She's Awfully Pretty

At 5:00 PM, Quinn turns off her alarm and checks on Iain. He is still passed out in bed. She writes a note and tapes it to his door. She hopes he sees it when he wakes up. She then dresses and sikes herself up for sneaking out. She makes it to the bus stop at 5:45 PM. The bus is due to pick up at 5:47. Thankfully, it is on time, and she slips into her seat surveying the area outside. Only bus riders around. Quinn sighs and is grateful for the clean escape.

At 6:28 PM, the bus drops Quinn a block from the bar and she surveys her surroundings again. No scary thugs in sight. She walks through the bar doors at 6:35.

“Must not have felt too bad. You even showed up early.” Ciaran gives a half smile then returns to wiping down the bar.

“I feel like death warmed over. But even if I die, I still need this job.” Quinn makes her way into the backroom and grabs an apron from the hook. There is no time clock. Everyone works on the honor system. Ciaran pays you for the hours he schedules you. This mainly benefits him. One does not get paid if one is early or stays late. However, one still gets the same pay if one is late or closes early. But those things rarely occur. Ciaran lives above the bar, so he always knows everyone’s comings and goings. Quinn is sure he has cameras hidden in the bar as well.

Quinn hopes that the bar will stay slow, and she can find a regular patron to drop her by her house. She is not thrilled about going home alone tonight. She peeks her head out of the backroom and realizes she will not have to worry about going home. The two thugs are taking up residence at the bar nursing beers and scanning the room for her.

She ducks back into the room and collects herself. They are not just going to grab her in public. No matter what, there is someone always in the bar. Too many witnesses for a kidnapping. She inhales then pushes through the door. She struts to the back of the bar and begins taking customers’ orders on the other side. If she ignores them, maybe they will go away. She knew she would not be that lucky, but at least Iain was safe at home.

After an hour, Ciaran notices Quinn avoiding the side of the bar inhabited by the thugs. He hovers over her and clears his throat.

“Is there some reason you don’t want to serve the left side of the bar?” He waits for her to turn around then takes a step away from her.

“The two large men on the end will not stop staring at me.” Quin hopes she can get them kicked out.

Ciaran glances over at the men and back at Quinn. He then makes his way to the left side of the bar. Quinn strains to hear the conversation developing.

“Do you have some problems with my bartender?” Ciaran places a glass on the counter in front of the thugs and pretends to wipe around it.

“Not at all.” The larger of the two men states.

“She’s awfully pretty.” The other one adds.

“She’s not interested.” Ciaran deadpans.

“We haven’t even asked her anything yet.” The larger one winks at Ciaran. “She maybe into it.”

“I highly doubt that.” Ciaran moves closer to the men and Quinn cannot hear his next remark.

The two men immediately stand and place a stack of bills on the counter. The looks they give Ciaran are a mix of fire and fear. They back out of the bar and Ciaran hands the bills to Quinn.

“Consider it hazard pay.” Ciaran laughs as he places the money in her hands.

“What did you say to them?” Quinn’s eyes are wide with curiosity.

“Just reminded them whose place this is.” Ciaran pours a beer for a nearby patron.

“Who’s place is it?” Quinn cocks her eyebrow.

“Mine.” Ciaran winks. “Get back to work. I don’t pay you to dawdle.”

Quinn makes her way to the left side of the bar and serves the customers she has been neglecting all night. Ciaran stays with her in the bar until close. Neither of the thugs make another appearance.

“Let me walk you to your car.” The question comes out as a command.

“I took the bus.” Quinn glances at her watch, hoping she can make the 2:30 AM route.

“Then let me drive you home.” Again, a command.

“It’s okay. You live here. I will be fine. I do not want to put you out.” Quinn’s voice emanates little conviction in her words.

“What will put me out is if something happens to you and you cannot show up for work. Consider it good business.” Ciaran pulls keys out of a drawer under the bar.

Quinn did not even know he owned a car. In the eight years she has been at the bar, she never saw Ciaran leave. Ciaran guides Quinn down the back stairs to the basement. Quinn had noticed the garage door in the alley when she took trash to the dumpsters, but thought it belonged to another building. Actually, she never thought about it at all.

The basement is off-limits to staff and patrons. Ciaran unlocks the door and holds it so Quinn can step inside. Quinn blinks several times to take in the spectacle. The basement must be under the entire block. It looks like an auto dealership. Quinn tries to count the cars but gives up. The different makes and models fascinate her. How was all this right under her feet and she never noticed?

“I believe your favorite is the 1969 Camaro SS.” Ciaran points to a shiny black car with white hood stripes. Quinn lets out a little squeal and runs towards the car.

Her eyes stretch open as she examines the vehicle. “It’s a 1969. This must be worth a fortune.” She runs her hands over the curves. Her fingers trembling.

“It has the Big Block V-8. I stuck with the manual. Makes it so much more fun to drive.” The smile on Ciaran’s face is something Quinn has never seen before. He almost looks human.

“Can we take this one?” Quinn’s voice quivers at the thought of sitting in such a beast.

Ciaran grabs a set of keys from a box on the wall and throws them at Quinn. Quinn barely catches them but holds them up proudly after they settle in her hands.

“Can you drive a stick?”

All Quinn can muster is a nod. Is he really going to let her drive the car?

“Good! Let’s go.” Ciaran opens the driver’s side door for Quinn, and she stares at him.

“Don’t you want to get home?” Quinn looks like a statue, her mouth fallen open and her eyes barely blinking.

She stutters out the words, “You want me to drive?”

“I usually don’t give people the keys to my cars if I don’t want them to drive.” Ciaran motions toward the driver’s seat.

As if suddenly realizing he is serious, Quinn gives Ciaran a kiss on the cheek and hops into the seat. Ciaran closes the door and joins her from the passenger side.

She starts the car, and Ciaran rests his hand on hers on the shifter. She flinches at his touch.

“What was that for?” Ciaran asks softly.

“What?” Quinn wonders if she is doing something wrong.

“The kiss?” Ciaran’s voice trails off.

“Oh.” Quinn turns to Ciaran. “Just showing my appreciation. I never thought I would sit in a car like this, let alone drive one.”

Ciaran touches his cheek and gives Quinn a half smile. He then frowns. “Well, don’t do it again. It is inappropriate.”

Quinn jerks at his sudden mood shift and snaps. “Yes, sir. Boss!”

Quinn detects a slight mischievous look cross Ciaran’s face at her retort. But she may have been just imagining it. Ciaran presses a button on the key ring in his pocket and Quinn can hear the garage door lift. She puts the Camaro in reverse and backs out of its spot in between the other cars. She carefully drives towards the open door, lurching up an increasingly steep floor grade.

Once out of the garage, Quinn steers the car down the alley and past the bar’s parking lot. The two thugs are waiting in a Mercedes. Their focus is on the front door of the bar. Quinn drives past undetected.

“Do you have anyone at home with you?” Ciaran asks.

Ciaran never asks about Quinn’s personal life. She realizes he does not know she lives with her brother or even where she lives. He has never asked if she had a boyfriend, family or even how her day is going.

“My brother is home.” Quinn replies.

“Yeah, Iain. Anyone besides him?” Quinn senses concern in Ciaran’s voice.

“How do you know my brother’s name?” Quinn’s question is curt.

Ciaran shrugs. “I listen.” The statement made as if he always knew this.

Quinn searches her brain for any occasion where she might have mentioned her brother at the bar. She kept her personal life personal. She could not think of any.

“No. Just Iain.”

“I will spend the night then.” Ciaran does not give Quinn time to protest. “Park the car out front. I will sleep on the couch.”

“I have a spare bedroom.” Fighting every instinct to argue and send Ciaran back to the bar, Quinn knows it will be safer tonight if he is there.

“I will take the couch. I’ll be in the front room if someone tries to break in. I’m a light sleeper.” Ciaran helps Quinn out of the car.

How does he know my couch is in the front room? Quinn shakes her head. Maybe he is making an assumption. Almost everyone’s couch is in the front room.