Chapter 4 - Clementine

“Hey, Ruby,” I smiled, looking over at Ciara, who was sitting across from me. Ciara smiled and kept mouthing something. I furrowed my brows at her, and when I finally understood, I put the call on speaker.

“Where the hell is Ciara?” Ruby’s voice boomed, angrily.

I looked at the frowning Ciara. Ciara shook her head and raised her arms to form a cross sign to me.

“Uh, how would I know? She hasn’t been replying to my texts. She’s probably out day drinking again, why do you ask?” I glared at Ciara and gestured for her to stop with the sign languages, so she stayed still and listened to the conversation.

“I kept calling her, but she wasn’t responding. That brat kept delaying the mission I gave her, saying she couldn’t because it involved her ex—what is that rat’s name again? James? John?”

“It’s Jordan! God!” Ciara covered her mouth as soon as she realized she just busted the cover, and now she got caught.

“Ciara! Answer your damn phone, you little—”

The call ended abruptly when Ciara tapped the red button. I looked at her in horror. Did she just cut off our senior manager?

“Is this why your phone is always off?” I asked Ciara with knitted brows.

“I can’t do it, Az.”

“Who is this Jordan anyway? Do you want me to kill—”

Ciara gasped, “Are you nuts?”

“Just freaking do it,” I said firmly.

Ciara rolled her eyes in defeat, “Fine, fine. I guess I can do it next month.”

“Tomorrow.”

Ciara let out a groan, “Whatever, mom!”

It was eleven in the morning. I parked my car at Clementine’s. A group of bikes and bulky men occupied the far corner. Their area was covered with smoke and laughter. I tore my gaze off of them and decided to enter the club.

“Can I help you, miss?” A man approached me. He wore a white dress shirt and a pair of denim pants. His hair was dark and disheveled, and he looked flirtatious based on the automatic smirk he plastered as soon as he saw me. He was too handsome to be lined with garbage work; the man is indeed charming but he smiles too much. It’s irritating for some reason.

“Hey, uh. Are you accepting applicants?” I pointed at the club.

“Ah, yes. Come in,” The man gestured to the entrance of Clementine.

I looked around the place in awe. Clementine is spacious and remarkably luxurious, from the crystal chandeliers to the billiard tables, dartboards, and the counter where a shelf displays bottles of various drinks. There were a few customers inside, and the rest were waiters and the cleaning crew. There are couches and tables on the first and second floors. I saw the glass elevator in the far corner of the club, and it was coming down smoothly; a figure of a tall man was inside.

The man accompanied me to the counter.

“What are you applying for?”

“Bartender,” I replied blankly, leaning my arms onto the countertop.

“Wow, are you a bartender?” He asked, amused.

“That’s what I said, right?” I replied before looking around. The large glass shelf in front of me seemed to pique my interest more than this guy could.

“Damn, you’re cold,” I heard him say, but I chose to ignore him.

"Rico! Is the trash out yet?" A loud, baritone voice boomed in the air followed by heavy footsteps of a man coming from the elevator. The figure walked towards us. The man was tall, maybe even taller than the garbage guy. He was wearing only a simple loose shirt and khaki shorts as though he was just roaming around his house. But she has to admit, the man looked different, he’s hot as hell. Maybe it’s the Spanish accent or the rugged look. Is he the owner?

Rico frowned, “The garbage is out. You do know I’m not really a part of your cleaning crew, right? How dare you make me segregate shits. Now, I smell like puke and rotten bananas!” He groaned in frustration, looking down at his white shirt.

“Sorry, man. One of my workers just quit, and we’re currently lacking members in the cleaning crew,” The Spanish man said, smiling at his friend named Rico.

“Zakael was here with me a while ago, but you didn’t ask him, Elliot. That’s just not fair. You don’t get to disrespect me like that, man!” Rico complained, his brows knitted.

I pressed my lips, trying to suppress a smile at their humorous debate. Damn, this Rico guy is so funny. Elliot was looking clueless the whole conversation, which made it look even funnier. Poor Elliot, he had to keep his ears up for his friend’s endless rambling.

“Zakael was busy and he had work to do,” Elliot answered, staring at his friend blankly. The man was patient and calm as he spoke, it’s kind of scary. In my case, when I suddenly get silent, something bloody is already brewing inside my mind. Maybe a plan on how to get the person to shut up.

“And you think I don’t?” Rico let out a mocking laugh, running a hand through his dark locks before suddenly stopping to glare at Elliot.

“Whatever, man. I’m out. I still have more important things to do rather than doing the damn garbage.” Rico said, frowning.

“I thought you actually worked here,” I looked at Rico with an amused smile stretching my lips.

“Of course not,” Rico looked at me intently. I don’t recognize him.

“Do you not know me?”

“No, I don’t,” I answered, clueless.

He gasped, “Huh. You really don’t know, do you?”

Elliot laughed, looking amused at the two of us conversing, “He's Rico Astel. The man owns Asco Malls. You don't know him?”

“I don’t, really.” I let out a low chuckle.

Asco Malls is a chain of malls; it is famous all over the country. That means this guy is pretty rich. Looking at him now, he looks like it; he’s pretty, charming, and cocky too. I can now see why.

“I’m Morico Astel, but you can call me Rico,” Rico smiled, cheekily.

“Azalia. Nice to meet you, rich guy,” I replied.

Elliot scoffed, “Oh, he's not the richest,”

Rico glared at Elliot but then he forced a smile towards me.

“Nice to meet you, Az!” Rico smiled, and I gave him a small smile.

“Now, now. You're leaving, right?” Elliot looked over at Rico.

“I am, yes,”

Rico waved at me before Elliot shooed poor Rico away. The latter didn’t have much choice but to leave the club frowning. It was thrilling to witness the friendship between the two strangers. They’re just like me and Ciara at every angle.

Clementine fell silent again now that Rico Astel left the place. Elliot heaved a tired sigh, shaking his head.

“Azalia, right? What can I do for you?” Elliot turned to me with his brow raised. So he is really the owner of the club.

“I’d like to apply as a bartender here,” I pressed my lips when Elliot fell silent for a moment.

“Do you have to interview me or something?” I asked, pursing my lips. If he keeps ignoring me, I’d gladly leave this place in a heartbeat. The last thing I want is an arrogant boss. I have no patience for shits like that.

“No,” He sat down on a stool beside me.

“I don't do boring stuff like that. Usually, Kelly does those things, but she's not available at the moment, so you're stuck with me,” He gave me a playful wink before snapping his fingers and pointing at the glass shelf behind me.

“Now, pour me a drink. I've been kinda stressed these past few weeks,” He leaned in over the counter and held his head low to his intertwined fingers.

“I want a hard one,” He added.

Gee, this dude is bossy as hell.

“How hard?”

Elliot groaned, “The one that can kill me instantly, please,”

I laughed, “Coming up,”