Remembering You Ch. 02

"You must be John." I turned to see who must have been Eric standing behind me. He was a full head shorter than me and balding. In a snugly fit khaki suit, he looked every part the sleazy club-owner. If I didn't know that he was one of the fifteen richest men on the West Coast I would never have guessed. "I'm Eric Christophersen, proprietor of this fine establishment."

"John Brennan, nice to meet you." I shook his hand and he led me behind the bar.

"There aren't many rules. Mostly, if the customer flirts, play along. If they buy you a shot, take it. If they ask for your number, give it. But don't let them touch you too much, we aren't a strip-club. The top-shelf liquor is on the backlit shelving units up here," he gestured toward the vast wall of spirits behind him, "well is up here at the front. The only beers we have are on tap and there are four soda guns here, here, here and there. Garnish trays are at either end of the bar. Any questions?" He looked at me with a cocked eyebrow. I shook my head, though I was totally lost. "Good, you will be working with one other bartender and four go-go boys. The other bartender tonight is Chad." He walked away without another word.

I exhaled loudly and looked at my workspace. I started picking up bottles at random and examining their labels, memorizing which ones were vodka, gin, rum, and then some I'd never even seen before.

"Well hello..." The voice drew out the "o" lazily. I turned to see a younger guy leaning against the bar, wearing the same getup as myself. He was about my height, sandy brown hair cropped short and really toned. I was beginning to wonder if that was a prerequisite around here. "Name's Chad. And you are?"

"John. Uh, the new guy." I offered my hand, but he walked past it to the other side of the bar. I turned to watch him as he pulled open a small fridge underneath the bar and grabbed a bucket of lemons and limes.

"Well it's a pleasure," I had the distinct feeling that it wasn't. "So, are you going to help me or not?" He pointed at the pile of citrus with a paring knife.

"Oh, right." I quickly grabbed another knife and began slicing a lime. Chad eyed me doubtfully and grabbed the fruit away from me.

"No, idiot, you have to cut it like this, so that we can, you know, serve them?" He instructed me on the proper way to cut it. "You act like this is the first time you've ever bartended. Christ..."

"It is." I gritted my teeth, he was starting to get on my nerves. "It's my first night tonight."

"Oh!" He gasped dramatically and turned to look at me again. "Soyou'rethe one that everyone's been talking about, huh?" I grabbed another lime and started cutting it.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean..." I pointedly refused to make eye contact. Chad stopped cutting and turned to face me full-on.

"Oh please, sugar. You're the mystery man, the one who lost his noggin? It's the big news around these parts. Though, to be honest, I don't know what the big fuss is about." He smirked and turned back to slicing.

I decided to let the comment go and turned back to my own work. So people were talking about me? Or, if Chad was to be believed, which I highly doubted, people were making a 'fuss?' About what? After a few more minutes of silently cutting limes, I had to ask.

"Umm, in the words of the famous Janis Ian, 'you're a regulation hottie.' But, like I said, I don't really see it." He sniffed in dismissal and started putting the cut-up fruit into the condiment trays. I followed suit on the other side of the bar. He broke the uncomfortable silence once again, "Listen, amnesia-boy, let's get a couple of things straight. I have been a bartender here for three years and that gives me an immeasurable amount of authority over you. You stay on that side of the bar, I stay on this side. If you need something from me, you ask politely. If you need to look up how to make a drink, look at this book." He pulled a bartending book from beneath the bar-top. "People come here to look at me, not you. Got that?" I nodded, silently fuming. What an ass.

The lights came down and the bouncers started letting people in. Because it was a Saturday, people were out earlier than they would have been on other nights, so it got busy quickly. I was swamped within no time, scrambling around to finish making drinks and get them to customers that were rapidly growing impatient with waiting. Meanwhile, on the other end of the bar, Chad was laughing and joking with people as he served them. He made it look so easy.

By ten o'clock I was exhausted, but I was also getting a hang of the whole thing too. I was learning drink names and remembering how to make them. A lot of the guys would smile at me as I passed them their drinks and quite a few asked me to come hang out with them when I was off work. It was, all in all, a flattering experience. As I became more proficient, the tips got bigger too.

"Can I have two shots of Jack please?" I turned to see Alex standing there with his entourage, grinning widely at me. I smiled back.

"Coming right up," I poured the shots and handed them to Alex. He slid one back towards me.

"Bottoms up!" He held out his glass to me and I clinked mine against it. I took the burning liquid down in one gulp, choking back a cough. He laughed at the look on my face. "Oh, where are my manners? Let me introduce you to my friends. This is Alan, Tucker and Reid. Guys, this is John, the one from the beach." I nodded to each of them in turn.In the dark they were indistinguishable from each other - all tanned, muscle-bound and tall.

I glanced over at Chad, he was staring at me, open-mouthed. Turning back to Alex, I asked him, "So, do you know Chad very well?"

"Ugh, yes. Unfortunately...we kinda... at one point last year." He blushed a little. "It was a mistake, but it seems likesomeonehasn't be able to get over it." He waved to Chad seductively and leaned in closer. "But I can think of someone that wouldn't be a mistake." His lips softly brushed my ear and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Well..." I faltered, clearing my throat, "...that sounds nice."

"I'm going to go dance with my friends, but I think we should meet up for a 'nice' time later. When do you get off?"

"I'm closing, so 2:30 or so?"

"I'll be waiting outside." He gave me a wink and a smile that could melt snow and walked away. I turned and smiled smugly at Chad, who sniffed and looked quickly away.

The rest of the night passed by in a flash. The tips were very good and the attractive guys kept coming to my end of the bar, much to my partner's annoyance. Soon, it was last call and everyone was pouring out of the building, boozy and laughing. Chad showed me how to close out the till and where to stock all the glasses and such. He didn't say a word to me as he was both tired and annoyed with me, which suited me just fine. We walked out into the parking lot together, pockets stuffed with cash from our tips, and Alex was there, waiting by a bright red Dodge Charger. Chad shot me one last look and made his way to his car.

"Hello there handsome." Alex beckoned me over to his car. "Get in, let's go to my place for a drink."

"I don't think you're supposed to get into cars with strangers," I replied with a grin.

"Well it's a good thing I'm not a stranger then." He smirked and opened the passenger door for me. I hesitated for the first time, I wasn't entirely sure I was comfortable with where this night was going. Sensing my apprehension, Alex spoke again. "I assure you, I'm the perfect gentleman. We won't do anything you don't want to."

Still wary, I allowed myself to get shut into his car and he sped off towards downtown. He lived in an ultra-modern apartment in the heart of the city. He sat me down on a couch facing a full-wall window that afforded an excellent view of the bay a couple of miles away, retreating to the kitchen to make a couple of drinks. I reached out either side of me, my hands feeling the soft, supple leather of the couch.

"Wow, this is really nice."

"Ha, thanks. It's Italian leather, imported from Milan." He paused and measured a jigger full of whiskey into one of the glasses. "So, John, tell me a little about yourself."

"Um..." I wasn't entirely sure what to say, "I'm new to the area. I guess there's really not too much to know." He handed me a highball glass full of an amber liquid with oranges and cherries in it and smiled.

"A man of few words, huh?"

"I guess," Not wanting to delve deeper into the subject of my missing identity, I took a sip of my drink. It tasted strongly of whiskey, but it was sweet and slightly fruity as well. It was actually pretty good. "What is this?"

"An Old Fashioned." He replied proudly, "It's the one cocktail I'm decent at making."

"Well it's very good. So, tell me a little aboutyourself." I glanced around at his expensively furnished apartment, "I take it you're not a bartender..."

He cocked his eyebrow at me and laughed softly. "No, I'm not. I work in tax law - not the most exciting job in the world, but I enjoy it." Seemingly out of topics of conversation, we sat in silence for a couple minutes. I surveyed the skyline silently. The lights sparkled innocently, spread out below us like a diamond-studded carpet. I took another sip of my drink and turned to look at Alex. He was gazing at me absent-mindedly, fingering a picture frame on the table beside him. I couldn't quite make out who was in it. Curious, I leaned forward to see.

"What's with the picture?"

Alex snapped to attention, and looked at the picture. "It's...that's nothing." He quickly set the picture frame down on its face and turned back toward me. He smiled innocently. Not quite buying it, I didn't want to push it. Especially since the night was looking up at this point. "Well, it's getting late. I should get you home, unless you want to stay for another drink?"

"I...I could stay." An image of Cody flashed in my mind, but I pushed it away roughly. That was the past, and I needed to live in the present.

"I think I would really enjoy that. In fact, I can think of a couple things that I would enjoy even more..."

I looked over at him. He was eyeing me hungrily and a little triumphantly, like a cat that had chanced upon a mouse already caught in a trap, and I wanted nothing more than to stay and be his prey. In fact, at that moment, there was nothing I would have rather done that strip naked and let him plough me there on the Italian leather couch. I was, however, determined not to whore around, and so wanted to put up at least a cursory fight. "I don't know that that's a good idea, Alex."

"I never said it was a good idea. But what I did say is that I would enjoy it, and I know of several ways that I can make sure you do too." He inched closer and started leaning in towards me. I laughed quietly to myself.

"Wow, that's a line. Does that ever work?"

"Every. Single. Time."