Page 6 of Nemesis

Just get through tonight, I tell myself. That’s all I need to do.

2ARTEMIS

I started workingfor Antonio when I was seventeen. It was at Antonio’s first restaurant, actually. We were both out of sorts, kind of floundering with what to do with our lives. He fell into the restaurant business, and he said he couldn’t take my moping. So he put me to work. First as a busser, then a bartender when I turned eighteen.

I didn’t speak to a single person other than him. Eventually, I started talking to my co-workers. But not to any real extent. The lead bartender talked to therealcustomers, while I made the drinks that came in on the tickets for the tables.

There was a learning curve, obviously. But once I figured out that everything has an exact amount, it became more about science and less about alcohol.

A year later, Antonio put me in front ofpeople. At that time, they were scary. The prospect of them anyway. But he must’ve said something to the other bartender, because he worked alongside me, letting me interact with customers at a crawling pace.

Making drinks? Fine.

Conversation? I’d rather not.

After what I went through, everyone was seen as dangerous. It took a long time to unwind that fear and learn that not all of them were evil.

And from there, other people seemed pretty easy.

Now, I’m grateful for the loud, thumping music. People crowd around the bar, but they’re not looking to chat withme. They’re barely able to talk to the person beside themselves without tonguing each others’ ears.

Just the way I like it.

“Artemis,” Antonio calls from the side.

I make my way to him, although it’s a little slow. I drop off drinks along the way and collect the cash they slide me, until finally I reach the older man.

Cassandra is just behind him.

“VIP bar needs an extra set of hands… and some guidance.” He quirks his lips. “Mel is drinking with the guests.”

I groan. “Cassie’s replacing me here?”

“Yep.”

I nod and gesture for her to get back here. I lean in and tell her, “Tom just went to restock garnishes, so you’re only on your own for a few more minutes.”

Antonio and I watch her settle in for a moment, but there’s really no need. Cassandra’s been around almost as long as Bow & Arrow. The only reason she’s not a manager is because she’s refused the promotion twice.

“You good?” he asks me.

I jerk my head up.

Bow & Arrow’s aesthetic is moody. While the restaurant portion is light and open, with spectacular views, the club is dark. There are different levels, with caged dancers floating above the dance floors. Mirrors, dark marble, lights. It’s all an illusion to keep my idea of luxury and mystery alive.

The fight club, Olympus, does the same thing in a different way.

It’s part of the draw. People realize they’ll never uncover what’s hiding in all the shadows at this place, but it doesn’t stop them from trying.

I get to the upstairs VIP section, nodding to another of our security on my way by. It’s almost midnight. And as soon as I step in, I spot Mel taking a shot at one of the booths.

Fuck my life.

I head straight to the bar. It’s quieter up here, with less demand. Or should I say, less crowd and twice the demand. The rich always expect more—and it’s one area I avoid as much as possible.

“Artemis! I’m so sorry.” Mel leans on the bar. “I?—”

“Are you drunk?”

---