The Bartender นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The male bartender answered before turning his back to finish polishing the glass in his hand and arranging his order He looked around in the bar, some people were having fun and chatting with friends while some were there based on their business as their appearance gave it away And some people were alone, just looking out the window and entertaining themselves with their own thoughts, a bottle of beer and a cigarette “There you go sir, one bottle of beer as requested and a shot of tequila” The bartender said as he dropped it off in front of him, he was about turning back to probably arrange another order when Grey stopped him “Thanks, um… sorry I don’t know i

"I’m looking for the man who runs the extraction service." The bartender froze for a micro-second, then resumed wiping the counter. "Don't know what you’re talking about." I reached into my coat and pulled out a stack of hundred-dollar bills. I slammed it onto the sticky wood. "The man with the invite codes. Where is he?" The bartender looked at the money, then at my eyes. She saw the cold death in them. "Back room," she whispered. "But he ain't alone." "How many?" "Two guards. Him."

I mocked him. "It's creeping me out." I added and he grinned at it while he looked away from my gaze. "Here's your martini." The bartender handed. I smiled. "Thanks." The handsome british man stared eagerly at the bartender as he begins to entertain other customers. "A woman who's all alone who curses a lot in public and drinks martini. Not that typical." He begins to speak again. I chuckle. "And none of your business too." He glared at me. "It's just funny to find one."

The kind of song that made you think. He stared at the almost empty cocktail glass in front of him. He wasn’t sure what he wanted more, another drink or a way to disappear, maybe into Daniella’s arm. Just then, he looked up at the bartender. Tall guy, clean cut, with a smooth. You could tell he worked out from his body, but what stood out most was his smile. He had dimples, deep ones. Just the way Becky likes them. An idea hit Lucas. He waved at the bartender.

The bartender walked towards us with smiles on his face. “Good day gentlemen.” She said bowing across for both I and Damond. Damond wouldn't take his eyes off me for a second, as if scared I was gonna throw a punch to his face if he did so. The bartender stood for a second although he was clearly invisible in front of us. “What can I offer you?” The bartender said in a less informal tone, as though sensing the silent war going on on the table. “I'll have whiskey.” I said not taking my gaze off Damond instead.

They seemed like just the kind of fun I needed to get my mind off Tom. “Hey there, gorgeous, what can I get for you?” the bartender asked. “Rum and Coke. Very little Coke,” I told him. “Come on down here big boy and give mama another drink,” a lady at the corner of the bar said. “Hot damn, he’s got a nice butt.” “Yes he does,” said a blonde with pink highlights that appeared to be with her. I checked out the bartender. He had that bad boy kind of vibe, covered in tattoos. He was definitely hot. Maybe? I thought, but when he handed me my drink and our hands brushed, I felt nothing.

Busy travelers urgently bustle here and there while duty-free shops beckon shoppers. Ah-ha. I dart into a bar. I spot a high-top by the window in direct view of the television. I scan the area, finding I am the lone customer. With his back to me stocking bottles, the bartender asks what I would like as I attempt to walk by. I pause at the bar opposite his back. I order, “The Three Wise Men.” The bartender turns, making eye contact with a sly grin upon his warm, chestnut face. His coffee-brown eyes crinkle at the corners. His jaw is dark with the hint of a day or two without a shave.

"Well, for starters, you're my customer. And you seem like you could use someone to talk to." Nysaa rolled her eyes, her defenses still firmly in place. "What, are you some kind of therapist too? You here to psychoanalyze me over a glass of whiskey?" The bartender chuckled, his warm smile genuine. "Not a therapist, just a guy who's seen a lot of people walk through that door with heavy hearts. Sometimes talking helps." "Your whiskey's good," she said, trying to shift the topic away from herself. "What's your favorite drink?" The bartender, appreciating the change in direction, leaned in, his eyes glinting with enthusiasm.

The nurse smiled and assured me she had it under control. “Enjoy yourself, ladies.” Lisa tugged at Tatum’s hand, leading me toward the barstools. The bartender, a shirtless, muscular, deep chocolate brother with dreads, came over to take their order. “Ladies. You’re looking good tonight. What can I get you to drink?” “What about you?” Lisa asked, seductively. I slapped her on the leg. “Ouch!” The bartender gave a soulful laugh. “Sorry, ladies. I’m on the clock, so I can’t partake in any fun.”

*Damon* "What can I get you?" The bartender asked, wiping down on the counter with a small white table cloth. He seemed a little irritated, like bartending was the last thing he had planned to do with his life. Shit happens, I thought silently to myself. It was a little funny how everyone thought they had their life all planned out but then they always fail to remember that life itself was full of surprises. And some are worse than others.