Lessons
“So you are not performing at all?”
Nahi tried to focus on the glasses in front of her. “I am, you are helping me with it.”
The bartender from one of the rooms she played at set out more bottles and garnishes. “You know what I meant, singing, dancing, something like that.”
“I am not sure the masquerade will have singers, they have go-go dancers, but my side job with them when not performing is bartending. Now I want to be a cool bartender. Show me, Pathyn.”
Shaking his head, the Kaldorei picked up a martini glass then spun it around weaving it in a pattern between his fingers. With his other hand he picked up a lime and let the rim of the glass pickup the lime juice before he dipped the glass into sugar, letting it roll lopsided like a hoop before it would crash to the ground. The rim filled with the sweet crystals, a spin of the stem to remove the extra, an image that made her think of the Tart’s signature glitter, continuing the revolution he settled the glass in front of her. The amazing thing was his eyes never left hers, a seduction of its own kind, confidence bordering on the edge of arrogance but backed up by an amazing talent for what he was doing.
Taking a shaker and filling it with ice he chilled the metal, sitting it on the counter open to wait for the drink recipe to come. “One part vanilla vodka, one part chocolate liqueur, one part marshmallow vodka.” As he spoke he picked up the bottles and juggled them, catching one he would pour with one hand, then lower it to the bar to throw another bottle behind his back over his shoulder, adding both the other ingredients at once to the shaker. Rolling them across the back of his hands to rest perfectly on the mahogany bar top once complete.
“Last shake and then add a sprinkle of ginger sugar,” he went through the steps with a smile as he watched her face, amused by the look of astonishment there, his showmanship was always a draw. Putting the shaker through its paces, the ice rattled against the metal, then he turned it and the slide of the frozen cubes within. The musician in her could compose to the sound and she wanted to close her eyes to watch the tune compose itself in her mind.
Taking hold of the mixer with both hands he tapped the edge on the bar then flipped it around with a flourish, a tap near the join let them separate easily, he opened it like an egg. The tall green skinned elf placed a cocktail strainer over the top and he poured the drink starting low over the prepared glass then gradually higher until each drip was captured. Picking up a shaker he tapped it across the back of his hand, somehow in the process he hadn’t made any kind of mess on the bar top. “S’more martini.”
Nahilvi took a sip and rolled her eyes in delight, “Divine… show me another!”
And that was how they spent their time after the bar closed, then she made him breakfast in lieu of payment. After the Masquerave, if things went well, they could celebrate.
