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Free Short Fiction

Distributed at www.lissakasey.com by Lissa Kasey

This is a work of fiction. Characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's

imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living

or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

Resolute © 2011 Lissa Kasey.

All rights reserved worldwide. This eBook may be distributed freely in its entirety

courtesy of the author, Lissa Kasey. This work may not be sold, manipulated, or reproduced in

any format without express written permission from the author.

This work contains graphic language and sexual content between two men.

Intended for adult audiences only. Not intended for anyone under the age of 18.

Cover Design © 2011 L.C. Chase

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RESOLUTE

by Lissa Kasey

I straightened out the campus bookstore's dictionary display for the third time. Who

bought those things anyway? The internet offered plenty of options to look up spelling. Though,

having read some of my peer's papers, maybe they did need a real dictionary and a grammar

guide. Reorganizing books that rarely moved didn't make me feel like I was having some great

learning experience. Why, I wondered, was it called work-study, when I never really got time to

study while working.

The sound of something clattering to the thinly carpeted concrete floor brought me out of

my stupor. Snickers and shuffling feet rushed away from the noise as I approached. I rounded the

corner and found a display of SparkCharts strewn everywhere. A couple of hyenas masquerading

as college guys darted out the door of the bookstore almost knocking over a few other displays

and another student. They smacked each other on the back and ran up the stairs to the main floor

of the campus, hooting and laughing. Real mature.

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The same dark-haired threesome came in as many as three times a night to harass me.

Nobody ever did anything to intervene. Non-witch girls just stared like I was some sort of animal

in a zoo; and witch girls, they were the worst. One had even put gum in my hair while I was

filling a display. The job wore at my nerves more and more every day.

I yanked the tower back into place. Could there be a more annoying job than picking up

after a bunch of useless and inconsiderate students? The counselor who convinced me to take

this shitty job said not only would it be a good way to earn money, but it would also make me

feel part of something, let the other students better relate to me, and maybe save me from a few

more campus pranks. Unlikely, in my opinion, and so far untrue.

The manager, Mrs. Bach, always made it a point not to see the vandals and bullies that

taunted me. "Mr. Rou, you're supposed to be cleaning up the mess, not adding to it."

"Sorry, ma'am." I put the display and its contents back into place with practiced ease

having done it a dozen times before. A line formed at the register while I finished. I approached

the counter Mrs. Bach stood at the main register arguing with someone about price, so I opened

the other register.

No one moved from the other line.

Silence fell over the campus bookstore like I'd dropped some kind of 'no sound' spell on

them.

"I can ring you up here," I told the students. Still no one moved. The sound of the display

of dictionaries tumbling filled the silence. The hyenas' laughter filled the air as they raced by

again, pointing and snickering. At least they were getting their exercise running up and down the

stairs. I knew if I called security they would just pretend to listen to me.

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Mrs. Bach stared at me, and I glared at all the students who wouldn't meet my eyes. The

last straw had fallen. This was so over.

"I quit." I ripped off the nametag and threw it on the counter, not caring that I made

twelve bucks an hour to rearrange books, but nothing was worth the constant snubs, endless

teasing, and tiring nights of fake smiles.

Relate to other students, my ass.

The students began to talk amongst themselves again. I passed to the door feeling

everyone's eyes on my back. The crowd began to whisper to each other, like I couldn't hear them

or something. "He should never have come to school here," said one witch.

"What good are boys, especially one like that?" Another replied.

The hyenas' laughter seemed to chase me out of the building.

I pulled my long dark hair out of the ponytail and shook it out, letting it fall to cover the

edges of my face. Head down, I left the campus, swearing not to look back, nor shed the tears

burning my eyes. Damn them all.

The drive to my new rental apartment was short, but gave me too much time to think.

People teased me all the time. Had since the moment I began at the University of Minnesota.

This was beyond normal college pranks. It was discrimination and abuse, but not even the ACLU

would take a case with a male witch involved. I sighed and tried to get my mind off the never-

ending battle for acceptance at school.

After I got to the door, let myself in and kicked off my shoes, the reality hit me pretty

hard. Without a job I had no way to pay next month's rent, car insurance, or even to buy

groceries. There would be no other work-study for me. The campus counselor had been pretty

explicit about that. And who would hire me, the only male to ever be enrolled in magic studies?

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It wasn't like I had a lot of skills. I could cook and exercise, but would anyone hire me for either

of those little talents?

I picked up my phone wondering who I could call. If I called my mom she would help

pay rent or insist I move back home. Being homeless sounded better than the second option.

Who else did I know who had connections? Someone who could help me find a job that wasn't

flipping burgers or catering to the campus assholes. I lay down on the bed and scrolled down my

very short list of friends. Only one made any sense to call.

He picked up on the fourth ring, sounding somewhat impatient. "Hello?" The noise of

talking and clinking glass made me think of his bar. I'd never been there, but he owned the place.

Maybe he needed some help.

"Hey," I said, insecurity tripping up my tongue. "You really busy? I can call later."

"Sei? Hold on a sec." A few seconds passed by and then the noise went away on the other

side of the line. "Hey, how are you? Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I'm good." Mostly, if you didn't count the whole not working thing. "You

wouldn't happen to need help at the bar would you?" I'd never served drinks or food to anyone

outside my apartment, didn't take orders well, and hated being around a lot of people. However,

the bar was on the other side of town, so the U of M pricks were unlikely to find me.

The silence stretched from the other side of the line for so long I had to pull the phone

away from my ear to make sure he hadn't hung up. The screen read "connected."

"Gabe?"

"I'm here. Just a little surprised. I could always use some help. How about you come in

after close and I'll show you around, see if it's something you really want to do." He paused then

said, "Close is at two a.m. Come around two thirty."

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That was really late, and I had eight a.m. classes, but... "I'll be there."

*****

By the time I got in the car and headed for the Bloody Bar and Grill I was a

nervous wreck. Could I keep myself from freaking out if it turned out to be filthy? Could I really

smile and pretend to be happy to be serving beer and junk food to random strangers? I pulled into

the nearly empty lot, wondering what the hell I'd been thinking. Everything I read online about

waiting tables said it was a horrible job. People treated you like crap and paid you even less.

After parking, I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath.

I could do this. I had to.

I headed to the door more than a little humbled. Gravel from the parking lot

crunched under my feet, and the neon red sign that flashed the bar's name had been turned off.

From the outside, the building looked like any other, a big box in shape with dark brown and tan

making up the exterior. It was unremarkable, but I pulled on the big metal door-surprised to find

it opened-and stepped inside.

The smell of smoke hit me right away. Cigarettes sucked. I sneezed twice, trying

to clear my head. Maybe I could convince Gabe to work on ventilation later. The place felt like a

cave, bright fluorescent lights gave it a false glow that only tried to mimic sunlight. All the tables

sat empty, chairs flipped up on them, and the floor had been swept clean. The bar counter top

glistened free of fingerprints or drink spills.

My feet felt stuck to the floor more out of anxiety that I'd mess this up than worry

about some invisible dirt. Gabe obviously kept his bar very clean, though I hadn't seen the

kitchen yet. Finally, I mustered enough courage to call for him. "Gabe?"

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A moment later he popped out of a door that appeared to lead to the kitchen area. "Hey,"

he said.

"Hey," I answered, feeling more than a little unsteady.

He led me to a small office right next to the bar, and pointed to the chair across

from his desk. He sat down in his own and folded his hands together in front of him, eyes

searching my face for something.

"Want to talk about it?"

"I'm okay. I just need a job. I have bills to pay." Besides I'd had my little cry at

home. No need to freak out in front of others. He saw enough of my shitty side.

Gabe shuffled through a few things on the desk. "You know that the pay for

waiting tables isn't great, right?"

"Yes, but opportunity for tips."

"Correct." He paused, again looking at me, his expression blank and patient. "You

love books, I'd have thought the bookstore was perfect for you."

"I don't want to talk about it," I repeated. He knew how people on campus treated

me, and was often subjected to my foul moods afterward. I was not going to get a job out of pity.

"I know I don't have any experience, but I learn fast, and I am willing to do whatever I need.

Wash dishes or take out garbage or whatever."

"Okay," He turned, clicked a few buttons on the keyboard. A few seconds later

several pages came out of the printer behind him. He grabbed them and put them in front of me,

then handed me a pen. "We'll give it a few days. Let me know if it's working for you. If not,

maybe I can refer you to something else."

I nodded, feeling tired and more than a little humble.

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"Pay nine dollars an hour. You'll make most of your money from tips. Work your

ass off for the customers and they will reward you." He handed me the W-2 form to fill out,

which I signed and handed back. He gave me several sheets of paper that offered options for

insurance. "Unlike most small businesses and bars I do offer full benefits. Medical, dental, life

and paid time off. Happy employees make for happy customers. So tell me if something or

someone is bothering you."

He paused, looking me over in a way he never had before. Right now I wasn't the

guy he liked to fuck on occasion. This was strictly business, and I'd gone from lover to

employee. I hoped that didn't mean we couldn't still get together once in a while.

"I treat my employees well, but you'll get no special favors. If you need to call

out, I expect you to phone your co-workers to find help. Every time someone no-shows, we all

have to work harder. You'll discover that soon enough. I don't tolerate fights or overly rowdy

folks. Bloody Bar has a reputation of being safe and clean. Anyone in violation of that will be

removed from the premises, understood?"

I nodded, tongue-tied.

"Good. You can start tomorrow at noon. You'll be shadowing Jo. You may know

her from school, since she's a witch."

I cringed. That was exactly what I didn't want.

Gabe didn't seem to notice. "I know your schedule for school, so let me know if it

changes or you need more study time. I'm pretty flexible. Weekends are the busiest time, but I do

try to give you every other weekend off to rest. That's it for tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

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With a quick nod, I picked up the insurance information and headed back to my

car, more than a little shell-shocked. There was nothing sweet and polite about this job. At least I

only had two classes tomorrow. A few hours of sleep were better than none.

*****

Jo, a slip of a girl with light brown hair, proved to be friendly enough. She greeted

me at the door right at noon, showed me how to clock in, and found me a waist-apron to store my

notepad and pen for taking customer orders. The bar was open but really quiet, with less than a

handful of customers. The man behind the bar, I didn't know, but he looked normal enough and

didn't stare at me.

"Have you ever waited tables?" Jo asked, pulling her hair up into a tight pony. We

stood in the locker room, just the two of us. I shook my head. She snapped a spare rubber band

off her wrist and handed it to me. "Hair up. God forbid you get a hair in someone's drink. You'll

never hear the end of it."

I yanked my dark hair into place. When her stare seemed to intensify I fidgeted.

"What?" I asked. The first day jitters were bad enough without a co-worker going weird

on me.

"Flirt with me."

I blinked, trying to find a hidden meaning in her words. "Huh?"

"You're a pretty guy, small and not intimidating. Flirt. Pretend you want to do

me."

"I'm gay!" I protested.

"No kidding. You're kind of flamboyant. Use it. You'll make better tips if you flirt

with everyone. Make them think you're interested in them, that you think they're attractive.

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That's how you make money here." She stepped close enough that our thighs touched, hips

bumping each other. Her shoulders straightened and her boobs lifted higher, almost screaming

"look at me." It took even me a moment to glance up. Her long-lashed eyes glistened with some

sort of sparkling eyeshadow, and she licked her lips to moisten them. The body language was

almost an instant "Kiss me, do me" dance.

Finally she stepped back. "Now you try it."

I blinked, took a deep breath, then lowered my lashes halfway and licked my lips

while looking at her up. While I didn't have the boobs to scream look at me, I wasn't in bad

shape, so I straightened my hips and jutted them back a little, to give my ass a nudge of attention.

Tight jeans would be a must from this day forward.

She laughed. "You're a natural. Let me show you how to do some minor

adjustments to accentuate the positive." She tapped my hip and pointed for me to cross one leg

over the other. This combined with wide eyes was a sweet innocent look that did well for the

older crowd. Sitting astride a chair with lashes down worked well with the younger patrons, and

adding a sway to my hips would keep them all watching when I walked away.

But Jo wasn't finished with her advice yet. "A week night at the Bloody Bar you can

expect about fifty bucks in tips, maybe up to a seventy. Weekends, if you're good, two or three

hundred a night. Closing shift makes more than starting shift. Get people to buy food because

they drink more when they eat. Keep asking if they want drinks until they say stop or need to be

cut off. Menu is simple burgers and fries, so memorize it fast. You can follow me for the first

hour then try a few tables of your own. Ready?"

I nodded, as ready as I was going to be. Jo put some light eye liner on me that

made my lashes look bigger, and we swept out onto the floor like a force to be reckoned with. It

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took two hours, as the bar's traffic picked up, for me to make sense of all Jo's moves. From the

sway of her hips, to the flip of her hair, or the friendly banter at a new table, she drew everyone

in like a storyteller speaking with her body. I followed her example, shrugged off a few

misguided hands, and had already racked up thirty dollars in tips by the time Gabe showed for

the evening.

He smiled lightly at me and went to his office, mail clutched in his hand. After a

while the bartender, who's name was Mike, knocked on his door, and Gabe came out to take over

when the guy left.

I flirted with men and women alike, sometimes sitting in the booth with them, or

in a chair beside their table. Ladies gushed and some guys bristled, but everyone took it in good

stride. They laughed at my teasing jokes and took my suggestions for drinks and food, though the

menu was so simple it lacked any real interest. I'd have to see if I could convince Gabe to change

that.

Gabe took his first break shortly after ten p.m., sitting down in one of my booths.

I retrieved a warmed QuickLife, his favorite synthetic blood, from Jo. She was overseeing the

bar while Gabe took a break. I set the drink down in front of him and he smiled in a non-boss

sort of way.

"You're doing well."

"Thanks. Want anything else?"

"No, this is good, thanks."

I grinned and leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Not as good as I can be, but

maybe I can refresh your memory later."

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His eyes raked over me from head to toe, taking in the tight jeans and solid green

t-shirt, then up to my face. "I like the glitter. It works for you."

"Thanks." I eased up close enough to rub my thigh against his arm where he sat.

"I'm working on sparkling," I told him and walked away.

He laughed so loud and hard, most of the bar turned to look at him, but I didn't

look back. We were okay. That was all that mattered. By the time midnight came and I was on

my way home, I had over a hundred dollars in my pocket. Exhaustion hit me the second I opened

the door to my place, but I jumped in the shower then swallowed a big glass of milk before

falling into a dead sleep.

*****

I found my rhythm fairly quickly. The money came easily. I even had extra cash

to save. The customers loved being flirted with and it made me feel powerful to see them react to

me in that way. Both men and women asked for more intimate time with me, though none of

them got it. Gabe and I had our nightly encounters, flirting more openly because the regulars

seemed to like the added drama.

The first three weeks breezed by. I took home the menu, intent on reworking

some of the food to make it more of a draw. Tonight I had mapped out a whole new display of

eats sure to bring people back, and since I was on the early shift, I was going to have Rick and

Jose make a few as a nightly special.

When I walked in and the guy behind the bar wasn't Gabe but some big blond I

didn't know, disappointment ran through me. Maybe Gabe would be in later. Either way I had to

keep on my game face. It was a Friday, a couple big games were on, including the one at the

Metradome, so the dining hall would likely be packed.

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I passed the bar and entered the kitchen with my printed sample menus in hand. Rick,

Jose, and I had discussed the menu at length, picked out the new dishes and I'd helped them

practiced over the last weekend to get them right. Tonight we'd slip the insert into the regular

menu and see what the interest was. I would rather have asked Gabe first, but since he wasn't

here yet, we would just try it an hour or two before going back to the old one.

Rick and Jose waved me out of the kitchen, assuring me that they were ready. I went to

my locker, retrieved my apron and pen, and began greeting my guests and handing out the new

menus. On the fifteenth trip back to the bar to get a pitcher, the Tender stopped me.

"Hey, you're Seiran, right?" He held out a big paw and batted blond hair out of his eyes

with the other. "I'm Jamie Browan. Gabe just hired me to help with the bar."

"Nice to meet you, Jamie." I shook his hand. He was a big guy, with lots of muscles

making bulges in his clothes. I tried not to stare too much because the customers liked to feel like

they had a chance. He was attractive, but not my type. "Welcome to Bloody Bar. Let me know if

there are any complaints about the food tonight."

He blinked at me, but nodded as I walked away. So far we'd had a good amount of

regulars order from the new menu. The spicy chicken tacos with beans and rice were the top

choice, second only to a new jalapeño burger I'd created from a mix of ground turkey, beef, and

pork with onions and peppers in the patty.

When Gabe appeared after dark, the bar had every table full and several waiting. He

immediately went to the back storage area and hauled out a half dozen more tables to seat

everyone, and began taking orders himself. I didn't have a chance to warn him about the test

menu since my tables kept me hopping-but I did work a double just to help with all the people

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that stayed to try other foods and keep drinking. Many called their friends to meet them at the bar

for dinner.

We sold out of the burgers and tacos, but by then it was near closing and we were all

tired. Jo helped me sweep and flip the chairs, while Jamie made the counters gleam and

organized the bottles. A cleaning lady would come in and do a thorough job of the bathrooms in

the morning, which was one less thing for me to do. But as check-out time came near, my nerves

raced in a frenzy of worry. How was Gabe gong to react to my changes?

Gabe let us out, but he didn't appear to be leaving. I paused and touched his arm. He

shook me off and held the door open. My breath caught. Maybe I'd really screwed up. Maybe he

liked that crappy old menu. Maybe I underestimated costs. Either way, as I turned and made my

way to my car and then home, I kept thinking that maybe I should start job searching again. I

really shouldn't have taken the job at Gabe's. Fucking up a friendship really sucked, especially if

it was over something as stupid as work.

*****

I slept only because exhaustion could not be denied, got up early, went for a run,

and then finished a paper on witch morality. The lying to make the paper sound good gave me a

headache. Everyone knew that witch morality was an oxymoron. My Metaphysics Theory 101

professor asked us to write about what we learned from the book. So I did my best to produce

regurgitated crap that sparkled like jewels.

When four finally rolled around and I made my way to the bar, my stomach knotted with

dread. Was Gabe going to be pissed about me changing up the menu last night?

No sooner did I walk through the door than Gabe called me into his office. I entered

fearing it would likely be my last.

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"Sit," he commanded.

"Okay." I practically fell into the chair, and kept my eyes focused on the floor.

"Should you be here so early?" Maybe he had a fancy car with heavy tinted windows to drive

him around during the day, but that would still make a fiery trip from the car to the door.

"I never left last night. Spent a lot of time going over the books."

"Oh." Shit.

"You didn't get permission from me to change the menu." His face remained

neutral, but my heart pounded.

"I'm sorry."

He sighed and folded his hands in front of him again. "Do you want me to treat

you like an employee or a lover? I need to know how to react here, Sei."

"I don't want to be fired. I just wanted to bring in more business. Show that I could do a

good job. Maybe I went too far." Shifting in my seat didn't help, his gaze felt terribly

condemning. I wanted this confrontation to be over.

"I had to call eight different suppliers to find the ingredients needed to fulfill demand

then pay extra to rush them over."

So it was going to cost him more. I closed my eyes and tried to keep myself from

getting all weepy when he fired me. "I'm so sorry."

"It's a good thing I found a supplier co-op so eager to get into the Twin Cities they

offered me a deal. People came in this afternoon requesting the tacos and the burgers."

I opened my eyes and blinked at him, wondering if I understood him correctly.

"So you're not mad?"

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He kept going without answering my question. "My sales for last night were

almost triple what most Friday nights bring. I've had more than two dozen calls asking if we will

have other new things on the menu tonight." He stared at me for a few moments. "Will we?"

"Rick and Jose have worked on three other recipes I gave them, plus a dessert." I

felt a little light-headed, so I wasn't going to lose my job? "I can come up with more if you

need."

"Give me the other three recipes and the dessert. Do you have another insert we

can use until we can redesign the whole menu?" He looked over the insert I'd added to the menu

last night, reading ingredients and seeming to contemplate the layout of it.

"No. I wanted to ask first. See how people reacted to the change."

"That's fine. Tell me what you have planned." I gave him the newest items, including

pasta, fish, soup, and the dessert. He wrote it all down in his elegant scrawl before glancing up at

me and saying, "We're done. Get to work."

I leaped from the chair and rushed to the locker room to get ready to wait tables.

Jo came in and gave me a kiss on the cheek as I tied my apron on. "Good job! Full customers

give better tips."

I laughed and made my way out to the rush, fluttering my glittered eyes at people

and flirting like each customer was the only one who could satisfy my hunger for attention. Gabe

even found a moment to relax and have a bottle of QuickLife, giving me time to flirt quietly and

more intimately with him. He disappeared to his office once Jamie arrived to take over the bar.

Half past midnight, Jo whizzed by muttering only, "They requested you."

The first annoying stitch of laughter that broke through the already loud crowd

made my shoulders droop. I turned slowly toward the booth, feeling like I'd been stuck in a

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horror movie. Yet there they were, the three hyenas, sitting in my section, snickering and

pointing.

"Everything okay?" Jamie asked from behind the bar.

All I could think of was that stupid bookstore and how many nights of my life I'd

lost to them. Gabe often reminded me that if I needed help all I had to do was ask for it, but I

squared my shoulders and readied myself for battle. This was my home now, my place. The

regulars knew me and treated me well. They liked my food. Gabe respected me as an employee

instead of just a good fuck. Life was good, and those campus assholes weren't going to push me

around on my own turf.

"I'm good." I stomped to their table and turned on the charm. "What can I get for

you?"

They all snickered, sounding no different than a class full of kindergarteners.

"Real upscale place you work at now, Rou. Step up from the bookstore."

I flipped a spare chair around from a nearby table and sat down at the edge of

their booth. Smile up to two hundred watts, I leaned against the back of the chair, letting one

booted foot run slowly up and down the ringleader's calf. "I recommend the tacos, unless you

like it really hot." I flipped my hair over my shoulder and got really into the guy's face. Mark, I

think his name was. "You like it a little spicy, don't you, Mark? Then the jalapeno burger is for

you."

The ringleader opened the menu and pretended to browse it, even flipping over

the blue insert. Finally he said, "Is there anything edible on this menu, See-Ran? Because it all

looks like shit to me." The mispronunciation of my name made me want to smack him.

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I pulled a small lollipop out of my pocket, stuffed the wrapper away and licked

the red bulb sweetly. Mark gulped. Through the heavy fringe of my lashes I could tell he was

back to studying the menu. "You boys look thirsty. Let me grab you some drinks." I got up spun

the chair back into place and gave my hips an extra swing as I made my way to the bar.

"You don't have to take that shit from them," Jo said as she came up behind me.

"Sorry, sweetie. I should have just made them sit in my section."

"It's okay. Can I just get a pitcher of beer?"

Jamie's worried expression seemed out of place, but maybe Gabe had hired him to

bounce some of the louder patrons that showed up after midnight. He nodded and went to work

filling. I bounced back to the kitchen and loaded up chips with a new salsa Rick had come up

with, before heading back out, swiping the brew and three cups from Jamie then headed back to

the table.

I set the bowl down and filled their first drink of the night. Then another turn of the chair

and I slid back into the seat next to them. This time I sat the right way in the chair, spread knees

touching each of the two guys on the end. "So any decisions yet? Spice?" I stroked Mark's arm.

"Or nice?"

"Ah, burgers would be great," Mark answered for the group.

After swiping the menus from them, I smiled and rose, leaning over to breath sweetly

into Mark's ear, "Three spicy jalapeno burgers then, be right back with that."

I made my way back to the kitchen, hands shaking against my will. No time for that,

there was work to be done. After a moment I looked at Rick who was staring at me with worry

written on his dark and wrinkled face. "Give table 18 the burger we were working on with the

Gouda, and the spicy sweet potato fries."

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"On it." He pulled together the burgers and gave them even more flavor than the

usual ones. I followed up on all my tables. Kept flirting with Mark and filling their pitcher of

beer. The guys laughed endlessly, only growing silent each time I approached the table and

starting again when I left.

A young newly engaged couple who sat near the hyenas glared in their direction. The

guys were louder than the average bar goer, which was saying a lot. I apologized to happy couple

and brought them a free dessert, which was tasty caramel cream custard with fresh berries and a

drizzle of chocolate.

When the bell rung that my order was up, I raced back, grabbed the three plates

and handed them out at the hyenas' table. "Enjoy a bit of food kink, boys. This burger is sure to

tingle your balls and make your kisser look passion-bruised."

Instead of waiting for a reaction I did my rounds again, refilling glasses, clearing

tables and adding up my tips. The guys got so rowdy Jamie actually stepped from behind the bar

and walked over to them to hand them the bill. They did quiet down for a while. I kept flipping

smiles in Mark's direction. Pulled out more lollipops to taunt him only to throw them away in the

kitchen each time I entered to get a dish.

When they finally left I totally expected them to ditch out on the bill, which

would put them as a no entry next time. However, when I went to clean their table and opened

the black folder, I found a fifty-dollar bill tucked inside. Their order had only been twenty-eight

dollars and some change.

A gentle touch at the base of my spine brought me out of my confused musing. Gabe

looked from me to the money and back. "Pretty nice tip. They must have liked the service or

something."

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I gave them every ounce of play that Jo had taught me, and the food had been top rate.

Rick pulled out all the stops like we would have for an exclusive guest. Gabe took the ticket

from me and flipped it over.

"Looks like they wrote something."

It read: Good eats, thanks.

I sucked in a deep breath of relief, feeling those stupid tears burn at my eyes again. If I

could impress the hyenas with my food, then maybe I truly had found my place.

*****

Right before close, Jamie came out onto the floor to help clean up, I heard him

remark, "He's a little flirt. Going to get himself in trouble some night."

Gabe shook his head before disappearing into the office. The new moon started

tomorrow, so I wouldn't be working. Gabe wouldn't be off until Monday night. When he let us

out, he kissed me lightly on the cheek and patted my ass. "See you Monday. Check your email

when you get home."

He liked to follow me when I changed, probably worried that, in my lynx form, I

would get hit by a car or something. I knew the dangers out there. I just liked how at ease he

seemed with me as a cat, not to mention he knew right were to rub my head to make me purr.

I drove home in an almost euphoric fog. The customers liked the food, Gabe liked

the sales, and I wasn't fired. At home my computer flashed at me, the messenger reminding me

to open the email that blinked yellow. I stepped out of my clothes, folding them and setting them

aside then opening the email. The message simply said: Let's get this done by next weekend. It

had an attachment. A double-click and the image file opened, revealing a new layout, new look

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and new menu for the Bloody Bar and Grill. Several sections were left blank and just had words

like 'Dessert' or 'Appetizers' for placeholders. I was really a part of something.

###

Read more about Gabe and Sei in Inheritance and Reclamation from DreamSpinner

Press.

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About Lissa Kasey

Lissa Kasey lives in St. Paul, MN, has a Bachelor's Degree in Creative Writing, and

collects Asian Ball Joint Dolls who look like her characters. She has two cats who enjoy waking

her up an hour before her alarm every morning, and sitting on her lap to help her write. She can

often be found at Anime Conventions masquerading as random characters when she's not writing

about boy romance.