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Icontinued to sneak looks at the angry mortal who appeared to be the ruler of the facility as the night wore on.
Fetching cups and cleaning spills was work that the nymphs usually fulfilled. It was more tiring than I thought, especially while being sapped of my godly powers. Did the mortals do it for fun? Did they have overlords who demanded it of them?
The man at the bar had appeased the angry female with paper. Was he the overlord?
It was all far too confusing, but helping the woman clean had seemed to calm her rage.
Her hair was dark and pulled up on top of her head in some sort of shiny black clip. The temptation to free the strands so I could see them fall about her lovely face was overwhelming. She wore a small apron about her waist, which cinched in above her round behind, accentuating her soft curves. Whenever she caught me staring, I dragged my eyes back to whatever task I had in hand, an unfamiliar feeling blooming in my chest. Was it attraction? Embarrassment? It seemed to be a load of emotions smashed together.
I used a piece of fabric she’d thrust at me to clean the tops of the aged seats by the bar, spraying them down with a delicious smelling liquid which didn’t taste at all like the citrus fruit on the bottle.
The old man, Jack, was the sole remaining patron, and he muttered to himself while I cleaned.
‘I carved our names on that stool the night I met my wife,’ he said with a slow drawl.
‘That’s sweet,’ the pretty mortal said over her shoulder as she replaced some bottles that were suspended upside down behind the bar.
‘Not really. She fucked my brother and ran off to have his babies.’
I glanced at Jack, suppressing a cough.
‘Your brother did?’
‘Sure as hell.’
‘Okay, Jack, it’s time to get you off home. Your taxi is outside.’ She helped him into his coat before ushering him toward the door. I continued to wipe down seats and tables until she returned. With Scout having left earlier, it was just the two of us.
A palpable tension thrummed in the room.
Could she feel it?
Or did I imagine it?
Locking the door, she leant back against it, the tension between intensifying as we stared at each other in the silence of the empty bar. Her eyes widened as she looked at me, darting down to the cloth in my hand before coming back up to my face.
‘Uh, thanks for helping. You can probably get going.’ She stepped away from the door and unlocked it with a grunt as she wobbled and pulled on the handle, finally opening it.
‘Thank you for not calling your cops on me,’ I said, trying to give what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
‘There’s time yet.’
‘It’s Eva, right?’ The cold air from outside brought my flesh up into goosebumps as I neared the open door.
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m Amor.’
‘Like love, in Spanish?’ A smile played at the edge of her lips. It enraptured me.
‘Something like that.’
‘Right. Well. Thank you anyway. I need to get cleaned up for tomorrow.’
She moved aside as I braced myself for heading out into the frosty night. My stomach rumbled as I passed her, and she reached over and grabbed my arm.
Her touch was like a searing fire, sending warmth shooting up into my chest. She let out a small gasp before snatching her hand back and swallowing audibly.
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I was just going to ask if you wanted to take a bag of chips or nuts when I heard your tummy rumble.’
