As I stepped outside the station into the sunlight, my thoughts spun.
Should I just go home?
But no, I had just gotten this job. I needed it and I couldn't let this stop me. I'd done nothing wrong.
I raised my hand and stopped a taxi.
"To The Last Drop Bar, please," I said.
The driver nodded. I leaned back in the seat, trying to breathe. I just wanted to work. I just wanted a normal day.
But something told me…it was only the beginning.
After some minutes I stepped out of the taxi and stood in front of The Last Drop Bar. The sun was warmer now, and the noise from inside was louder than before. My heart thumped in my chest. I wasn't sure if coming back was the right thing; but I didn't want to run either.
As I pushed the door open, the smell of roasted meat and beer hit me. Harris looked up from behind the counter and gave me a small, surprised smile.
"You didn't take long at the station," he said, wiping his hands on a cloth. "That's a good sign, right?"
I nodded, trying to smile too. "Yeah… they just asked me some questions."
Harris nodded. "Well, I hope Sir Ivan won't be too long either. Come on…let me hand you over to Amanda. She'll guide you around."
He turned and called out, "Hey, Amanda!"
Amanda came quickly from the back, holding a wet cloth. She looked at me, then at Harris.
"She's ready to start," Harris said. "It's her first time working here. Show her everything."
"Alright." Amanda smiled at me. "Come on, let's get you settled."
Before we walked off, Harris called again. "Nora!"
Nora came in, placing a tray of clean glasses on the counter. She gave me a quick glance.
"Take Lisa to the ladies' department and give her a uniform, please."
"Okay. Lisa, this way," Nora said.
I followed her down a short hallway until we reached a room with lockers and bathroom stalls. It was quiet and smelled of soap.
"This is your locker, the second from the left and the keys are inside," she said.
I opened it and placed my bag inside. Nora opened another locker and pulled out a folded uniform.
"Here you go," she said, handing it to me. "Put that on."
"Thank you."
"I'll leave you now. Can't wait to see you in it," she said with a playful grin, and then let the door shut behind her with a soft slam.
I looked at the uniform in my hands; a neat white blouse, a deep red skirt, and a matching apron. I put it on slowly, smoothing down the fabric. My fingers were shaking a little. I stood in front of the small mirror tucked into the corner of the room. For a moment, I just stared at myself.
The girl in the mirror looked different. Not scared, not confused; just ready to work. I smiled a little and took a deep breath. Maybe this was a new beginning.
When I stepped out, Amanda was waiting for me near the counter. I walked toward her, my legs were light but there was something that felt heavy inside me.
The bar was already filling up. Some customers were talking, some were chewing on skewers of meat, others just staring at their drinks.
Amanda handed me an empty tray and looked me over. "Ready to dive in?" she asked.
I nodded, even though my heart was jumping. "I think so."
"You look good in that uniform," she said, giving me a wink.
I smiled, trying not to blush.
"Come on then, let's get started."
She led me behind the counter. I was caught off guard by how much was there. The shelves were full of green bottles, golden ones, blue glass, all glowing under soft lights. The scent of lemons mixed with the sharp smell of alcohol. Glasses clinked as someone laughed nearby. The whole place felt alive.
"That girl… isn't she the one from the police?" I heard someone whisper.
"Yeah," someone else replied. "They say she's the suspect. The one from Charles Marvin's place."
My smile faded. I kept my eyes on the tray in my hands, pretending I hadn't heard anything, but inside, something twisted. My throat tightened, and my hands gripped the tray harder than before.
I took a deep breath. I wasn't going to let it break me.
"Okay, let's start with the basics," Amanda said with a smile. She reached for a shiny silver shaker and a bottle of vodka.
"This is your best friend now," she added, lifting the bottle in one hand.
I nodded, but I was still thinking about the whispers I had heard earlier. My chest felt tight again. Amanda must've noticed the look on my face because she clapped her hands in front of me, snapping me out of it.
"Hey," she said gently. "Forget them. Focus here, Lisa."
I blinked and looked at her. She smiled, then poured the vodka into the shaker, added cranberry juice, and gave it a good shake. Her hands moved quickly and easily, like she'd done this a hundred times.
She poured the drink into a glass. The liquid was a bright pink, and it looked beautiful under the bar lights. "Easy, right?" she said.
I nodded again. "Yeah… I think so."
"You'll learn the names soon. But for now, just remember how to mix a few simple ones." She moved on to the next one.
"This is a mojito," Amanda said as she dropped some green mint leaves into a glass. She used a wooden stick to crush them. "This is called muddling. It releases the flavor."
Then she picked up a lime, squeezed it, added sugar and some soda, and finished it off with a shake.
"Now this one's a margarita…" she went on.
Her voice was soft but clear. Each drink she made had its own steps, its own little story. I tried to follow every move she made, but part of me was still drifting. I felt like I was floating somewhere between excitement and fear.
Amanda looked at me again. "Don't panic, okay? It's normal to mess up in the beginning. Just ask me if you get stuck. We've all been there."
Her words helped. I smiled a little, nodding. "Okay. I'll try."
"Good." She handed me the shaker. "Your turn. Let's see what you've got."
I swallowed hard and took the shaker. It felt cool in my hands. The metal reflected the bar lights, and for a moment, it looked like something out of a movie.
I glanced at the ingredients. "A mojito," I whispered to myself. "Let's try that."
I grabbed a handful of mint leaves. They smelled fresh and strong. I placed them in the shaker and began to crush them, just like Amanda had shown me. I glanced at her again, hoping for a sign that I was doing it right.
She stood back, arms crossed beneath her chest, her eyes fixed on me. She didn't say anything; just watched.
Next came the lime slices. I squeezed them in, letting the juice drip over the mint. I added a little sugar, then reached for the white whiskey. My hands were steadier now, and I poured it in slowly.
Then I took the ice, I filled the shaker until it was full.
I held it tightly, feeling the cold bite into my palms. I gave it a few hard shakes.
"Don't be shy!" Amanda called out with a smile. "Give it a real shake!"
I laughed a little, more from nerves than anything, and shook harder. The sound of the ice clinking around inside filled my ears. Around me, the bar buzzed with energy. People were laughing, eating, talking, clinking glasses together.
For the first time that day, I felt like I belonged there, and a small smile tugged at my lips.
But then I felt something.
A tingle, like someone was watching me.
I paused, my hand still holding the shaker mid-air. My eyes scanned the room slowly, booth by booth, stool by stool, but no one was looking at me as I thought they were.
Everyone seemed busy; drinking, laughing, talking.
But the feeling wouldn't go away.
I looked again, to the far left corner near the dark wall. I thought I saw movement there, maybe a figure, or a face.
But… no one was there, just an empty chair.
I blinked, my smile fading, and my throat tightened a bit.
"Was I imagining it?" I whispered under my breath.
Amanda walked past me, placing a bottle on the shelf. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I said quickly, brushing my hair behind my ear. "Just thought I saw someone."
She looked at me curiously but didn't push.
I shook off the strange feeling and focused back on the shaker in my hand. Whatever that was… maybe it was nothing, maybe I was just tired or maybe something else was going on.
"Are you expecting someone this morning, Lisa?" Amanda asked suddenly, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts.
My hands froze on the shaker. I glanced at her and forced a smile.
"No… I just…" I paused, looking around the bar that was glowing under the morning light, alive with sound and color. "I just can't believe I'll be working here. The place feels… alive."
It was a lie, a small one. But telling the truth that I felt someone watching me, or maybe that something wasn't quite right felt too heavy to say out loud.
Amanda gave me a curious look, but smiled anyway. "You like the place, don't you?"
"Of course I do," I said quickly, turning back to the drink I was mixing. My fingers moved slowly now, careful not to spill anything. I just wanted to look busy, not nervous.
"You'll get used to it soon," Amanda said. Her voice was friendly and kind. I nodded, even though I wasn't sure.
Just before I could say anything back, the front door of the bar burst open.
The loud slam echoed across the room, cutting through the music and laughter like a knife. Everyone turned to look.
It was Sir Ivan.
He stepped inside like he owned the ground he walked on, and with his sharp eyes he scanned the room.
He didn't look at anyone, he didn't even smile.
He walked straight to where Harris stood behind the counter, counting bottles and noting something in his little book.
Harris looked up, surprised, and straightened his back when he saw him. Ivan leaned in, placing a firm hand on the counter, and whispered something in Harris's ear.
Harris's eyes widened, his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. His face turned pale, like all the color had drained from it. He nodded once, quickly, and then rubbed the back of his neck, clearly shaken.
I watched from behind the bar, still holding the shaker, suddenly forgetting what I was even making.
Ivan turned and walked toward Amanda and me. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor.
Amanda straightened beside me and gave a polite nod.
"Good morning, Sir Ivan," she said.
He gave her a brief look and nodded.
"She's doing well," Amanda added, nodding toward me.
Ivan's eyes shifted to mine.
"Good," he said. His voice was low and deep, but there was something cold about it. "You're learning fast. Keep it that way."
Then, without another word, he walked past us and headed toward the hallway that led to his office.
But as he turned, my eyes caught something on his arm, his right arm.
The scar I had seen earlier that morning; the faint, thin scar that had been on his hand was gone.
My breath caught in my throat and I stared, my heart suddenly pounding in my ears. My mouth went dry. I gripped the shaker tighter, afraid I might drop it.
Was I wrong before?
Did I imagine the scar?
No. I was sure I saw it. It had been there. I had seen it with my own eyes, and now there was nothing.
Amanda was still talking, but I couldn't hear her as my thoughts were racing.
Ivan disappeared into his office, the door clicking shut behind him.
And I was left standing there, cold metal in my hands, and a thousand questions in my head.