Day 6! No beta this time because I am terrible at writing at reasonable hours of the day. Enjoy!
For the last week or so, ever since Henry started coming into the bar and she ripped up that contract in front of Victoria's face, Roni has been noticing an unfamiliar face lingering at the door to her bar. Everyday, bang on 8.15pm, he'll stand there, peering in for thirty seconds or so and then he'll walk away.
The first couple of nights, she passed it off as him being curious, maybe someone craving a drink but talking himself out of it at the last minute. But now she's not so sure.
"Henry, hold the fort, will you?" Roni asks, throwing down a damp towel behind the bar. She chuckles at Henry's confused Uh, okay? while she's walking with purpose towards to door.
The unknown man has scurried away by the time her hands push against the textured wood, but she steps out into the cool street anyway, lets the mild wind brush against her bare shoulders, ruffle her curls a little bit. She looks left, looks ahead, and when she looks to her right, she catches a glimpse of his back walking away.
"Hey!" She yells through cupped hands against her mouth, "You!" She has his attention. He turns around to face her, confused, even turns to look in other directions to see if there's anyone else she could be calling out to. "No, it's you," she confirms.
They walk towards each other to meet in the middle, the heels of her ankle boots clicking against the concrete until he's towering over her slightly.
"Who are you?" She asks, perching her hands on her hips, tilting her head up.
"Excuse me?" She's as surprised by his accent as he is by her question, not expecting the English drawl at all.
Roni snorts a scoff, pointing over her shoulder to the sign outside, "You stand outside my bar every night and then disappear. Why?"
She immediately can tell that he's nervous, embarrassed almost. The dimples in his cheek soften as his face falls and rubs behind his neck charily, choking on his own words, "I… uh…"
Roni eyes him up and down, trying to place him. He's in a suit, one that's pristinely tailored, and the side bag hanging from his shoulders screams businessman. He's giving off the vibe of Victoria's dirty-doers. "You're not one of Belfry's spies are you?" She asks, narrowing her eyes to study every way his face moves, looking for anything that'll give him away. He chortles as if she's just insulted him, telling her firmly that while he unfortunately works for Victoria, he hardly a spy, and seems pretty genuine about it. "Then why are you here?" She asks.
"I…" he chokes on his words again, sighing as he asks, "Would you believe me if I said I don't know?"
"You don't know why you stand outside to my bar every night?"
"I don't even know why I come to your bar," he confesses and gestures to the bench on his left, inviting her to join him as he sits, "I drive twenty minutes out of my way on my commute home." She crosses her legs and leans her back into the arm of the bench to get another good look at him. "Victoria has been talking about your bar for months, she was furious last week when you didn't sign that contract…" Roni smiles proudly at that, and he laughs softly, "Maybe it was all the talk of your place, but something pulled me here. I feel like I need to be here."
"But you never come inside" Roni shrugs her shoulders curiously, clasping her hands together with linked fingers in her lap.
"It's strange. When I get here, I walk right up to the entrance and I think I'm going to be able to walk through that door…" he slaps his hands to his thighs, "and then I feel this pit in my stomach, almost as if I'm afraid to come inside."
Roni shakes her head, assures that, "The only things to fear in there are a couple of my regulars and their questionable music taste."
She makes him laugh comfortably, but he's still lost as to his own actions, explaining that he still can't explain it. "I'm sorry, if i've been making you uncomfortable or-"
"I'm not," she smiles tightly. She senses a pain in him and suddenly a familiarity - something about his situation, the bar, the fear of entering. "Hey, do you think we've met before? Maybe we've crossed paths and that's why you're feeling uneasy," She asks, unable to shake the unexpected feeling.
"I doubt I'd ever forget meeting you," he shakes his head at her suggestion.
She hums in agreement, a face like his is hardly one she could forget. She stands from the bench, "How about the next time you feel the need to stop by, you actually come inside? There's no point living your life staring through the window of a bar and letting fear take over," she winks before adding, "I'll even throw in a drink on the house."
He nods and smiles tightly as he stands to join her, and he stretches his hand out politely, introducing himself, "I'm Robert, by the way."
"Roni," she takes his hand easily, shaking it kindly. "I should really get back to work."
"Right," he nods, but still neither of them want to let go of the other's hand. They've stopped shaking, but it's as if their skin has fused together and neither can budge.
"Did you want that drink now?" She asks.
"I'd like that."
