulted. “Um, only the party that I’ve been talking about since we left my house.” She looked at me in a moment of recognition. As her lips revealed a disenchanted smirk, she said, “Ugh, you haven’t been listening to me at all. Have you?”
I didn’t want to admit to the lack of listening on my part, so I answered her first question, ignoring the latter accusation. “Sure, we can drop in for a few minutes, I guess.”
“Good,” Myra beamed. “I’m super excited. I wonder if I should change into a different costume for the party.”
Across the crowded street large round, glowing red eyes peeking between the passing floats catch my eye. My heart raced. My fits balled up tightly, cutting into my palms. I blinked several times to clear my vision. Red eyes were staring back at me. Three sets of red eyes stood amongst the crowd. They were staring at me. I closed my eyes for a moment. I had to be hallucinating. Upon opening one eye, I stared back at four sets of large, round, red eyes.
“Red eyes? What the hell is going on?” I murmured to myself. Float after float, I clearly observed four sets of red eyes. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. When I opened them, I saw the red eyes still gazing into mine. My breathing quickened, and my heart threatened to explode. An anxiety attack was coming on. My rapid breathing turned into hyperventilation.
“Vanessa, what is wrong with you?” I heard Myra ask through my mental haziness.
“Red eyes,” I managed to whisper.
“Red eyes? What?” Myra asked in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
A set of red eyes appeared behind a child from “Mrs. Somers 2nd Grade Ghost” float.
I closed my eyes as tight as I could and screamed.
“Vanessa, snap out of it.” Myra was shaking me fiercely as I struggled to loosen her grip. “What are you doing?”
