Rex learned right away that Mara Kesson didn't bullshit around when it came to work at The Broken Wheel Inn.
She said, "You said you wanted to work," and she gave him a bucket and mop before the sun had fully risen. "So, get your ass up and do your job."
Rex examined the bucket and then the tavern floor, revealing a lack of thorough cleaning since the bandit's attack. Maybe even earlier than that.
The wood had stains on it that God knows what, and some parts were sticky while others were suspiciously crusty.
"How fucking beautiful it is," he said under his breath.
"What was that?" Mara called out from behind the bar, where she was already counting bottles.
Rex smiled at her and said, "I said it'll be beautiful when I'm done."
Rex thought it was a small win that she let him stay, even though she didn't seem impressed.
He began to mop.
The work was so boring that it was exactly the kind of thing he had been trying to avoid his whole life.
In his world, Rex had perfected the art of using his charm to secure easy jobs, delegating the challenging ones to individuals who valued hard work, and relying solely on his charisma.
However, the world had yet to take notice of his devious methods. He was a nobody with no reputation, no contacts, and no power. All he had was a mop and a bomb strapped to his chest, set to explode in seventy-two hours.
So he mopped. And while he mopped, he watched.
Mara moved around the tavern like someone who had been doing it for years. She knew where everything was without having to look.
She knew how to stack glasses so they wouldn't fall, and she knew just how much pressure to use when cleaning the bar so it would get clean without damaging the wood.
She was good at it. She was the type of woman who would construct something with her own hands and persist in it due to her unwavering determination.
Rex liked people who were good at what they did. It made them more interesting, to be used, of course.
He pushed the mop across the floor and said, "So, how long have you been in charge of this place?"
"Long enough," Mara said without looking up.
"That's not really an answer."
"It's the one you're getting."
Rex smiled, and he already liked this. The pushback with walls protecting it meant that there was something behind them that needed to be protected.
He kept mopping and didn't say anything for a few more minutes, letting the silence last. And Rex knew that humans never liked being quiet because they filled it with words, facts, and holes in their armor.
Mara did speak again, though. "Twelve years ago."
"Heh... I fucking knew it she can't resist to talk more." Rex said in his mind.
"My husband, Garrett, and I bought it together when we got married."
Rex said, "Holy baloney! Twelve years is a long time."
"You must really like this place."
"Well, it's what you call home," she said simply, and there was something in her voice that made Rex stop mopping.
Not exactly sad or feeling bad—just a weariness that comes from carrying something heavy for too long.
"Is your husband around?" Rex asked in a light and casual way. "I thought I should probably meet the other boss."
Mara's hands stopped moving on the bottle she was holding. "He's fishing."
"He goes every morning before dawn and comes back around noon."
"He's some kind of a dedicated fisherman, huh?"
"Something like that."
There it was again. There was a hint of edge in her voice, a fleeting glimpse of disapproval.
Rex put that information away and continued mopping.
As the morning went on, the tavern slowly came to life. A few people who had already been drinking came in looking for the dog's hair to help them get over their hangovers.
Mara bought some carrots and onions from an old woman who was selling them from a basket. She didn't try to get a better deal.
A kid ran in to tell someone that their roof needed fixing, and then they ran back out just as quickly.
Rex kept working through it all. He cleaned the floors, swept the corners, brought barrels up from the basement, and followed Mara's instructions while grumbling.
He was worn out in a way he wasn't used to, but he kept smiling and didn't say anything.
He worked every minute because that was one less minute he would get thrown out. And every time he talked to someone, he had a chance to learn more about Mara, this place, and the angles he could use.
Around noon, a man opened the door and came in.
Rex knew right away that this was Garrett.
He was tall and had broad shoulders, like a man who worked hard instead of going to the gym. His hair was brown and starting to turn gray.
It was pulled back into a short ponytail that was wet from either sweat or river water. His face looked like it would have smiled easily when things were good, but right now it just looked tired.
He had a string of fish, maybe five or six of them, and they were pretty big.
He called out, "Mara~! Honey~!" and his voice was warm even though he was exhausted.
"I got a lot of the catch of the day."
"That area by the old bridge is finally making things again."
Mara's whole face softened when she looked up from the vegetables she was chopping. Rex saw it, but only for a second.
Her eyes softened, her shoulders relaxed, and a previously tightly wound part of her released just a tiny bit.
She loved him. That was clear.
That made everything about this situation so much more interesting for Rex that he can't hide his manipulative smirk.
"This is what makes stealing someone's girl interesting... muehehehe..." Rex said in his mind.
Mara came around the bar to take the fish from him and said, "That's good."
"We can make fish stew tonight."
"The customers will really want to eat that."
Garrett's eyes narrowed a little when he saw Rex. "Who is this?"
"New help," Mara said before Rex could say anything. "On a trial basis."
"He says his name is Rex."
"Rex Rexilion is my full name, good sir," Rex said, putting down his mop and walking over with his hand out. "Thanks for giving me a chance here, you and your wife."
For a moment, Garrett looked at his hand before taking it. His grip was strong and rough, like the handshake of a man who had worked with his hands all his life.
He said, "Garrett Kesson."
"Do you know how to gut fish?"
"Can't say I do," Rex said. "But I learn quickly."
Garrett looked at him for a little longer, then shrugged. "Okay, then."
"You can't just push a mop around all day because it's all boring and tiring! Do something useful and fun so that your job can always make you seem happy."
The moment felt perfectly aligned, almost perfect. Rex had expected it would take days or even weeks to earn Garrett's trust, but it appeared that Garrett was the type of person who extended confidence until someone gave him a reason to withdraw it.
"Come, come, Rex. Let's try something new for your job." Garreth asked Rex to follow him with the movement of his hand.
Rex followed Garrett to the back of the inn, where there was a small courtyard with a table set up for cleaning fish. He could smell it right away, that sharp fish and guts smell that made his nose wrinkle.
Garrett put the fish on the table and got a knife. "Pay close attention to it."
"I'm only going to show you once."