First Meeting | phobeworld
Peter gave a low hum as he walked through the street. It wasn’t particularly busy and it was one of the three hours shifts where the bar was relatively dead, so he’d left a manager in charge and gone to buy some Turkey, Bacardi [in five flavors] and Daniels for the backup supply in the basement. The supply had gotten a bit low since a combination of a Bachelorette party and a birthday party had come in within an hour of each other. The wolf rolled his eys. He saw more drunk women than anything on weekends, and it was quite annoying. Not that he didn’t mind the drunken men and women who came in for a good time, he just occasionally wished there was eye candy for the younger staff to gawk at when Chris was around. He’d nearly broken a girl’s hand when she’d let her hand glide up the hunter’s arm while at the bar. Shaking the image from his head, he walked into the store, greeting the young man up front and going straight for the section he needed, sliding his hands into his pockets as he debated which vodka flavors he should buy.
