06-21-2015, 05:26 PM
Claire grabbed a trio of porcelain cups off the bar's workstation and deftly balanced them on her tray. Lydia, their barrista and bartender - the place couldn't afford both to work simultaneously - looked up. "That one's the decaf," she pointed, reading the questioning look that arched one of Claire's brows high. Like other restaurants, they had their system to signal things like that. A soda positioned on the corner of a ticket meant it was diet. A cup with the handle angled toward the bar side meant decaf, or so Claire thought. "Damn!"
She said, sure she had it right that time. "Thanks Lyds,"
she winked and took off to deliver the drinks.
She passed the table of gunmen on the way and made sure she caught at least one of their eyes as she did. She was dying to take them something else, just so she could listen to more of their strange conversation. In spared moments she wondered what they did for a living. Each had his own dangerous air about him that reminded her of Tony's friend Michael, but she didn't imagine them as soldiers. It was like they were cowboys of the wild west stopping to wet their throats at the local saloon. In that case, wouldn't that make Claire some sort of prostitute? Well, at Kallisti she wasn't much better despite the hands' off policies Oriena instilled. Either way, she was making good money between the two jobs. And in both places she found moments of entertainment where she could.
She wound lithely between the tables and delivered straws, napkins and answered questions about the menu with a smile. She took a food order and stopped by her cowboys' table on the way to the kitchen. "Can I get you two anything else?"
She toyed with her tablet pen between her fingers as she asked. Maybe a female slave for the night? Her grin quirked ornery as her imagination took them places that would make the men at Kallisti quite riled up by the suggestion. Insinuations always went over great there; she had the tips to prove it.
She said, sure she had it right that time. "Thanks Lyds,"
she winked and took off to deliver the drinks.
She passed the table of gunmen on the way and made sure she caught at least one of their eyes as she did. She was dying to take them something else, just so she could listen to more of their strange conversation. In spared moments she wondered what they did for a living. Each had his own dangerous air about him that reminded her of Tony's friend Michael, but she didn't imagine them as soldiers. It was like they were cowboys of the wild west stopping to wet their throats at the local saloon. In that case, wouldn't that make Claire some sort of prostitute? Well, at Kallisti she wasn't much better despite the hands' off policies Oriena instilled. Either way, she was making good money between the two jobs. And in both places she found moments of entertainment where she could.
She wound lithely between the tables and delivered straws, napkins and answered questions about the menu with a smile. She took a food order and stopped by her cowboys' table on the way to the kitchen. "Can I get you two anything else?"
She toyed with her tablet pen between her fingers as she asked. Maybe a female slave for the night? Her grin quirked ornery as her imagination took them places that would make the men at Kallisti quite riled up by the suggestion. Insinuations always went over great there; she had the tips to prove it.