Isekai Hero Bartender

I dragged myself through my shift. It didn't help that we were once again packed. A few guests stood patiently, speaking amongst themselves while waiting for a table to open. This time, I knew it wasn't just our growing popularity, but also the increased activity at the docks. Several ships had come into port early, sensing the coming heatwave, and a couple of them chose the Breakwater Inn as their lodging.

My shoulders and arms were surprisingly sore after the day of training with Lady Talia. Apparently, gentle movement and holding a blade was more than my untrained body could handle without complaint. Every time I shook my cocktail tins or stirred in a mixing glass, I felt shaky, weak, and sore.

By the time I finished helping Wynnie clean the kitchen, I was just about ready for bed.

But only just about. Not quite.

Bartenders gonna bartend.

Wynnie excused herself to wash up before bed. Even though I tried to cajole her into a nightcap, she begged off. Our late nights, plus her early mornings to start the stove and serve guests, were taking their toll.

“An early bedtime would do me good. Don’t wake me unless there’s a fire. Or if you want to handle the coffee and scones in the morning.”

I kissed her goodnight. “I’m just going to mess around with some menu items.”

“Making ice cream?”

I’d almost forgotten about that. “I’ll make a shopping list for it. Maybe we can handle it tomorrow before service.”

Wynnie scoffed. “We? I hope you’re talking about you and Shiva. I have plenty of prep to do. She keeps disappearing in the mornings, gods know where—for what reason. Maybe you can give her something useful to do.”

After another kiss goodnight, I slumped back out to the bar on heavy, tired legs. A quick nightcap before tucking in was exactly what I needed to wind down after such a long and eventful day. Besides, bars thrived when they offered new and exciting cocktails; they were forgotten if they didn’t.

To my surprise, Shivai was still out in the main room. She was slowly mopping the floors, going a step above the simple sweeping she usually did. I gave her an appreciative nod when we locked eyes.

Her tail flicked in excitement upon seeing me. "Are you coming out to check on me? Making sure I don't steal any of the goods?"

I cocked a surprised eyebrow. "No. Actually, I was coming to steal some goods myself. That's one perk of being the bartender. I have a professional obligation to try all the things." I paused, then motioned for her to join me. "Want to take a break from swabbing the decks and try one of the drinks you serve all night?"

Her face lit up, and she dropped the mop immediately. The wood clattered across the floor, loud and sharp. I winced, hoping the noise didn't wake any of our more sensitive guests. She shrugged apologetically before prancing lightly over to me, still light on her feet after a shift that more than got her steps in.

I resumed my usual spot behind the bar and grabbed a few items. There was still a bit of ice left in the bottom of the well, so I didn't have to bother Wynnie to make any more. Leftover bottles of citrus and syrups begged to be used. A few cool touches from Wynnie kept our second cask of cider chilled, and our guests drank more of it than I’d anticipated, leaving us with plenty of cocktail supplies to play with.

Instead of taking a stool, Shivai jumped onto the bar, butt first. She adjusted her position, letting her ass hang off the edge with her tail swishing slowly behind her. She leaned forward bringing her face close enough for me to make out the radiant texture in her magenta eyes. Slowly, she lowered herself until her elbows and forearms fully supported her upper body.

It was an incredibly seductive pose. Her cleavage, which could best be described as overwhelming, hung on full display in the medieval approximation of a halter top. Acres of smooth purple skin revealed a captivating amount of woman.

I swallowed hard and tried to keep my focus on the drinks at hand. Hard to do, considering I could see the faintest outline of a dark vein zigzagging into obscuring shadows. I grabbed a bottle of local rum from the well.

She pointed with her chin at the bottle in my hand. "What's that?"

"The King's," I replied. "Apparently they make it somewhere south of here. Midbeach, I think it's called. It's a serviceable rum, and not that much more expensive than the moonshine we get locally."

"What are you doing with it?"

"Making drinks." I chuckled when she rolled her eyes. "There's this cocktail I really love, and I want to see how it is with rum instead of gin. It's called a Richmond Gimlet."

Her head cocked with curiosity, and she leaned in even further. Barely more than a foot away, I could smell her. Nobody who worked that hard for that many consecutive hours had any business smelling as intoxicating as she did. Hints of vanilla, wood smoke, and cherries mixed together, and I had to stop myself from inhaling deeper just to get more.

She smiled, looking up at me through her eyelashes. She had to know what she was doing—how alluring she was like this.

But why?

"What's in it?"

"In a Richmond Gimlet? Usually, gin. Plus lime, simple syrup, and a whole lot of mint. If you're feeling sassy, you can add a touch of celery bitters."

"I'm always feeling sassy," she replied, winking.

I cleared my throat. "But I don't think celery bitters would go well with rum. Actually, I don't even have celery bitters. All I have are the burnt-sugar and blackstrap bitters that I made."

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

"I plan to fuck around and find out."

Something like a growl rumbled deep in her throat. She looked hungrily between me and the materials I’d stacked on the bar between us. Subconsciously, I was treating the ingredients and shakers almost like a wall, as though they could protect me from the unrestrained sexuality pouring off her.

I just talked about this with Wynnie, I reminded myself. Shivai hadn't flashed any purple charm abilities that I'd noticed yet, but that didn't stop me from thinking perfectly reasonable guy thoughts.

You know, like kissing her. Holding her in my arms. Grabbing her butt firmly in both hands and hoisting her onto my waist while I buried my head in her gigantic, melon-sized tits.

Those kinds of perfectly reasonable guy thoughts.

"So what do you want to fuck around with?" She licked her lips, leaving them lightly parted. Her eyes remained glued to mine. "Anything within reach?"

Dammit, Shivai!

I had to resist.

"Maybe a touch of orange peel, brown sugar, baking spice, or even chocolate," I said. "Although there's a lot to like right on the bar already, sure."

Whoops. Welp.

She laughed and shifted positions, jiggling more. “Want me to fetch any of that for you? Just tell me what to do. Working here taught me that I live to serve—" Her voice dropped an octave. "And I don't mind working under a guy if he knows what he's doing."

I wanted to smile, escalate the flirtation, and hyperventilate with nerves all at once. Usually I could handle myself just fine around women. But Shivai wasn't just a woman—she was a succubus, and Earth lore was pretty clear about what getting sucked in by one of those got you.

Plus, this time Wynnie wasn’t around. That made me uneasy. I needed a second to clear my head.

"Yeah, why don't you grab some mint and some of those ingredients from the kitchen? I'll keep setting up here," I said.

She slid off the counter without a sound. Her hips swayed hypnotically as she sashayed into the kitchen. Magical charm ability or not, she exuded sensuality like nobody else. It was all I could do to keep my thoughts in line.

Wynnie deserved someone whose attention didn’t wander. I’d dated around before, and I was trying to be different here. Letting my thoughts stray around an unnaturally beautiful, sexy demonkin filled me with guilt.

Then again, I'd caught Wynnie checking her out a few times, too…

Shivai reappeared, holding two handfuls of various spices. Not in containers—just loose in her fingers, doing their best to escape. She rushed toward the bar and let go, sending all the ingredients sprawling across the countertop.

She grinned sheepishly. "Oopsies! I probably should've thought that through.”

"That's a lot more than we need, too."

"Are you sure about that?" There was a hint of playful challenge in her voice. "Who's to say I'm not going to convince you to have a few extra with me and get a little tipsy?"

"Shivai, I'm not sure that's such a great idea."

"Come on. It's just two coworkers getting to know each other. I intend to have this job for a long time, and it might be nice for us to get closer."

I was about to protest further. For one, I was still recovering from intentional overindulgence. For two, I wanted more time to settle with Wynnie before doing anything a succubus would classify as getting closer.

But Shivai pressed on, clearly accustomed to overcoming objections.

"I know you want to be respectful of your relationship, and so do I. Promise, hand on heart, I’d never do anything Wynnie wouldn’t approve of.” She actually put her hand on her heart. Kind of. There were unfathomable swells of chest between. “Think of it as job training? I really do need to know more about all these drinks I'm serving. Maybe it could help me sell them better."

I sighed reluctantly. "Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Maybe we can have one or two extra."

She clapped her hands and beamed. "Yay! You won't regret this, I promise."

Somehow, I could doubted that, and I hadn’t taken a single sip yet.

I poured rum into the shaker, followed it with some of the day's leftover fresh-squeezed lime juice and the dark simple syrup. Since I was riffing on a Richmond Gimlet, I went four parts rum, two parts lime, and one part simple. I topped it all off with an outrageous amount of mint.

Next to it, I built variations. Each got a different twist on the original. Orange peel. Cacao nibs. Baking spices. Infusions would probably be better, but this would be faster and tell me if the infusion would be worth my time.

Finally, I smacked all the shaker tins together to start the seal and shook vigorously.

Shivai grinned, leaning in to watch. She was no longer lounging on top of the bar; she'd instead elected to lean against it, letting the counter surface act like a shelf for her prodigious chest.

I wondered if her back ever got tired holding them up.

"Do your arms ever get tired doing that?" she asked.

At least we were both looking out for each other.

"Not usually. I've been doing this for years." I grunted as I set two tins down and grabbed two more to start again. "But after training today, it feels like I'm working with wet noodles instead of arms."

"Oh yeah. Training with Lady Talia, huh?”

“Yeah. Did Wynnie tell you?”

“Oh!” She looked briefly surprised, as though she’d been caught. “Um. Yep. Wynnie told me about it. When I asked where you were this morning. What, uh. What were you training?”

"Just the basics of sword fighting."

Shivai blew a raspberry, sending a tuft of hair floating away from her face. If her eyes rolled any harder, she might've sprained them. "Yikes. Sorry you had to deal with that."

"It's not so bad. I'm sure the soreness will pass."

"No, not sorry about the soreness—sorry you had to spend time around that anal-retentive dragonkin."

"You don't like her?"

"Let's just say I recently spent a few days in jail, and the accommodations and food weren't the worst part about it." She laughed breathlessly, shaking her head. "Every moralizing conversation with that prude took years off my life, I swear. I could feel my soul draining out through my ears as she filled them with her ridiculous ethical grandstanding."

"Geez, tell me how you really feel, why don't you?"

"I feel that she's a prick. She's bent so far up her own ass I’m surprised she’s not part pretzelkin.”

I snorted. "Well, I don't really mind her. Why don't you just use your charm ability if she's that bad? Couldn't you make her stop bothering you with that, um, purple-eye flashy charm thingy?"

Her cheeks went so purple they were nearly black. Was that her blushing? It was stupidly cute. She looked down, chastened.

"You saw that, huh? Sorry. I just wanted to impress you guys with how good I could sell stuff. If I don't make this job work…"

I set down my tins and waved her off. "Don't worry about it. But don't keep doing it, either. We don't want to be known as the place in town that cheats its customers. That's a bad reputation to have."

"Sorry. Won't happen again. I swear.”

I looked for some kind of eye flash, but there was none. Just the faint reflection of lantern light that made her look like a mischievous devil.

“As for charming the dragonkin, I doubt it would work." She paused for a beat, then darkened again with another impossibly cute blush. "Actually, I know it wouldn't."

"Already tried?"

"So many times. You have no idea." She set her chin on her hand. "You know how it works, right? My succubus charm?”

“Not even a little.”

“Wow. Then you’re brave, mixing it up with me!”

“Or stupid,” I offered.

She giggled, but bit it off quickly. Another form of charm, if you ask me. By this point, I could tell that even though it came naturally to her, every charismatic tic was practiced and intentional.

“My charm is more like a suggestion rather than a command. It has to be something you already might consider.”

“Like giving permission instead of a demand.” I breathed a tentative sigh of relief. “So, not truly coercive.”

“I’m not powerful enough for that. People who already like me are a bit more susceptible to it, sure. But I have my best luck with the stupid and weak-willed. They’re particularly receptive.”

As we spoke, she appeared to relax more. Her posture was less posing-for-a-pinup and more casual, draped over a counter after a hard day. The way she cocked her head slightly while discussing the finer points of mind-altering magic made me realize that this wasn’t the first time she’d spoken about it.

It almost sounded rehearsed. Even bored. And yet there was an anxious fire just behind it, like her whole run-through was the practised work of a career charlatan desperate to not get caught. The nervous drumming of her fingers might appear impatient for a cocktail, but I could see the truth.

You learn to read people after so many years behind a bar. You get to see what scares them… and what brings them to life.

Shivai was scared of being seen. The rote explanation of her succubus charm suggested as much.

Yet something told me that was exactly what brought her to life, too.

“So, people who like you are more likely to do what you want?” I strained the first cocktail into a coup. “That sounds like basic friendship stuff. Joe Blow down the street might get a few copper from me if he begged, but I’d give Wynnie my kidney, no question.”

“That’s a morbid gift.”

I was surprised she didn’t ask who Joe Blow was.

It made me wonder if there was a guy with that name who lived down the street.

"Anyway, when I turn on my charm, all I'm really doing is presenting an idea. Yet with a flash, the idea that sounds good to them, and they want to please me. Dumb folks are easy to convince.”

“Gotcha. As are the weak-willed.”

“Exactly. So many tough guys are actually followers at heart. They hold very few convictions of their own—they just believe what someone stronger or louder once told them. Might makes right to these people.”

“So when you come along with a stronger will, you dominate them.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” She shrugged, making her boobs rise and then bounce on the wooden surface.

I did my best not to stare, but my best wasn't perfect. Guy thoughts, etc.

“So you’re saying Lady Talia has her own convictions.”

"Ugh." Shivai stood up to her full height, no longer leaning forward. "And she has so many of them, too. Dragonkin are known for their deep, almost spiritual connection to morality. I don't think she could be charmed with the most powerful spell in the world."

One by one, I strained each cocktail into its own coupe in front of us. Unlike the milky jade of Richmond Gimlets, the result here was a muddy, greenish brown. Mottled flecks of mint leaves swirled in turbid muck like flooding storm drains. A thin shelf of ice formed at the top, melting slowly.

If people drank with their eyes first, then I’d need to garnish with a paper bag.

Neither of us reached for a glass. For me, it was just hesitation—I was still mid-conversation and in no rush. For her, I assumed it was deference. Despite identifying as strong-willed, she’d shown a remarkable penchant for following.

I chuckled, shaking my head. Shivai arched a brow.

"What's so funny?"

“It's just that for all of Lady Talia’s apparent moral certitude, she sure has let me get away with a lot.”

“You mean with the pirates?”

“Oh yeah. Big time. I got them blind drunk, caused a public nuisance, and then, uh.” I paused, still not comfortable saying that I’d killed someone. Self-defense or not, it felt like murder. “She let me deal with them my own way. Hell, she even helped out.”

Recognition dawn across her features. "You charmed her."

"I think I appealed to her sense of right and wrong.”

She shook her head. “Nope. Nuh-uh. You charmed her good, and you did it the old-fashioned way."

"What's that?"

"She has a crush on you. A big one. Do you think she’s pretty?"

My cheeks burned. My whole face felt hot and guilty. Fortunately, I knew just how to cool off. I reached for the nearest cocktail and dragged it close, hearing the comforting grind of glass on wood.

If I was going to talk about feelings with a succubus late at night, I was going to need a drink.

Maybe not my smartest move.