AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jacob and Sebastian had argued about whether to shell out for crystal glassware, but in the end had opted for the more economical cut-glass option, primarily since they could be bunged in the dishwasher for cleanup. The selected glassware was fancy enough that they rivaled crystal glasses for elegance and class anyway, in my humble opinion, not that I’d had the opportunity to drink out of crystal very often…or ever. But the glasses they’d chosen were lovely and had a good weight in the palm.
Mr. Kenney wrapped his fingers around the tumbler with as much grace as the object held within them. I found myself transfixed, wondering where else those fingers might prove a delicate and teasing fit.
Goddammit.
Mr. Kenney tilted his head to examine the drink.
“Mmm. Looks delicious.”
“It’s very tasty. Watch out for the absinthe, though.”
He frowned. “Really?”
I laughed. “Nah. It’s only a splash.” I examined him. Perhaps he wasn’t as worldly as he seemed. “Have you had absinthe before?”
“No. Never.” He examined the amber liquid in the glass. “Is it as deadly as the rumors?”
“Deadly? No. It’s…potent. But you won’t see the green fairy, even if you drink a glass of it.”
“Huh.” He examined me as he took a sip. “Mm. That’s tasty. Thanks.”
I nodded and gave him a quick curtsy, because I knew I looked cute as fuck, and it seemed my mission to seduce this man. I wasn’t even sure I wanted him if he was as fickle as he’d proclaimed, but I couldn’t help myself from trying to get him.
“You’re welcome. Now I must go attend to my other customers,” I said, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.
He looked disappointed, which made me inordinately happy.
“Please do flag me down if you need a refill…or really, anything at all.” I glanced to where Patrick was serving drinks to the Youngbloods. “And see that fellow?”
Mr. Kenney smiled, his gaze sweeping over young Patrick. “Oh yes. I was speaking with him earlier.”
I narrowed my eyes for a second, until Mr. Kenney returned his attention to me, at which point I attempted to look concerned and conscientious.
“He’s very new and a tad uncomfortable with all the attention, so maybe just don’t bother him for now? I’m sure he’ll adjust, but I don’t want him to feel overwhelmed on his first shift,” I said, swallowing my guilt and silently apologizing to our new server. “And if you need anything, I’m very happy to oblige.”
We gazed at each other, and I could tell he’d seen through my attempt at dissuasion, because he eyed me sternly for a long moment, during which I felt my cock go completely hard. But then he smiled, and it lit up his face and melted my resolve. And I really didn’t think he wanted to talk to Patrick.
“Of course. I’ll let you know.” He lifted his drink in a salute, and I forced myself to leave him, which proved an excruciating exercise.
Once I was away, though, I wondered if I’d finally lost my fucking mind. What the hell was I doing? Had I been bewitched? I spent the rest of my shift shuffling drinks back and forth from the bar to the patrons, giving Patrick the easy jobs and making sure to keep Mr. Kenney in view and content at all times. I knew he was watching me, and on the few occasions when he wasn’t doing that, I watched him.
I figured the evening could go one of two ways. Either Mr. Kenney would see my burlesque bit with Robin, find it hilarious and ever-so-slightly embarrassing and leave without another word, or worse, scoop up Patrick on his way out somehow…or, he’d see my burlesque bit with Robin and fall completely in lust with me and proposition me, at which point I would tell him that, although I was attracted to him, I didn’t make a habit of going home with strangers who had already confessed to being on the lookout for an amuse-bouche—butwith the taste of victory on my tongue.
At eleven o’clock, Sebastian Declan—Jacob Moriarty’s husband and co-owner of Maverick Molly’s—stepped up onto the stage and tapped a glass with a metal spoon. He was a bit shorter and a lot whiter than Jacob, and in charge of the entertainment aspects of the place. The ringing noise did the job of attracting everyone’s attention. The regulars leaned back in their chairs and clapped, hooting in some cases. They knew what came next.
“May I please have your attention on the stage!” Sebastian asked in a booming bass, flourishing his hand at the curved platform. Both he and Jacob dressed the part of Victorian dandies while at work, with suspendered pants, fancy waistcoats and crisp white shirts. They were in their mid-forties, and sometimes I wondered what it would be like having a sugar daddy or two who happened to own a gay club, but they were pretty big on appropriate workplace behavior and had never made a move on me. They were good-looking guys and very professional, and I might have had the occasional fantasy about being taken to bed after a long shift, but that would never happen.
He stepped down and sat at the apartment-sized piano to the left of the stage as Robin flounced up. Robin gathered his kimono close and held the edges together to hide his racier undergarments. Now he threw it open, drew it off and tossed it to the floor.
The men whistled and clapped. One of the Mr. Youngbloods shouted his name.
Robin took a pose, with one leg forward and his toe in the little shoe pointed, before smiling like a maiden, resting his chin on his folded hands, and starting to sing his favorite little ditty. The crisp white of his Victorian undergarments and the gold embroidery of his corset set off his dark complexion most beguilingly.
“I’m a young girl and have just come over, over from the country where they do things big,” He emphasized the wordbigand glanced down at his crotch, to much laughter. “And amongst the boys,” he said as he gazed at the men surrounding their tables, “I’ve got a lover,”
Hoots.
“And since I’ve got a lover, why I don’t care a fig.” Robin smiled. “The boy I love is up in the gallery,” he said, gazing wistfully at a made-up person in an imaginary gallery. “The boy I love is looking now at me. There he is, can’t you see”—he pointed—“waving his handkerchief, as merry as a Robin”—he grinned and looked directly at the audience—“that sings on a tree.”
