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She continued to walk out of her father's office—laptop obtained and mission accomplished—and didn’t missed the way Adam's face drained of color.
She looked around the Snake Pit, and noticed how the table of people closest to Chance's office raised their beers in Mykie's direction. Did they hear what she said to Adam and enjoy the show, or was it just a greeting?
While questioning the odd gesture, Mykie almost walked in the middle of a darts contest if not for the quick screams warning her. As crazy and loud as the Snake Pit was, especially on a Friday night, it made the professional and downright scary atmosphere that the Cantils showed to the world melt away into a place that felt like a children's fun zone. Young and older Cantils joined together at night to make deals, discuss business, and have a damn good time with those they didn't have to hide their unorthodox behaviors from.
The Snake Pit let the animals run wild in a contained environment, which was exactly what Mykie loved about the place.
She looked around, noticing a few tables hosting a few Hatchlings on the edge of the room. “Hatchlings” were those that were brought into the fold that were approved and were usually relatives or partners that were serious enough with a Cantil that they were allowed downstairs. Those who brought their partners needed to agree that they would take responsibility for whatever they might do when they leave the walls of the Snake Pit, and nothing that was said down there would be revealed to the outside world. If you laid claim on a Hatchling, they were considered untouchable without earning that specific Cantil member’s ire. It was for the protection of your loved one, and typically there wasn’t really a fuss about any Hatchlings, or the way things were done with them.
In a way, the relationship between the Cantil and their Hatchlings was just as serious, if not more so, as a deal with Chance.
Hatchlings were people important enough for the Cantils to want to protect and keep close, and for Chance to allow that, a price needed to be paid. Sometimes that came in monetary payment, but other times, a price was paid by accepting the dangerous jobs that the news always reported on.
Many Initiates were brought in under the pretense of being a Hatchling. If the Hatchling was old enough and intended to join, they were the ones who paid, not the Cantil. Chance never took Mykie as a Hatchling, afraid to reveal her too early and risk her safety due to her father’s death, but everyone knewofher. Mykie knew her own initiation was strange and easier than most, but a lot of people chalked it up to her being Chance's daughter. However, Mykie believed she proved herself ten-times over since she joined the Cantil.
She took the stairs two at a time that led out next to the bar. Once she opened the door, she was blasted back a step from the change in volume between the Snake Pit and Pearl's. She never got used to it, no matter how many times she used the door.
She opened the half-door connected to the bar and immediately got to work.
"Great timing, Myk!" Jezebeth Young yelled over the noise, pouring a Screwdriver into a glass for one of the patrons sitting at the bar. Mykie's roommate and the only girl friend she had must have been roped into working tonight as well. It explained why she didn't answer when Mykie called out to her before she left to come to Pearl's. "Can you take drinks to some of the tables?"
"I've got work to do back here," Mykie explained, pointing to the laptop. "Can't you do the tables while I handle the people at the bar?"
Jezebeth shook her head, her green hair flying with the gesture. "You know how much I hate it out there. Leave the laptop here and you can work on whatever project you've got later. I've already got a good following." She winked, gesturing with her head towards the men crowded around the counter. Jezebeth was a natural when it came to serving at the bar. She bled sex appeal due to her talents as a prodigy dancer, which she used every chance she had. She also knew how to pull off the "pouty lip" look that got men panting—a skill Mykie had been trying to master ever since she met the older girl.
Mykie sighed but nodded. After all, it was Mykie's fault for arriving so late that Jezebeth had a good enough crowd going. If Mykie forced her to work the floor, then the patrons at the counter might slow down buying drinks or stop altogether.
"Alright. Which tables have you made already?" Mykie asked, setting the laptop on the back counter.
Once she was done serving another drink, Jezebeth came over to her and grabbed a platter before she started to pile drinks on. "That section goes to table five. That one to table seven, and the other one to table twelve."
Jezebeth pointed out the three different sections before she hit Mykie's ass lightly. "Go get 'em, tiger. Break a nose or two if they get too handsy out there, alright?"
Mykie nodded firmly before she pushed the gate open again and set off on her adventure across the busy dance floor. The floor was designed so the left of the bar was dedicated to the dancing and club aspect of Pearl's while the right was dedicated to the pub and drinking. However, the way the bar area was designed, Mykie would have to make it through a small section of the dancers waiting near the bar before she would reach the tables. She took a deep breath before she attempted to swerved and maneuvered her body around the edge of the crowd—less gracefully than Jezebeth would have done it—and she was proud when she didn't drop anything by the time she reached the first table.
"Gin and Tonic, Sex on the Beach, Black Russian, and two Bloody Mary’s?" Mykie asked, checking that she had all the right drinks for the table. The group nodded and held up a hand for their drink when Mykie listed the names off again and she passed them out. She set the receipt for the drinks on the table as she moved to next one.
She moved over to the next table, repeating the process as she listed off the names of the drinks, the customers held up their hands to their drinks, and gave them the receipt.
"This isn't too bad," Mykie said to herself. She tucked the tray under her arm as she weaved through the tables to grab another batch of drinks. So far, the night was the easiest one she had working the floor.
But, when she went upstairs with another tray of beers to the VIP section, she spoke too soon.
"Hey! Where the fuck is my beer?" A burly man yelled, slamming his fists down on the table. He was the type of man you'd expect to be chopping wood in a forest and chugging beers at the same time. As far as Mykie could judge, he seemed like he wasn’t the usual type she led up to the VIP tables.
She had the unfortunate chance of being next to his table as he yelled, and he grabbed her arm.
"Excuse me?" Mykie squeaked. She attempted to pull her arm back, but the man only tightened his hold. Mykie's free hand moved into a fist, ready to attack if the man persisted, but held back until it was necessary. She didn't want to be called down to her father's officeagainabout hitting a customer that was slightly too drunk to know better.
"You work here, don't you? Where's my drink?" he slurred again, moving to stand up.
"I'll get it for you, sir. If you'd just let go of my hand," Mykie said, tugging her arm again to no avail.
"No... No, you weren't the one," the man said with an exaggerated shake of his head. "The other one had green hair. Where's Greenie?"
Mykie barely held in her laugh. Greenie? Of all nicknames Jezebeth had earned, "Greenie" had to have been the best. It's what the girl deserved for dying her hair such an odd color. She'd tried to convince Mykie to dye her hair something crazy a few months before, but this was yet another reason why Mykie didn't take her up on her offer.
"Uh,Greenieis working at the bar counter. You can go ask her for your drink, if you'd like, or I can go grab it for you," Mykie explained as politely as she could.
