ONE

He’s here again.

The hot guy from Las Vegas.

I spotted him easily in his booth in the bar. He was always in that shadowed corner, barely a part of the place and yet, always observing. He didn’t look creepy. Far from it! He had this kind of face… too handsome. Deep-set eyes, dark irises, elegant eyebrows, passionate lips. Somber, earnest… piercing look. 

He had been here a few nights already and the first time in, he was with a crowd. 

I didn’t know why he made me feel both nervous and excited – he wasn’t the only handsome, hot guy that ever came in. 

I had worked here for a while. My co-workers did say he was hot and sexy. He was. And unapproachable, really. He charmed with a smile, but no. No more additional drink. “No, I don’t need company,” was what I heard him say to a regular. I’d seen women giving him their numbers, but he always handed it back. Not interested. Food was great according to him, and he’d leave a big tip every time. He was one more customer that made working hours better for us here. Exciting.

I didn’t like being affected this way, by the way. 

But I couldn’t help noticing him. This was the fifth night he was here and alone, didn’t want to be bothered. He had been approached many times. Every time, the approacher left alone.

His name was Bain. 

Bain first came to the bar a week ago with a group of gorgeous-looking guys, obviously from affluent backgrounds with the way they dressed and talked. 

Little snobbish. Smooth. And the air that said nobody had to tell them they were better than cool. Not that I thought they weren’t. They were.

But Bain, with an over-all impression of magnetism and mystery, somehow stood out. He barely talked amid his raunchy companions. His moody eyes surveyed his surroundings, but not as if he was bored. More like he was looking for something. 

Piercing dark eyes… the first time they found me, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. 

He caught me staring, curious about him, wondering why he felt different. It was weird and embarrassing. 

So I avoided looking his way since then. I didn’t want to get caught in the grip of that stare again.

One of my co-workers said they were attending an annual international business convention in the Grand Hyatt. 

I couldn’t see why they chose this bar over all the other excellent bars in and near Times Square. Trying to get a taste of everything, probably. Like other tourists do.

The very next night, Bain was back alone. He must have liked our place. 

Had dinner, and a drink, and then left. 

The next night, he ordered the lobster rolls twice. 

There was always a plate of fries with blue cheese and scallions on his table with his drink. He asked a waitress to give his compliments to the cook for his mean spicy bites which were the main attraction of Sizzling Strip. 

That was how we learned his name, it was because Lucy asked. He was quiet but friendly. 

Most importantly, he’d been leaving generous tips those two nights with a very appreciative air. 

We kind of started to like him. How could we not?! 

He smiled at me when I brought his drinks to his table. I smiled back like he was any other customer and went about my duties, not minding—or pretending not to—whenever I find his eyes following me.

Last night, he asked politely if I could stay. 

We could chat with customers in between booth rounds. Mr. Beef down on the front entrance always had his paternal, glittering green eyes watching out for the girls all the time. 

So I sat at the opposite side of the table. Given he had been a good customer so far, it wasn’t hard to accommodate his request.

Like I could resist.

He’s such a sight for sore eyes, more so up close. I guess that’s why I didn’t even want to think of him. 

Some people were meant for just an arm’s length’s reach because they were that potent, you know. 

And he was that potent.

He’ll leave the city any day, I told myself last night. It’s just going to be for tonight.

But that close, I saw that I didn’t just imagine how penetrating those dark eyes could be. Like they could see right to someone’s soul. I thought it would be easier for me when I was finally near enough I could almost see his pores. 

I was wrong.

He looked more real than a dream house. And he was, in fact, very… very handsome.

“How long have you been working here?” he asked in the same polite but curious tone.

“Eight months,” I replied.

He inclined his head. “You like the work?”

“You doing some paperwork about secret lives of waitresses?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He smiled again. His face went a little red. “No. Just making small talk.”

Do serial killers blush? “It’s okay. I mean, the work is okay. Mr. Langdon was fair and reasonable. My co-workers are all friendly. And we have Mr. Beef there to look over us like Big Brother.”

“Don’t you have anything else aside from this?”

“I study during the day, my nights are for my work here,” I replied as I wondered about his questions.

“What do you study?”

I was then thinking he couldn’t be weirder and I couldn’t be more uncomfortable. 

He backed away. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell.”

I heard a whistle and it’s the signal to get back to work. “I have to go do my job now, Mister…”

“Call me Bain.”

“Bain.” As if I didn’t know.

“Will you talk to me again, Gia?” he asked, in a tone like he wanted me to say yes.

I thought about it then found myself nodding. “Sure. Enjoy your drink.” 

As I went back to work, I wondered why I’d said yes without even thinking really hard about it. And why he’d talked to me longer than anyone I ever saw him talk to. 

The night got busier and I didn’t get to come back to his table. 

But I still got the feeling he was covertly observing me when I wasn’t looking his way. I did see him talking to a woman standing by his table. 

But the next time I looked, he was gone.

I tried not to think about him anymore after that. I didn’t like having to look his way compulsively. I didn’t like not being in control of myself. 

It just felt dumb to me thinking about a guy this way, when I knew there was going to be nothing to it but… nothing.