On the run

Two

"I am not serving them that." I pushed it back to Dean, the chuckle evident in my voice.

"It's fine, I'm not throwing a perfectly good pint away."

"Then pull it right and you wouldn't have to. Do I need to come pull my own?"

"Don't you dare." He laughed, grabbing a clean glass, and getting me another. "You're chipper tonight Pen."

"I had the worst day at the office."

"And that makes you smilier? Weirdo." I rolled my eyes, keeping an eye on his glass. Dean is the dead opposite to James. The best boss. We get on so well. It's practically just us running this place and he knows I only need it to top up my other wage. He was furious when I told him how much I make and had insisted on paying me more than he was offering. It kept me secure. The two jobs together allowed me to put a good amount into savings every month. I ate here most of the time, with Dean. He'd order food and we'd split it. Cutting corners on all of my other bills, showering in cold water, using candles instead of the lights, I was starting to feel comfortable with the money in the bank. It wasn't huge, but it was enough if I needed to get away quickly. I'd needed my last quick escape money and the amount I'd needed to do was so extensive, it burned out quickly and I'd only just managed to get it back.

"I might be getting the sack." He looked up for a second, putting the full glass down. "Dickhead has decided to sell the business. New owner was in today all 6ft8, pure fucking muscle, baby blue eyes and he said he's going to do his best to keep everyone but some tough choices may need to be made in the process and we both know I am the most under qualified person alive for that job."

"You've been doing it what? 3 years Pen. You are not under qualified." I shrugged, pulling the tray from the bar, and turning around, plastering a fake smile onto my face, and walking across to the man in the corner. He was here every single night without fail. Same seat. Same friends, same disgusting hands that he was, undoubtedly going to put all over me. I could see him licking his lips as I approached, my stomach churning in my stomach until I felt like I was going to throw up.

"Here you go." I smiled softly, slipping it in front of him. "Anything else I can get you guys?"

"Your number." I laughed with them like I found it funny and he didn't say the same thing every time.

"Sorry, I don't think my fiancé would like that too much."

"Let me talk to him baby." He winked, eyes moving up and down me as he reached for me and I took a wide step back. "Come on Emily. One drink." He patted his lap and I giggled.

"No can do, I've got work to do and we don't want my manager sacking me do we boys?" The table all groaned with a shake of their head. "Besides, what if your wife walked in and I'm sat on your lap? Hm?" His eyes darkened a little and I shot him a smile before looking up at the rest of the table. "Anything else?" it was a resounded no so I nodded, popping my notepad back into my back pocket. "Brill, I'll come check on you guys in a little while." I moved off before they could say anything else, clearing empty glasses from another table and returning back to the bar.

"He's feeling daring tonight." Dean nodded his head, cleaning down the work top and flinging the towel over his shoulder as I sat down. It was pretty quiet tonight for a Friday but it was usually better this way. He handed me a pile of napkins and I started folding like it was second nature.

"I know. I have a feeling he's gonna pull me down when I next go over." I rolled my eyes at the napkins, sighing.

"I wish that damn office job paid you better so I could finally close this place."

"I've told you to close it Dean. I'll find something else."

"No chance. I close this place; these drunks are just gonna go to the next nearest bar and keep going until they find you. I might be in the money now; doesn't mean I'm going to be putting you out." I pressed my lips together, looking up at him with a tired face. "Tell me more about this 6-foot 8 god then."

"There's not much to tell. Seems like he's going to rule with an iron fist but it doesn't look like him if that makes sense. He looks a little too soft for it so I'm wondering how that's gonna go down. All the girls were in the bathroom after, gushing over how hot he is."

"You weren't?"

"Have you ever heard me gush over how hot someone is?"

"No."

"Right. And I'm not starting now. Plus, he's going to be our boss. Is that not, wrong? On so many levels? That's like me telling Sandra you're hot." His jaw dropped sarcastically.

"You don't already tell her that?"

"Not a chance in hell am I telling anyone you're hot Dean."

"No, keep it to yourself." I threw a napkin at him, making him laugh quickly. "You're still not close to any of them?"

"I'm not close to anyone."

"You're close to me."

"No, I'm not." I shook my head. "I talk to you. You don't have a single clue who I am outside of this bar apart from what I do. You don't even know where I do it."

"I know you're working for a god now so that's gotta pose well." I smiled. "Have you always been this secretive? I know you always say you don't talk about how you ended up here but-"

"I don't talk about it for a reason. It's better if I don't." This topic came up every now and then. Maybe 6 times in the 2 and a half years I've been here. I always gave him the same answer, which wasn't really an answer but it was better that that's as far as it went. Same with the fake name I used with customers. Easy to hide under bleached hair and a fake name. "But no, before I got out here, I wasn't. Everyone knew my business; it was kind of everywhere. In everyone's faces constantly."

"Ah so you were well known?" I rolled my eyes. "What? Nearly 3 years you've been here and I only know your birthday because it's on your paperwork."

"You went looking." I crossed my arms. "That's cheating, you still had like 90 guesses."

"Yeah well, now I know it's next month. So," He stuck his tongue out at me "What do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Penny."

"I don't want anything Dean. Please don't get me anything." There was that sickly feeling again. "I don't tell people for a reason. I don't celebrate my birthday. I don't like celebrating it. Please don't do anything because I will just walk away." He exhaled and I could feel his brown puppy dog eyes staring into my head as I focused on the pile of napkins. "I'm serious."

"I know you are but I have to do something. I have to get you something." I groaned. "At least let me give you the night off or something."

"No, I need the money."

"I'll pay you to take the day off. You've been here this long Pen and you haven't taken a single day off. Not taken any of your vacation, no sick days. Nothing. Take the one day off. Have the weekend off and relax a little." I gave him a short laugh of disbelief. Me? Relax? Never going to happen. "Please?"

"Fine. If you're making me take it off, I'll take the Saturday off."

"And the Sunday. It's your day off anyway." I sighed. "Pen."

"Fine. Fine." I gave up. "I'll take my birthday weekend off. Happy?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Very."