Chapter 5

©2009 A. Jane

Meria blinked as Dewi slammed down the mugs of ale onto her tray, sloshing it over the side, soaking the napkins and paper coasters. She started to ask him who yanked on his tail, but he bared his canines and emitted a low growl. She promptly shut her mouth and took the tray to deliver the drinks, careful not to spill the already spilled ale. She could only wonder how Neak would have handled that situation. Would she have taken it, or popped him on the nose with her order pad?

She made a mental note to ask Neak when next she spoke to her.

After delivering the mugs of ale to the table of Mages—threatening the one who patted her ass with pecking out his eyes if he tried it again—she took a deep breath and walked over to Fidgen’s table. Her heart rate picked up and she had to force herself not to blush, order herself to act as if she didn’t care. She shouldn’t care, he thought she was a Wren.

Mistress Moon! He was cute. She loved that little goatee he wore. Her fingers itched to touch the mohawk.

The Elf was tapping a rhythm out on the table and writing something down on a napkin as usual. Even after she dumped that drink on his head, he still talked to her, was nice to her, asking her how her day was going, if she wanted to come to his band’s next gig. She didn’t know what to think of it. Why would he be nice to her, especially after dumping that drink on his head and everyone had laughed?

“What can I get you this evening?” She propped the tray on her hip and prepared to write down the possible order only to recall the tray was covered in ale. Shit.

Fidgen looked up from his writing, annoyed at the interruption, that is, until he saw Meria. He grinned, flashing perfect teeth—They should be perfect, his parents had spent a fortune at the dentist to make them perfect. How many years had he spent with braces on his teeth?

“Miss Chirptrue, what a delight to see you this evening.”

“Is it now?”

“Oh yes indeed. You look awfully pretty tonight.” He liked the way she had her hair all tossed around and spiky.

She looked down at her tray and furiously fought the blush. “Would you like to order?”

Fidgen sighed. “I’m not doing this right, am I?”

“What?” Meria looked back up, blinking, confused.

“Flirting with you, I’m not doing it right.”

“Why would you flirt with me?”

He offered another smile. “Because you’re pretty.”

“I poured a drink on your head.” This was the oddest conversation. Why couldn’t he just order his drink and let her move on?

“I mistakenly called you a Wren when you’re obviously a Sparrow. I should have seen it. You’re much cuter than a Wren.”

“And so you flirt with me to make amends?”

“I flirt with you because you’re pretty and I keep hoping that you’ll flirt back.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“What’s to understand?” His brow furrowed ever so slightly. “I want to get to know you, that’s what flirting is for.”

“All you have to do is ask me questions.” Her face finally turned red seeing the strange look he wore. She obviously wasn’t adept at this social stuff. “Do you want to order a drink?”

The Elf sighed again, defeated. She obviously wasn’t going to flirt back, had no desire to flirt back. He must have completely ruined it when he mistook her for a Wren. That would explain why she dumped the drink on his head and why she called him a Brownie when he looked nothing like one. Usually a woman only dumped a drink on a guy when they were through.

He grumbled, “I’ll have the usual.”

Meria nodded and started to turn away, but then stopped, looked over at Fidgen. She took a deep breath then spoke in a rush, “I don’t know how to flirt and I’ve never been to a rock concert and no one’s ever said I was pretty, at least not any cute boys—men. And…and I’ll go get you your drink.”

She rushed off before Fidgen could say anything. How embarrassing. He now knew she thought him cute. Maybe she would have Widdle take him his drink, because she wasn’t sure she could face him again. She climbed up onto the step the Tree offered her and placed her tray on the bar. She felt a sense of relief that Oben was there instead of Dewi. She didn’t think she could take his growly mood right then.

“Fidgen’s regular order and I need a clean tray.”

Oben looked at Meria’s flushed cheeks and then at the flooded tray. “Did you trip?”

“No, Dewi’s piss poor mood. Actually, I think I need a fifteen-minute break. Have Widdle take Fidgen his drink.”

“Did he say something to upset you again?” The Lobo was ready to pounce on the Elf for upsetting Miss Chirptrue a second time.

“He said I was pretty, but I don’t know how to flirt and so I couldn’t…” Tears started filling her eyes and she dashed at them horrified. How did she get in so far over her head? She had no business being a barmaid, no business trying to be more than a dowdy schoolteacher.

Oben’s face softened. “You are pretty, and flirting… Flirting is hard work for some of us.”

“I keep trying to be like Neak.”

“But you’re not Neak and there’s nothing wrong with that. Just be yourself, that’s all anyone can do.” He placed a new tray on the bar and then Fidgen’s drink on it. “Wait a minute.” He quickly made and poured a mixed-berry daiquiri, placing it on the tray as well. “Go take those fifteen minutes you wanted, but take them with Fidgen.”

“Oben!”

“That’s an order. I believe he actually likes you. He seems totally unaffected by Neak’s pollen as he’s been staring at you since you poured the drink on his head and only you.”

“Oben… I told you I don’t know how to flirt. Even you said it’s hard work.”

“I did, but I also said be yourself. Now go, the horde can do without service for a few minutes.” When she hesitated, he gave her a stern look. “Don’t pass this opportunity up because you’re afraid.” He kept from grinning when she glowered at him. “Then do you dare prove me wrong?”

Meria took the drinks, leaving the tray, stepped down from the small step and made her way through the crowd over to Fidgen’s table. He was once more writing notes out on a napkin. She placed his drink next to him and then took the seat across from him, her drink in her hand.

“So you think I’m pretty?” she blurted and then promptly bit her tongue, fought embarrassment. How many stupid things could she say in one day?

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