The Price for Help

Out of all things Forrest had expected- they being a man of hidden wealth or power, surrounded by either riches, weapons, and/or women, while at the same time also having a very lazy deposition in some way- he did not expect the scent that left the room as soon as the bartender opened the door just a crack.

“S-Sir. I brought along a guest,” he stuttered out.

“A guest? I don’t think I remember an appointment having been made for today, do you?” a voice within had stated.

“He had been incredibly insistent on seeing you. Or rather, see one of our regulars and employees.”

“And what? You didn’t think about simply sending him away? A customer who is not here to buy anything is no customer at all. I thought you’d know that, Benjamin.”

“Likewise, I think you’d know better than to keep said man waiting,” Forrest decided to speak up then, indirectly saving the bartender from whatever fate he would’ve gotten. “Also, perhaps you should at least ask your own employee who it is who is waiting to s