Riley's gaze moved between the manager and the young lady beside her. The two were already mid-argument, voices low but sharp, as if this wasn't their first clash.
Good.
If they stayed distracted, maybe she could slip out unnoticed–
"And you."
Riley stiffened slightly as the manager's attention snapped to her.
"First day, and already causing problems?" he said. "Not a great start."
Riley inhaled slowly.
Stay calm.
"I wasn't causing problems," she said, keeping her voice even. "I just wasn't given any instructions. I didn't want to make a mistake."
"Is that supposed to be an excuse?" he shot back.
Before Riley could respond—
"She's with me," the lady cut in. "So whatever the issue is, you can address it properly."
Riley glanced at her, slightly surprised, then looked back at the manager.
"Thank you," she said quietly to the lady, "but I can speak for myself."
There was a brief pause, before Riley calmly addressed the manager.
"I showed up ready to work. No one told me where to go or what to do. If that's how things are run here, then maybe that's the issue."
The manager's expression hardened.
"Careful," he said. "You're in no position to question how things are run."
Riley held his gaze.
"I'm in a position where I don't want to be blamed for something I wasn't guided on."
That landed.
For a second, the room went still.
The lady beside her let out a soft, impressed huff—but said nothing.
The manager exhaled through his nose.
"I'll be watching both of you," he said, his tone quieter now, more controlled. "Closely."
His eyes shifted to the lady.
"And you—your mother will hear about this, Skylar."
Skylar rolled her eyes.
"Like she doesn't already know how you run things."
The manager ignored that.
"Get back to work. Both of you. And try not to make this harder than it needs to be."
Riley didn't wait for a second dismissal. She turned and walked out.
Skylar followed.
"Hey," the lady tapped Riley as she was about to walk away. "It was nice to see someone stand up to the manager for once. I guess I was wrong about you. I'm Skylar, by the way. Skylar Rowan. And I can assure you that knowing me is one of the biggest advantages you have here."
"You brag a lot. I'm Riley Knox. I wouldn't say it was nice to meet you."
"I don't really nail first impressions," Skylar said, half-smiling. It made Riley wonder how pretty she'd look if she smiled fully. "Allow me to show you how the job is done."
Riley hesitated, just for a moment. And then followed.
"Be my guest."
---
It was closing time for Nathaniel and his assistant. They closed two hours later than the other staff.
"I had a lovely day working with you, boss. Can't wait for tomorrow," his assistant waved as he was about to enter his car.
Nathaniel gave him a look that silently asked, Are you okay?, then entered his own car.
This one had been hired two months ago and always found one ridiculous thing or another to say when they were about to go home. At least he did his job well. That's how they all started. Acting like they loved the job, until it stressed them down to their bone marrow. Then their real character and intentions would come out.
It was after these thoughts that Nathaniel noticed the car hadn't started moving.
He forgot he needed to give the order to his driver.
"Drive," he said.
One word, and the man in front started the car.
They hadn't gone halfway when Nathaniel received a text.
Meet me at the bar beside The Verdant Plate.
That was Darryl's favourite spot. Unfortunately, it wasn't his.
"Turn around. Drive to De Cisasco Bar."
---
Although Riley was a bit sweaty by closing time, she was happy. Her co-workers were very nice and helped her in every way they could. This was something she had never experienced back in the police force. It felt good to be accepted for once.
Even the manager didn't hold a grudge over her outburst that morning. He let them carry the leftovers home.
"Good night, everyone. See you tomorrow," Riley waved as she made her way out of the restaurant.
"Riley, wait."
Skylar pulled Riley along before she could protest.
"The bar is this way."
"I'm going home," Riley said, trying to slow her pace. "And what bar?"
Skylar didn't stop.
"You've got a lot to learn."
They turned the corner, and the noise hit before the building even came into view—laughter, music, the low hum of conversation layered over clinking glasses.
Skylar stopped in front of a sleek building lit in warm gold.
"This is De Cisasco."
Riley looked up at it, taking in the steady stream of well-dressed people walking in.
"And your mother owns this too?" she asked.
Skylar snorted. "Please. No."
"Then why are we here?"
Skylar turned to her, a glint in her eyes.
"Because this is where we make extra money."
Riley frowned. "How?"
"Watch."
She nodded toward the entrance.
Inside, the atmosphere shifted instantly—dim lighting, soft music, expensive perfume hanging in the air. Waiters moved quickly between tables, trays balanced with practiced ease.
But there were too many people.
Too many for the staff already present.
"No one keeps track properly at night," Skylar said under her breath as they slipped inside. "Too busy. Too loud. Too many important people who don't like waiting."
Riley's eyes narrowed slightly.
"And we just… blend in?"
"Exactly."
Skylar grabbed two spare trays from a nearby counter and handed one to Riley.
"Smile, and while you're at it, walk like you belong. No one questions confidence."
Riley hesitated for half a second… then took the tray.
They moved.
At first, Riley just observed—how the actual staff moved, how they spoke, how they placed drinks.
Then Skylar nudged her.
"Go on."
Riley approached a table, steadying her voice.
"Can I get you anything?"
The men barely looked at her.
"Two whiskeys."
She nodded, turned, and delivered the order.
When she returned and placed the drinks down, one of them dropped cash onto the tray without a word.
Riley blinked.
That was… easy.
She stepped away, glancing at the money.
Skylar leaned in beside her.
"Told you."
Riley exhaled softly. "This feels wrong."
"It's not wrong," Skylar said. "It's… flexible."
"That's not reassuring."
Skylar smirked.
"Okay, fine. Here are the rules."
Riley sighed. "Of course there are rules."
"Relax, they're simple," Skylar said, counting on her fingers.
"Don't refuse a drink if a customer offers. Some of them don't take rejection well."
Riley frowned slightly.
"If they try anything, make noise," Skylar added quickly. "Loud noise."
"Second—don't argue over tips. Take what you get and move on."
"Third—don't stare. People here remember faces."
That one stuck.
Riley glanced around the room again, more carefully this time.
Different types of people.
Politicians. Businessmen. People who looked like they didn't want to be recognised.
She swallowed, "…Right."
Skylar nudged her again. "You'll be fine. Just don't overthink it.
---
Time passed faster than Riley expected.
So many orders, movement, noise. It wasn't like the police office. No tension hanging over her. No eyes judging her every move. Here, no one cared who she was, just what she could do.
And that alone satisfied her.
"Riley."
She turned.
Skylar was watching her with a small smile.
"You're doing good."
Riley blinked. "Really?"
"Yeah. You don't look lost anymore."
Riley glanced around again.
Maybe she didn't.
---
Nathaniel met Darryl in a half-drunk state.
"It took me five minutes to get here and you're already drunk," Nathaniel mocked as he sat beside him.
The men seated with Darryl stood up immediately when they saw Nathaniel approach. He recognised one of them. A man who had once tried to harass a waitress here. Nathaniel remembered punching him until his face swelled.
So-called men who couldn't control themselves in public.
"I'm not drunk," Darryl slurred.
"Should I call a waiter?" he asked.
"I'm not hungry," Nathaniel replied. After a brief silence, he continued, "Why did you call me here?"
"I know you're bothered about a lot of things. I brought you here to help you relax. Your home isn't a good place for that."
Darryl called a waitress. Nathaniel already saw through his plan. All he had to do was get Darryl drunk enough to talk.
After Darryl placed the order, the waitress walked away. Nathaniel kept his eyes on her. Not out of interest. Habit. He didn't trust anything he hadn't watched being handled.
"Have you contacted your grandfather?" Darryl asked, drawing his attention from the waitress.
"I visited him a week ago. Contacting him so soon would be suspicious."
The waitress returned with their drinks.
She placed Darryl's drink first, then his. There was a slight pause, not noticeable. But of course, he noticed. He reached for the glass himself, taking it from her before she could set it down.
"Thank you."
Her fingers brushed his for the briefest second.
She didn't react. No flinch. No awkward apology. Just a small nod before turning away. And Nathaniel's eyes briefly followed her, more out of curiosity than interest. Nathaniel took a slow sip of his drink, while Darryl drank in gulps.
Nathaniel smiled faintly and waited.
"My fiancée thinks you're gay," Darryl blurted. "She doesn't want you around me anymore. Thinks you'll convert me."
Nathaniel didn't even blink "Hm."
"She also doesn't want me going to bars alone. That's why I brought you."
And just like that, the truth came out.
"Nathaniel, you're not gay. I tried telling her. She hates gays. Dude, get a fake girlfriend. Stop being introverted. Even the media thinks you're gay."
"Really?" Nathaniel didn't care. He wanted to leave, but he couldn't abandon his drunk friend.
"Think of Melanie."
Nathaniel paused his drinking.
"She needs a mother."
"Don't involve Melanie in this," He snapped, "How's the maid hunt going?"
"No one's applied. Your daughter is crazy."
"She really took after her father," Darryl muttered.
"That's it. Get up. We're leaving."
"But I wanted to play poker—"
Nathaniel dragged a whining Darryl to the car, shoved him in, and buckled his seatbelt.
"I'll drive you back."
"Sir," A waitress, the same waitress, rushed over with a card machine.
He had forgotten to pay. Nathaniel handed her his card without looking. She processed it… but didn't move. A second passed. Then another.
Nathaniel looked up when she hadn't still handed his card to him.
She was staring. And immediately he looked up, blinked rapidly, like a child who was caught in an act and didn't know what to do. "My–" He started, but she quickly interrupted. "Ah, yes. Your card. Here," And with that, she left to attend to others.
This waitress was becoming more unpredictable by the second.
As if that episode wasn't strange enough, he spotted her again at a red traffic light.
The mistake he made was staring.
Maybe she felt his gaze, because she turned and locked eyes with him. Maybe it was accidental, but she didn't look away. There was no hesitation in her gaze.
No curiosity. No recognition. Just calm. Like he was… ordinary. And for someone who was used to being worshipped on sight, that annoyed him.
She held the look for a few seconds. Slowly smiled, then waved. And just before she turned away– blew him a kiss.
Silence.
Nathaniel stared at the road before him like it was an illusion.
The light turned green.
Cars behind him honked.
Still he didn't move.
For the first time in a long time, something didn't make sense.
And he didn't like that.