Closing for the Night WHO Zee Chavez OT Flynn Rosewood WHAT Closing up the Aquitaine's bar gives Zee the chance to flirt with Flynn WHEN Saturday, May 6, 2017; 2 AM
Zee loved working Fridays at the Aquitaine. She always started her shift right before Happy Hour, and kept on through closing. The Happy Hour crowd were always the nice, working people of Havenwood, who liked to come in for some polished unwinding before going home to their families. Then came the date shift, couples who stopped by for a drink or two before their night out on the town. Then came the late night visitors, the ones who didn't want to go back to their rooms, but wanted a place a little more civilized than Miller's Tavern down the street.
Yes, Fridays were Zee's favorite day of the week, and not just because they usually netted her the most in tips. People were generally tired on Fridays, so while they were happy to tip well, they didn't get too crazy. Which made her life a lot easier, especially when she announced last call and started to wind things down for the night. She had closing nearly down to a science, and knew just what she could start to do while the last stragglers were finishing their drinks in order to get a head start on things.
This Friday night (technically Saturday morning, but who was counting?), it was just past two when she gently ushered the last patron out with an apologetic look to the woman at the front desk who'd probably have to put up with the same string of solicitations she'd just finished turning politely down. With a shake of her head, she moved to pull the double doors to the bar closed, pausing when she sensed a presence casually approaching.
"Sorry, we're closed for the night," she sighed, until she caught his scent and grinned, raising her eyes to meet those of the hotel's owner, Flynn Rosewood.
"Well, hey there, boss man," she said, her tone much more playful than the moment before. "Come by for a nightcap?"
As the day for Aisling's arrival loomed closer, Flynn got more nervous. When Liber had exiled him, his sister had still been relatively young by Fae standards and Flynn old enough to know better. Now, he could see that he'd pushed the envelope one too many times and that his father had been kind in forcing his favorite son to choose an ultimatum. Still, it hurt to know and be unable to prove that Cavan had stabbed him in the back. Yet, Flynn knew that his fate could've been far worse; instead of exiled, he could've easily been imprisoned all this time for defying Liber — others had for far less — so Flynn counted himself lucky.
However, from time-to-time, Flynn wondered how Aisling took his departure from court. Was it with the grace and aplomb he knew she was capable of? The style of her letter hinted as much, but that was now; Aisling certainly had centuries to move on from the the absence of her older brother. But what of her actions immediately after he'd left? They had developed strong bond and Flynn had certainly missed their sparring matches. Flynn could only guess or imagine how that had affected his younger sibling.
His morose thoughts had driven him from his office to seek a more pleasant atmosphere and company and where better than the bar he owned? Granted, he knew the only occupants present would be Zee and possibly some of her co-workers, but that was infinitely better than brooding by himself with only his brother as company.
Despite the late hour (or early depending on how one viewed two in the morning), Flynn was still impeccably dressed in his light gray suit that sported hints of purple in the cufflinks he wore, the light purple shirt that still looked as if it was freshly pressed, and the deep purple handkerchief stuffed in the front pocket of his blazer.
It was clear from her tone as he approached that she was attempting politeness despite not wanting to accommodate one last customer. Yet, no doubt when she caught his scent, her demeanor just as clearly changed. Flynn was slightly amused by the shift in her mood as he wondered for a brief second if it was to impress the boss, so evidenced by her very own words, but the Fae quickly dismissed the notion. In his regular interaction with the woman, Zee hardly seemed the type to suck up to the big man and that was something he appreciated. She expressed great candor and honesty, traits he admired since they seemed to come in short supply these days.
A grin was given in reply as he lightly replied, "And here I was trying to go for subtle!" In a slightly more serious tone, Flynn added, "Don't let me interrupt your routine." He slipped past the Weretiger and headed toward the bar, "When you get a moment, I'll take a scotch on the rocks."
"Subtle," Zee repeated with a little chuckle, taking a moment to let her gaze take in the whole of the fae's appearance. "You look like you're headed to a board meeting."
Still, she let him pass with a good-natured shrug and maybe a following gaze that lingered a little too long on his perfect ass. She did love how pretty Fae always were, at least the ones she'd encountered. With a soft cluck of her tongue and shake of her head, she pulled the doors shut behind them and headed back behind the bar.
"One scotch on the rocks coming right up," she announced as she grabbed a glass from under the counter, flipping it over onto the bar with practiced flair.
Next came a crystal clear sphere of ice, over which she poured a generous amount of the best scotch they had. Finally, with a playful grin, she dropped a little umbrella into the glass and set it in front of Flynn. There seemed to be something of a dour air about him, so she figured a little fun wouldn't hurt to help lighten the mood.
"So what brings you in tonight, boss?" she asked lightly, half-turning her attention to counting out the nearby register.
Perhaps he'd spent too much time in his head the last few hours because the comment made over his attire puzzled him a moment. At Court, one always strived to look their best and it was a viewpoint he applied to himself even here amongst the mortals. In the next second, he had to gently remind himself that many of those in his employ that weren't Fae, were mostly unaware of the aesthetic expectations of the Sidhe. The frown marring his features quickly smoothed back to its jovial expression as he took a seat at the worn yet strictly maintained mahogany counter.
"To be fair, I did attend one today," Flynn admitted with a chuckle. Anyone that paid attention to the financial section of any major newspaper — or any tabloid for that matter — knew that the Aquitaine was not Flynn's only source of income. His billions certainly didn't come from the quaint little hotel alone, but its branch of AMETHYSTRO, Inc. In fact the hotel was the only part of his company to reside within town limits. Given the almost countless branches, one tabloid had playfully dubbed him the Bruce Wayne of the real world. It was a moniker he found amusing since it was not entirely inaccurate. Flynn may not dress up as a bat and fight crime, but he did keep a portion of his true identity a secret. There were many facets to the outward appearance of Flynn Rosewood, his clothing being just one. However, an effort was made to look less like Boardroom material.
A sigh accompanied the bartenders question as he slipped out of his blazer, folded it neatly in half and draped it across the stool to his right. As Flynn rolled up his sleeves and Zee mixed his drink, he made another admission.
"It was getting a little morose in my office and Toby can only stand so much of me when I'm in a mood." The corners of his mouth twitched into a grin upon seeing the little umbrella in the tumbler when it was served and with a chuckle, he plucked it from the amber contents and stuck it behind his ear.
"See? You're already improving it," he said with a wider grin and a wink as the glass was lifted and a gulp of scotch was taken. As it was top shelf, the booze was smooth and burned pleasantly down the throat, but ultimately, it would do nothing for him. He could drink the whole bottle that evening and there wouldn't be a slur to his words or stumble to his step. That didn't mean, however, he didn't enjoy it as he took another swallow.
Returning the glass to the counter, he nodded toward the cash in her hand, "So, was tonight a success or will I be disappointed later this morning?" He teased and then finished off the last of the scotch in the tumbler.
"I've been told I have a knack for ...improving people's moods," Zee told him, giving her eyebrows a little raise.
His wink hadn't gone unnoticed, and while she normally prided herself on her professionalism when it came to interacting with management, her immediate supervisor had gone home long ago. No one was there to scold her for flirting a little with the owner, especially since it seemed harmless. Flynn Rosewood was known for being Havenwood's most eligible playboy bachelor, and she wouldn't be surprised if he had a late night rendezvous lined up after he left the Aquitaine. She was hardly the type desperate for attention, anyway.
It also just so happened that it all fit into the narrative Cavan had forced her into. Cozying up to Flynn, getting him to trust her. It gave her ulcers from time to time, but she'd been in the service industry long enough that putting on a pleasant, flirty face was as natural as breathing for her.
When he asked about how business had been, she threw him another sideways grin.
"Depends on how much you catch me skimming tonight," she teased, filling out the deposit slip. "Tips only get a girl so far, you know."
Without missing a beat, a look of pure shock lit across his face accompanied by the words of, "I am shocked, madam, just shocked you would do such a thing! Don't I pay you enough?!" A second later his expression changed to deep amusement, a grin on his lips as he stood and picked up the empty tumbler. Making his way behind the bar, two fingers of scotch was added to the glass once again before he turned to the bartender. With a flourish of his free hand, a crisp one hundred dollar bill appeared in it and Flynn gallantly bowed toward Zee.
"Your tip, mi'lady!" He declared, a chuckle tumbling free as he rose and the left the bar once the bill was retrieved to go sit at the piano that was placed to one side of the large room. Like the counter, it was old, yet meticulously maintained. Once Flynn was settled, a jazzy tune permeated the room, the air becoming more professional as concern crept into his visage.
"Seriously, though. Everything went smoothly tonight? Anyone with an issue I need to be made aware of?" If everything was going well at the hotel, it was one less worry to brood over. Except, of course, that meant he had more time to brood over his sister, which meant brooding over Cavan, which meant admitting to how nervous he was about Aisling's visit. Why did his family have to be so complicated?
There was a long moment when, as Flynn held out her hundred dollar tip, she contemplated offering her cleavage as its receptacle. It was looking good tonight, thanks to the plunging v-neck and lacy black bra she was wearing to inspire her customers to be just a little more generous. But she decided it would be a little too desperate and settled for taking the bill and making a showing of checking if it was genuine before tucking it away in her bra herself.
"You're the best, bossman," she said with a grin, watching for a moment as he crossed to the old piano. Cavan's orders or not, he still had one of the best asses in town.
"Seriously though," she echoed, switching to business mode, "everything's going great. See for yourself."
She zipped up the pouch with the deposit and rounded the bar with it to hand it over. Even without all the credit card slips, it was nearly bursting with neatly counted and bundled cash.
"The real question is, is everything good with you?" she asked, resting a hand on the piano.