The song isn't a necessity, I just imagine it's what's playing in the club💕

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"When your eyes met mine, my soul pointed at you and whispered to my heart."

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So I was right, tonight was difficult.

"Can I get an adios?"

"A Long Island please."

"Ma'am is my beer ready?"

One by one I made and handed over the drink orders while taking the payment in the process. I'll admit that despite it being busy, for a Monday, I was handling myself well.

Working in a fast paced environment was something I was used to. My first job in high school was a fast food restaurant, and to be honest - that was worse than this. At least here people are nicer and have a little more patient. I have yet to have a rude customer so far.

"Here you go sir it'll be eight dollars, and sorry for the wait." I set the bottle of beer down in front of the young man and he handed me a twenty dollar bill.

"No worries gorgeous, keep the change," He winked before disappearing into the crowd of people to allow a new person to take his place at the front of the bar. The tips here are amazing as well, I've earned over a hundred dollars in the past hour and I still have about six more hours to go.

Not that I need the money since I'm getting paid handsomely to bring the Anakin Skywalker down; but it never hurts to add a little extra cash to my savings fund. Plus the hourly money I earn working here doesn't actually go to me either, the FBI takes it. They don't know if it's clean or dirty money; so to an account that remains untouched is where it goes.

(For anyone who doesn't understand the concept of 'clean' or 'dirty' money. This is an explanation sent to me by someone who is involved with that kind of work; **Basically, when criminals come into A TON of money (dirty money) from illegitimate sources (narcotics, human trafficking, Ponzi Schemes etc) they will "launder" money to make it clean. Like doing your laundry. The "clean" way is EXACTLY the angle you're taking; a club/bar. And the fact that she is getting money from the club, maybe through direct deposit or checks, can be placed into the FBI account to keep track and have as circumstantial evidence as proof that this club/bar is dabbling in money laundering —One more thing to add; the way criminal make money look "clean" to place into accounts at the bank that won't raise as much suspicion, is to place it into the club/bar as ways of like "oh wow we just got $20k this weekend from all the people who came in here" when in reality the source of funds were from illegitimate sources.
Sent to me by; maddieskywalker thank you for the help babe ❤️ and if anyone is still confused on the concept and wish to understand it better, please feel free to message me!)

In the middle of making my drink orders, I'd occasionally look upstairs to the VIP section, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man that I've only seen in pictures; but he was never there. All I could see were drunk douches who paid more money than necessary to look important, when no one really cares.

Piett appeared next to me and I diverted my attention back to the job before he noticed my wandering gaze. He held an annoyed expression as he pulled a glass out from under the bar, while I began to make my hundredth AMF of the night. I'm exaggerating, but I swear these people have ordered that drink so much I'm not sure if they know there's more on the menu.

"I have to take care of something and the boss just texted me for a drink, claims he's too busy to come down himself." He grabbed a bottle of Whiskey and set it next to the glass cup on the bar top, "So I need you to take an old fashioned upstairs to his office, and remember to knock before opening unless you want to go back to job hunting." He spoke with a sigh, seeming more stressed than usual, "I'd ask Aaron, but he has more experience handling a crowd like this on his own, so he'll be fine until you get back—and use this glass." He tapped the one he had placed down on the counter with his nail before power walking away through the crowd.

My heart raced with anticipation as soon as his request registered in my mind. This was it, I was going to come face to face with the man I plan to put behind bars, and gain short access to his office.

No one in my department has ever been as physically close to him as I'm about to be, and my eyes can do a lot in a short amount of time, so I'm hoping I'll see something in there that will be beneficial to my investigation.

I rushed to make the old fashioned, with the changes Piett informed me of during my interview, and gripped the glass before lifting it from the bar. I was trying not to make it obvious by how nervous I was to go up there, but the shaking of my hand completely gave it away.

Although I was anticipating this moment, I was also nervous to be in the same room as him; that he'd somehow know I was there to deceive him. Which seems stupid, because how could he possibly know? He couldn't, he's never even seen my face before. But no one can understand this feeling until they've been in the situation themselves.

"Don't worry, he's not that bad, " Aaron spoke over the loud music, gaining my attention, "Just knock, drop it off on the desk, then leave." He gave me a quick smile with a thumbs up before going back to taking a waiting guests order.

I breathed out a long exhale and made my way towards the staircase. Minutes later—after passing through the VIP section and ignoring the cat calls from the drunken morons—I found my way back in front of the familiar black door with the butterfly etching.

I paused for a moment and checked the hallway before pressing my ear close to the wood; hoping I could overhear something of importance, but the room was silent, dead silent. I was beginning to question if anyone was in there, until finally, I heard the sound of a light scribbling as if someone was writing, or drawing.

I raised my hand and softly knocked on the door three times before waiting for a response, "Come in." A smooth voice spoke almost instantly and I placed my hand on the door knob before turning it and pushing it open.

I froze the second my eyes landed on him and I could feel the vibrations of my heartbeat in my throat. As well as the glass slowly starting to slip from my grip due to my sweaty palms. It's intimidating to be close to a man like him, especially knowing how dangerous and smart he is. He's avoided authorities for years; slipping through their fingers with almost no effort, and now here I am, less than ten feet away.

He was sitting behind a dark mahogany desk and the pen in his hand was moving smoothly along the paper in front of him. His blonde hair was a slight mess, like he ran his fingers through it a few times - frustrated over something? But his gray suit looked well kept and wrinkle free. His brows were furrowed and he looked like he was in a moment of deep focus.

I had to take a second to compose myself. I knew he was a handsome man, I've seen many pictures of him, but they sure as hell didn't do him justice. It's a shame to think about someone so beautiful being so...vile - it feels like a waste of beauty.

"I know I'm handsome, but are you just going to stand there and stare or give me my drink?" Skywalker broke the lingering silence with a narcissistic remark.

He never looked up from the paper as he spoke either, in fact, he hasn't glanced in my direction once since I've arrived. Like fully acknowledging me was the least important thing to him.

I awkwardly cleared my throat as I walked into the room; I hadn't realized I'd been standing there that long, "Sorry, I wasn't trying to interrupt your work sir," I said politely as I set the glass down on his desk, while also trying to peak at what he was writing, but I couldn't see anything.

The moment I got close enough, he placed a different paper on top of it - a document that consisted of the clubs next alcohol shipment, leaving me to question what he had hidden underneath.

Still, without looking at me and keeping his gaze on the page below, he grabbed his drink, "Close the door on your way out." He spoke in a monotone as he brought the glass near his lips.

You're welcome. I responded bitterly in my mind and turned around to leave.

I didn't expect him to be pleasant, but certainly not as rude as that. Even the cruelest of men that I've met in my line of work have uttered the words 'thank you' or 'please' every once in awhile.

As I walked to the exit, I took this opportunity to scan the medium sized office. It was more bare than I expected; he didn't have a single thing on the brown walls, not even a coat rack. All he did have—besides his desk and chair—was a small, black two-seater leather couch, and a bookshelf that consisted of a couple dozen books. All of them looked well taken care of too, not even a speck of dust could be seen.

I made my third mental note of the day that the bookshelf, along with the inside of his desk, are place's I'm going to need to search—whenever I can sneak the chance. I also have a bug that's meant to be planted in here and I needed to make sure it's in a place he wouldn't easily fine, I just have to figure out where. Most opt for under the desk, but I feel that's too obvious and can easily be found, especially by a man as smart and cautious as him.

Just as I was about to leave and close the door, his voice stopped me, "Pause." He said, causing me to freeze in the doorway with my back facing him, "Who made this?" He asked with curiosity in his tone and I turned my head to meet his blue gaze for the first time.

I'd be lying if I said he didn't have the prettiest eyes I'd ever seen. I almost felt like I was at the beach and watching the dancing waves glisten underneath the sunlight.

"I did," I told him, turning back around to face him.

He looked away from and back to the glass where he slowly spun it in a circle between his fingers, studying it like he was in a chemistry class. Then he did something that caused my jaw to drop; he tilted the cup to the side and poured all the liquid onto his carpeted floor, "Tastes like piss," He set the cup down with force and pushed it forward with his fingertip before looking back down at his paperwork, "Make it again, and right."

I blinked in surprise, wondering if he really just did that. My gaze then went to the new stained spot on the carpet; oh but he did. And I did exactly as Piett instructed, so what could I have done wrong?

I had to swallow down a snarky remark that was brought forward due to his attitude and went to grab the cup, "Of course, my apologies sir." I mumbled with a clenched jaw as I spun back around and left the room. I went down the stairs, lowly cursing him out as I did, "Dick, how would you know what piss tastes like," I mumbled, bringing myself back behind the bar.

This time I made the drink slower.

Before, I was caught up in the heat of the moment and made his drink fast like I did all the others, so I decided to take my time with this one. I even checked off each ingredient and the quantity in my mind as I made it, before picking it up and taking it back upstairs.

Again, I ignored the whistles and perverted comments as I passed the VIP section, and knocked on Skywalker's door a total of three times until he gave me permission to enter just as before.

This time when I walked in, he was seated with his back against the chair, his ocean eyes on me.

I set the cup down and went to walk away, already hating being in his presence. But he held up his finger to stop me, "Wait," He reached his hand forward and grabbed his drink. Slowly, he brought it to his lips and took a small drink; his eyes on mine the entire time.

It made me feel uneasy, like he was studying me in a way.

He then brought the cup down to the desk with a grimace and it clanked against the wooden top, "You're new right?" He leaned his head back and tilted it to the side, his eyes leisurely looking me over from head to toe.

I nodded, "Yes sir," My voice came out more high pitched than I intended it to.

"Your name?"

"(Y/n)," I responded and he raised his brows, silently urging me to finish, "Winters," I revealed the false name, my real one almost slipping out, "(y/n) Winters."

"Well Mrs.Winters-"

"Miss," I interrupted him without thinking and his eyes narrowed, "It's just Miss, I'm not married," I swallowed nervously. I had practiced these lies over and over prior to today , but now that I'm here...this is proving to be much more difficult than talking to myself in a mirror.

"My apologies," He glanced down to my left hand, "You have a tan line on your ring finger, so I just assumed."

Fuck.

"Oh," I forced a smile on my lips, "No, uh I used to have a promise ring from an old boyfriend, but that ended awhile ago and the line has yet to go away." I came up with that excuse on the spot and I have to admit, I impressed myself.

"I didn't ask for an explanation," He grabbed his glass again and took another small sip, also making another grimace as he did - showing me that he didn't like it in the slightest, "They say people who over-share are the most dishonest. Would you consider yourself dishonest, (y/n)?" His intimidating eyes were back on me.

Once again, I swallowed my nerves before shaking my head, "No, what would I have to be dishonest about?" I asked, my heart pounding.

He shrugged, "Well for starters, you claim you're a bartender, yet what kind of bartender can't make a simple old fashioned?" He pushed the glass with his fingertips and it fell off of the desk; landing on the floor. It didn't break, but the liquid spilled in my direction and splashed onto my bare legs.

I jumped back in surprise at how cold the alcohol was. This absolute asshole. It was taking every nerve in my body not to give him a piece of my mind, and the smirk he was holding didn't help either.

"Oops," He grabbed his pen and looked down to the papers in front of him, "Pick that up and don't bother bringing another, I lost my appetite for one."

With steam coming from my ears, I bent down and picked up the glass; imagining how he would look in the back of a police car - that thought brought me solace in this moment.
Then I stood up and quickly left the room, nearly slamming the door behind me.

As I walked away, I was on the brink of tears. And not because I'm sensitive over what happened or anything; I'm a tough girl and I expected him to be an ass.

But because now was the moment that I realized just how miserable my time here is going to be; and I didn't have a single friend or family member around to bring me any form of comfort.

Officially, for the first time in my life; I'm alone.

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Let me know your thoughts ❤️ Also this is going to be my attempt at a slow burn, so have patience ❤️
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