P3 was jumping. The club was still the place to be. It had gone through an update in 2010 but, now everything early 2000s was 'in', so the club had reverted to it's early days and was considered 'retro'. The live bands played mostly cover songs from back in the day. Chris was behind the bar helping Justin, dancing ever so slightly to 'Fergalicious'. The club was so busy tonight that he had even needed to call Wyatt in. He definitely still needed another bartender. He was thankful he finally ordered the ad in the Chronicle.
Pace stood outside the club. He stared at the sign for P3. He felt compelled to go inside the noisy club. He headed down the entrance stairs after flashing his shiny new drivers license to the bouncer at the door. He went straight for the bar and tried to hide his amazement. The place he fled with his family was nothing like this new home. People were happy and celebrating life. He was suffering from severe culture shock. Where he was from, people kept their heads down and struggled to survive. Clubs like this still existed, of course, but they weren't usually so full of raucous laughter, usually just drunken misery.
Chris looked at the newcomer. "What's your poison?" He asked.
"Whatever's on tap," Pace replied.
Chris poured the beer and put the money in the till.
"Are you always this busy?" Pace asked.
"Close, usually it's not this bad though." Wyatt answered, sitting next to Pace.
"Hi. I'm Wyatt Halliwell," He introduced himself. His eyes narrowed a fraction when he saw the man give a little start. Of recognition?
"Pace Bennett," Pace shook Wyatt's hand.
Now it was Wyatt's turn to display recognition, "My grandfather is Victor Bennett." Wyatt looked inquiringly at Pace.
"Bennett's a fairly common name. Not sure I know any Victors though," Pace replied.
"Wyatt shrugged good naturedly and made a promise to keep an eye on 'Pace Bennett', he'd learned that coincidences aren't usually accidental and for this intriguing young man to show up today was slightly suspicious.
"I'm new in town," Pace continued, "Are you hiring?"
"How'd you know?" Chris had just come back to that side of the bar in time to hear the question.
"Restaurants and bars, usually lots of employee turnover," Pace answered with a smile, "Both are almost always in need of someone."
"You ever tend bar?" Chris asked.
"Couple of times," Pace answered, not entirely truthful. But these two would never believe him if he told them the truth!
"Tell you what, we're really slammed tonight. Hop back here and show me what you got. If you are any good, you got a job. My name's Chris, Chris Halliwell."
Pace showed no outward sign of recognition at the name. Wyatt wondered if perhaps he was more prepared. He wished Chris had not offered him the chance at the job, but then he shrugged internally, it would be easier to keep an eye on Pace if he worked at P3.
"Pace Bennett," Pace shook hands with Chris.
"I have a grandfather…" Chris began.
"Victor Bennett, no relation." Pace inserted. Then seeing the look on Chris' puzzled face, he added, "I already had this conversation with your brother."