It was a Friday night, which meant he was being kept pretty busy. He always liked these kind of nights, since it meant less people thought it was his obligation to sit there and listen to all their ranting and raving due to his job description. If anyone knew how to stand there, pretend to be listening, and nod or shake his head at appropriate times without giving his input unless it was asked for (some people had learned not to ask), it was Jesse.
He was in the middle of wiping down the counter when he noticed someone taking a seat in the stool situated directly in front of him. He lifted his eyes to address the woman, who he recognized instantly – his bosses daughter, and frequent patron of Brimstone, Emilia Sinclair. He would have known who she was even if he suddenly went blind, thanks to the scent of her perfume, which wafted across the bar as she finally addressed him with words in the form of a demand, of all things. He was hardly surprised and merely did as told, throwing the towel over his shoulder before he reached for the best bottle of whiskey they had, and a shot glass. He set the latter in front of her.
“Bad day?”
He usually didn’t initiate conversation with most people, but she wasn’t most people. It wasn’t as though they ever spoke when he wasn’t on one side of the bar and she on the other, so the label of ‘friend’ didn’t seem appropriate, but there wasn’t any bad will between them either. Their relationship was strictly neutral…though there was something about her that he had always been inexplicably drawn to, and it had more to do with her looks.
She was the daughter of the man who owned the casino though, so he wasn’t about to do anything stupid that might jeopardize his position at the bar, even before he started seeing Claire.