Working in the bar was surprisingly good fun. Ste, of course, had been restricted to the lower floor, the more normal part of the club (Brendan's compassion definitely did not extend to letting him serve rich people.) The punters were funny, and mostly pleasant and in a good mood, and though Rhys had given him a scowl at Brendan's instructions, Jacqui had greeted him with a grin and a quick round up of prices. It was hard to keep all the numbers in his head at once, and even harder when people bought lots of drinks, but he got used to it. It had been letters he couldn't cope with at school. Numbers were fine.
People were having a great time all around him. A bunch of them were singing badly along to the piano, some were playing card games, and lots were chatting animatedly to members of the opposite sex, though, as Ste would have expected, there weren't really enough women to go round. The women who were there, though, were like nothing Ste had ever seen. They were in such bright colours and seemed to shine in the light from the candles.
In amongst it all, though, Brendan seemed to steal a part of Ste's brain at every moment. He wasn't doing anything particularly interesting, just chatting to the odd guest or giving the odd potential trouble maker a death glare, but Ste couldn't stop himself returning his thoughts to the tall dark handsome man. He thought about those hands upon him, the pressure of those hips pushing his own into the hard surface of the sink, his own body's reaction.
But if he wanted to get through today, he couldn't let his mind get lost. He served, he collected, he avoided the pinches giggling girls aimed at his bottom, and pretended not to notice the looks of some of the men. Brendan occasionally disappeared, too.
At one stage, when Brendan had vanished up the stairs, presumably to his special 'ultra-vip', Cheryl suddenly appeared at his elbow.
"Oh, Ste, could you do me a favour?" she blustered, "I only just sent Jacqui off to do something and this broke off."
She dangled a golden chain with a large cross shaped pendant decorated with green swirls. "It's a celtic cross," she explained, "my da gave me it a long time ago. Family heirloom. It'd break my heart if it was broken forever."
Ste took the chain. The clasp was loose, but that seemed to be all that was wrong with it, so Ste squeezed it, then used the bar and a heavy glass to squeeze it further. When they looked again, the clasp was closer. It wasn't fixed properly, but it would stay for now.
"Oh, you Ste Hay, are a life saver. A true gentleman." She turned and lifted her hair off her neck, and Ste took a few moments to realise she wanted him to put the necklace back on her. He did so nervously, worried about the possible reactions of Brendan or Warren, should they walk in and see what could be interpreted as quite an intimate action. Of course, Brendan did choose that moment to return to that part of the bar. He looked at the pair of them thoughtfully for a moment, but didn't comment. Instead he spoke to Cheryl.
"Look, Chez, I've been thinking. You're right, me and Foxy need to sort out our differences, talk it over like men."
"That's what I've been say for weeks!" Cheryl exclaimed, and though Ste had no reason to stay here, he found himself listening on, doubting every word Brendan said despite Cheryl's enthusiasm.
"Of course ye have," Brendan continued, "and I was thinking tonight."
"Oh, babe!" protested Cheryl, "me and Warren have plans tonight!"
Ste realised Brendan obviously knew this already,
"Yeah, sorry," said Brendan, "it's just that I've got the top floor free tonight, and, you know, we want this sorted, don't we?"
"Well…" Cheryl looked very disappointed, "I guess. I mean… OK… I suppose."
"Grand," replied Brendan, "well, I'll get that sorted. Thanks sis."
He kissed her on the check, then marched off, leaving a sad looking Cheryl. Ste felt the need to comfort her, despite his strange sense of dread about the whole thing.
"There'll be other nights," he said.
"Yeah," Cheryl replied, uncertainly.
"And maybe then they'll start getting on…" Ste suggested.
"You think so?" Cheryl asked, hopefully.
'No,' Ste thought, but aloud he said "Maybe."
"Yes," she said, either ignoring or not noticing his lack of conviction. Ste let her. If Ste had learnt anything from Terry it was to mind his own business, and he could carry that on now. However tempting it would be to fail with someone like Brendan around.
"You're new," said a voice close to his ear.
He spun, surprised, and almost brought up the fists he'd learned to keep handy whenever Terry took him by surprise. He managed, just in time, to keep them down by his side. This was no place for fighting, least of all because there was no way he'd win against Brendan or Warren.
The voice belonged to neither. Instead, a stranger gave him a gap-toothed grin.
"Er, yeah," Ste confirmed, "just started today."
The stranger smiled, and said "I'm Noah by the way."
"Ste," replied Ste, though not at all sure it was the right thing to do.
"Must be brave, working for the Bradys," Noah commented, tone friendly despite his words.
"They're alright," Ste protested, though knowing his words were foundationless. So far, Brendan had showed himself to be scary and Cheryl blind.
Noah looked doubting, "Well, Cheryl's nice enough, but Brendan's a nutter, isn't it?"
Ste felt compelled to protect his new boss, "He gave me a job, I ain't complaining."
Noah simply grunted, "Well, watch out for him. I wouldn't cross him any more than I'd cross Danny Houston."
Ste decided to convince himself his stab of protective annoyance came from not know who Danny Houston was. He didn't like feeling thick. "Well, if Brendan's so bad, how come you drink here?"
The stranger smirked, cheekily, "He may be dodgy, but he's got a good taste in barmen."
Ste blushed, and turned to do some work. Any work.
"Hey, don't run off," Noah protested.
"I've got to get on with me work, me," Ste replied.
"Wait," Noah called after him, sounding genuinely remorseful; "I didn't mean to offend you."
"Oh, you didn't," Ste assured, "I just… you know…"
"Will you be working tomorrow?" Noah asked hopefully.
"Er…"
"I just…" Noah began, but he was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Ste's moustachioed boss.
"And what's going on here?" Brendan asked in a low growl.
"We're just chatting," replied Noah, casually.
Brendan glared at the man, as though he was hoping he'd drop dead from the stare.
"Well, Steven is working," he growled. Ste took the hint, and tried to walk round the pair of them to collect some glasses, but Noah caught his arm.
"What's the problem, Brendan? You don't mind the girls flirting with the customers."
Brendan stared him down, "Who said anything about flirting?" he hissed.
"Come on Brendan, we're just chatting," Noah replied, though clearly aware that he was pushing Brendan's boundaries.
Brendan glared at him a moment longer, then, quietly, said, "Out."
Noah looked shocked, "You what?"
Brendan stepped closer, "I said 'out'. It means get out. Need me to find you a dictionary?"
"You can't throw me out for talking to someone!" Noah protested.
"Can't I?" Brendan hissed.
Noah opened his mouth and closed it again.
"Tell you what," Brendan continued, voice more conversational, "you get out now, and I don't break your legs, how does that sound?"
Noah glanced at Ste, as though hoping he would intercede on his behalf. Ste was not going to do that.
"I don't like to repeat myself," Brendan growled, giving Noah a derisive glance up and down, "whoever you are," he finished.
"I'm going," Noah replied, but dropped his hand from Ste's arm to his hand, "I'll see you around Ste," he said with a smile to the young man, and gave his hand a squeeze before turning and walking from the club, leaving Ste with his probably pissed off boss, though thankfully an otherwise full club which would hopefully restrict said boss's violence.
Ste worriedly looked at Brendan, expecting a dressing down. Brendan's face expression was not a happy one, and he glared at Noah's retreating form. When his gaze moved to Ste's, though, it wasn't the same.
"You alright?" he asked.
"Yeah," Ste frowned, "course."
Brendan grunted, "Yeah." He cleared his throat, "you get anyone bothering you like that, you just come to me, yeah?"
"Er, yeah?" Ste replied, nervously.
"Yeah," replied Brendan, hesitating a moment before he marched off. Ste watched him go, puzzled. But the press of people around him snapped him out of his reverie, and he dashed off about the room to collect glasses.
The rest of the night flew by in a blur, and at the end of it all Ste considered hanging around. He really wanted to find out more about Brendan, checking out what he had planned, but he decided against it. Brendan would not approve, however mixed the signals were. Ste went home with a cheery goodnight to a slightly lonely looking Cheryl, and a curious glance at the two men disappearing up the stairs, alcohol in hand, and twin mischievous expressions on their faces.
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