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“Well then, I’m glad to be of service. I’m giving you something to actually do instead of having to pretend to look busy.”

He glares at me, and I give him a fake smile. “If you keep running your pretty little mouth, neither of us will make it very far.”

“Is that your way of asking if you can fuck me? Pretty presumptuous of you to think we would go there again,” I sass.

“You know you want my cock again, so let’s not pretend you don’t. I just happen to like you running from me.”

“Good to know,” I say as we round the corner into the alley. Vesper is coming from the opposite direction and runs her gaze over us. She does not give away anything, her face void of emotion.

“Good to see you make terrible decisions,” she says, and Clay chuckles, so I elbow him in the gut.

“What?” he wheezes.

“Whatever decisions I make are mine,” I snap. “Good to see you again, Vesper.”

She nods, and I push the bar door open and step inside, leaving them out there.

Ares is behind the bar and looks up as I come in. “Seven fifty-eight, not bad.”

“Bite me. I’m here to help, remember? Where do you need me?”

He runs me through his morning routine, which I appreciate. He says that it won’t be busy, just consistent, as the staff come in to eat before their shifts.

The first staff member walks in, a tall man in a black shirt I recognize from the gate crew. He nods at me and orders a coffee and eggs. Once I get it sorted, he takes it to a table near the window and eats while reading something on his phone. The second person comes in almost immediately after—one of Karo’s circus crew, a woman with chalk still on her hands who looks like she has not slept. She gets a coffee and nothing else.

We fall into a rhythm. People come and go, the orders are small and straightforward, and the kitchen passes food through without drama. Ares moves between tables, chatting with everyone and making sure their food is okay.

I watch him from behind the bar. He knows what most people want before they speak, and I can tell that he has built a place he can control, making everyone feel looked after. I think he needs this as much as they do. He loves to be in control of how people react to him; Ares needs to be needed.

“You’re watching me,” he says as he stands on the other side of the bar.

“Maybe I just find you attractive and can’t take my eyes off you.”

“What can I say? I’m a stud.”

I shake my head and get back to work. By nine, the rush is over, and it seems like almost everyone on the island has ordered food in that time.

Ares pours us both a coffee and tells me to sit for a second.

“How did you end up here?” I ask. He isn’t like everyone else I have met here, at least not at face value.

He is quiet for a moment, and I see him thinking of how to answer without giving too much away. The same way I would if I were asked the same question.

“I am good with people, and I needed somewhere I was valued instead of people finding me uncomfortable.”

“Why would anyone find you uncomfortable?”

“Most people don’t like being understood. They might think they do, but not past what they portray on the outside.”

That is the most honest thing I have gotten from him.

“I guess so. And you also thought up the wristband system and protocols.”

“I helped.”

“Seems like a lot of work for a bar job.”

He glances at me and smirks. “It’s not just a bar job—I also own the bar.”