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Reluctantly, I step out from behind the bar, feeling uneasy. As I reach for the bottle, maintaining as much distance as possible, he suddenly extends his hand, his fingers grazing my ass in a deliberate move. I recoil instinctively, a jolt of anger surging through me.
"Don't fucking touch me," I say firmly, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.
His eyes flash up to mine, a mix of surprise and irritation flickering in them.
I quickly retreat behind the safety of the bar, my heart racing. The man's behavior has shifted the air around us, charged it with a tension I'm desperate to escape. I feel a shiver run down my spine, a reminder of my vulnerability in this unfamiliar place.
I focus on arranging the glasses, trying to regain my composure. My mind races with thoughts of what could have happened, reinforcing my decision to take self-defense classes. I can't let my guard down, not even for a moment. In this new life of mine, staying vigilant is not just a choice; it's a necessity.
As the man saunters to the opening of the bar where we go in and out to serve patrons sitting at the tables.
“You can’t come back here,” I warn him, but he keeps moving.
He reaches to touch me again and I can only see red. My body moves without thinking first, and suddenly I have the man pinned to the bar, his head on the counter, my hand wrenching one of his arms behind his back in some move that I practiced seven or eight times since starting self-defense classes.
I grabbed his head and pressed it harder against the countertop. “I’m going to give you five seconds to calm down, then I’m going to step back so you can go back to your seat. If you talk to me, touch me, or even look at me for the rest of the time you’re here, I’ll make sure you leave here with more than a headache. Got it?”
“Yeah, lady. Look, sorry, sorry. I’ll leave you be,” he says nervously.
I swiftly step back, putting space between us. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of fear and adrenaline, but there's also a newfound empowerment filling my chest.
"Good," I assert more firmly this time, my voice laced with a confidence that surprises even me.
The man looks at me, surprise on his face, his drunken bravado all sobered up now that he knows I’ll stand my ground.
I feeling an odd blend of satisfaction and sadness. Here I am, defending myself, something Antonio always wanted me to do for me. Yet, in this moment of self-reliance, I can't help but long for his protection, for the security his presence always brought.
The bar feels colder now, the atmosphere tinged with tension. This is my reality now, and I have to be ready for whatever it throws at me. I won’t be a victim again.
I finish wiping down the bar for the last time that evening, still shaken but steadier now. Jeanie shows up and a female customer near the door motions to her and talks to her quietly. Jeanie nods, her gaze on me as the lady continues to talk to her, then I see her lips press into a tight line as she walks my way.
She's always had an intuitive sense for trouble. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, flick to the man who had been hassling me, then back to me. Without a word, she walks over to him, her presence commanding despite her small stature.
Her voice crosses the bar. "Is there a problem here, Jonas?"
"No problem at all," the man says dismissively. "Just trying to have a nice conversation with the lady here."
Her gaze hardens as she crosses her arms over her chest. "I think she made it clear that she's not interested. Now I suggest you leave before things get bad for you."
The man huffs, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "Fine, have it your way. But she'll come around eventually."
"If you feel that way then don't come back," she says firmly to the man.
The man, now sobering under Jeanie's stern gaze, mumbles something under his breath and stumbles out of the bar. Jeanie watches him go, ensuring he leaves the premises, then turns to me with a concerned look.
"Are you okay, Talia?" she asks, her voice soft but filled with an underlying strength. “Florence told me everything.”
I nod, managing a small smile. "Yes, thanks for being here."
She pats my shoulder gently and I let out a shaky breath, grateful that she intervened. "No problem at all."
"I didn't know how to handle him."
She grins, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's not the first time he's come in here making trouble for my younger staff. Just glad I could help."
I nod, my hands still trembling slightly. "I appreciate it. I'm just trying to do my job and keep things peaceful."
She gives me a sympathetic look. "Well, it's not always easy, especially when dealing with people like him. Just remember that you don't have to put up with any unwanted advances. You deserve respect."
