Run

Chapter 5

He grunted, a noncommital sound. He picked up another glass, beginning the ritual of polishing anew. "Long hours. Rough crowd. Not for the faint of heart."

"I'm not faint of heart," Elara said, the words a quiet declaration. It was true, in a way she hadn't understood until recently. Julian had tried to break her, but he had only forged her. She prayed he wouldn't see right through her. She needed a job fast, and bartending was something you could make tips with. Something she could really use right now. He paused again, his gaze lingering on her. "Name?"

"Eleanor Vance," she said, the new name feeling foreign and alien on her tongue. "Eleanor Vance." He nodded, a minuscule movement. "Mav. I own the place." He gestured with his chin towards the back of the bar, where a door stood slightly ajar. "Kitchen's through there. Need to see about stocking. And Eleanor Vance, you're gonna learn how to work this room. Or you ain't gonna last the night." He let the last word hang in the air, a quiet warning and a subtle, almost imperceptible offer. The unspoken implication was that he might be willing to give her a chance. He has seen enough in his time to recognize a woman running from something, and for reasons he couldn't articulate, something about this one piqued his interest. It was the ghost of vulnerability in her eyes, or maybe it was the stubborn set of her jaw. Whatever it was, he'd seen it before in people who needed a second chance, or a hiding place. He didn't make a habit of turning people away, especially not when they looked as desperate as she did. And besides, the current girl was looking a little too comfortable, a little too set in her ways. A fresh face, a new energy, might be just what The Rusty Spoke needed.

He knew all too well the look of someone who had had an easy life; he could read people like an open book. And this girl had lied through her teeth. He knew she had no experience, and while a fresh face would be good around here, if he were being honest, it wasn't the reason why he was giving her a chance. Something about her caught his attention in a way no one else had been able to. At least not since Krissy had high-tailed it out of here on the arm of a rich man who had been passing through.

He kept an eye on her all night. She finished stocking the back, the once full crates he'd hauled in during the early morning hours, now empty and stacked nicely in the corner. She'd done a good job organizing the shelves. At first, he was a little frustrated that she had taken it upon herself to reorganize the backroom, but once she explained her reasoning behind it with so much pride in herself, he couldn't bring himself to say anything to her. He'd sent her to start working the bar after that, as he sat in the corner on a stool and watched her. He was impressed; he'd only had to step in three times to fill a drink order she clearly had never heard of before. But other than that, she'd done fairly well. Granted, most of the drink orders she'd get around this old place would be nothing more than a cheap beer.

The Rusty Spoke was quiet now, the last of the night owls shuffling out into the pre-dawn chill. Mav was already leaning against the bar, his weathered hands once again polishing glasses, a ritual of sorts he'd come to almost enjoy. It was a calm, mundane task compared to most parts of his days. He didn't hate his life or his position, but sometimes it was nice to just sit and do a simple task such as this. As he polished glasses, he watched as Eleanor wiped down the sticky counter, the rough grain of the wood a stark contrast to the porcelain doll doing the cleaning. She looked exhausted, probably never worked a day in her life, he thought to himself as he put away the last glass.

"Go ahead and leave for the night," he told her gruffly, "Be back tomorrow by lunch."

She gave him a tired smile as she put away the dirty rag in her hand and made her way over to him, "I'll see you tomorrow then," she looked at him hesitantly. As unfriendly as he may look, she knew in her gut he was a nice person at heart. "Thank you for giving me a chance," she reached her hand out to shake his. He was surprised, not expecting her to really say much to him. She'd been quiet most of the night, only speaking when she needed to. He reached his hand out, taking hers in his. Her skin was soft and delicate under his rough and calloused hands. "Don't make me regret it," he told her with a nod before turning and heading to the backroom. He'd finish up the cleaning before locking up. He was used to staying late and tending to the bar; he owned it after all. Sure, he could have hired someone else to do it, or made the bartenders do it, but he took pride in everything he did, and he has no reason to rush home.

Elara, or Eleanor now, slid into the driver's seat of her sedan and let out a deep breath. She was exhausted. Her feet hurt, her hands were dry from all the washing she'd done today, her back ached, but she felt light. She was finally free. At least for now. "What am I going to do?" she talked out loud to herself as she scanned the parking lot. It was late, and she had no idea if this town even had a motel. Even if they did, she wasn't sure she'd have enough money to rent a room for the night. She started her car and drove it to the side of the bar. It seemed impossibly darker over here, and she doubted anyone would see her tucked away in this corner. She'd just sleep in her car until morning and then find a truck stop or somewhere to wash up before coming back to work.

She jumped as someone knocked loudly on the window of her car; she'd only barely fallen asleep, curled up in the backseat with a small blanket tucked around her. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust, but it didn't take her long to realize it was Mav.

"What are you doing?" his voice held a disapproving tone. She could feel the embarrassment begin to rise. What is she supposed to tell him? Could she really tell him that she couldn't afford to rent a room? That if she did manage to rent a room, she'd have no money to eat and no money for gas. "I don't really like driving this late, especially with how tired I am tonight. So I figured I'd just sleep in the car and go find a motel in the morning. I don't know my way around just yet, and I hate to get lost," the lie rolled off her tongue effortlessly.