Brea

Within thirty minutes, I have a uniform shirt on, and I'm wandering between the tables. My eyes roam over the faded wallpaper, the scratched tables that have certainly seen better days. The windows are foggy and covered in grime, hardly allowing much natural light to filter through. The carpets are faded and way overdue for renewal, but despite all its flaws, it's a warm, cosy space. It's rustic and unintentionally vintage. I kind of love it.

Cassie disappears out the back, calling out something to me that I don't catch.

"Hi, Darlin," an elderly man with a straggly grey beard smiles at me. "I haven't seen yer around here before."

"I'm new," I reply. "Well. I grew up here but haven't been back for a long time."

The man looks taken back by this. "You grew up here, diddya'? What's yer last name?"

"Lancaster."

He jolts as if having stuck his finger in a power socket. "Lancaster?" His booming voice collects the attention of nearby tables. Eyes swivel in my direction to see what the commotion is. "Yer not ol' Mick Lancaster's daughter? The one who left all those years back with yer Ma?"

Silently, I nod, feeling a little overwhelmed at the scrutiny I'm now receiving. Murmurs break out amongst the small cluster of people spread out across the small eating area. Wide eyes, whispering behind hands, shocked gasps, and exclaims. Heat rises in my cheeks.

"I'll be damned," the man mutters, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see you again."

"Yeah," I say softly. "I never had plans to return."

The curiosity in his expression is totally transparent. Everyone must wonder why my mum fled in the middle of the night and only took one of her children. I presume it was the talk of the town for months. Maybe years.

Even I don't know the true answer to that. It wasn't worth the headache and the drama of asking. Her overreaction was enough to silence me. She turned into a different person when I mentioned this place and asked her questions she didn't want to answer. I learnt to accept it, but now that I'm older and back here, I wonder how the hell I ever sat idly by and never demanded the information from her. Maybe because I knew she never would have told.

"Why are yer back, then?" he eventually asks after the silence has stretched on too long to be considered not awkward. I straighten my spine, a little startled out how openly nosy this man is. It appears everybody in Glendale is enjoys getting into other people's business. Small towns, I suppose. People in the city don't have the time to care. Even if they do have the time, they simply wouldn't ask. It's certainly different out here. In a way, I like that this place has character, and the people want to know about you. I just wish I didn't have such a secretive background that everyone is dying to know about.

"My father," I answer. "He's in hospital. Nathan told me to come home."

His white eyebrows rise, almost disappearing into his bushy, unkept hair.

"Mick?" he echoes. "In hospital?"

I nod.

"Is he all right?"

"I think so," I say. "He seems better."

"Well. That's good news, then." He nods, taking a sip of his beer. "So, yer must be staying a while, if yer working here?"

I lift my shoulder, offering a half-shrug. "I'm honestly not sure of my plans right now. I thought I may as well save some money while I'm here."

Folding his arms across his chest and resting them on his rotund belly, he nods, seeming happy enough with that answer.

"Good on ya, Darlin." He gives me a thin-lipped smile.

Drifting away from his table, I stroll around the room, memorising the placements and the numbers, attempting to ignore the holes burning into my back from the stares of everyone in the room.

It's certainly quieter and more laid back than my previous bartending job. I think I like the relaxed atmosphere.

"You good, new girl?" Cassie calls over her shoulder at me as she walks back in, carrying a large box.

I walk back to the bar and nod, picking up an overused rag. "Yep. All good here."

When a few customers stand and gravitate toward the bar at the same time, I hastily make my way around and help Cassie serve. When everyone is back at their table, Cassie continues going over tasks to do for the night.

We head out the back and push the trolley with the new stock out to the fridges. She continues cleaning the glasses while I restock.

"So, what were you doing for work before?" Cassie asks.

"I was involved in marketing for a big media company. Handling their social media, organising presentations and pitches. An office job, basically. Sitting at a computer for eight hours a day." I answer. "I liked it, though. My desk had an amazing view and they had great coffee on standby."

"Good coffee is essential," she agrees. "You're not working there anymore?"

Exhaling, I shake my head. "No. I was devastated about losing my job, but I think I'm over it now. I needed a change. Besides, my now-ex worked on the same floor. I just needed to get out of there. I'm all for a fresh start."

"Yikes. Sounds messy."

"Mmhmm," I mumble my reply, leaning into the cold air so I can push the new stock to the back. "What about you?"

"I've always worked in hospitality, but I'm studying a Bachelor of Psychology. It's mostly online but every so often I have to travel into the closest campus to do prac."

"That's cool. Are you enjoying it?"

"Yeah, it's great. Hard, though."

"Yeah, it would be." Closing the fridge door, I rest my hip against the bench. "Hey... Question. Do you know anything about this upcoming challenge?"

"The Legen-Dairy Challenge?" Cassie raises an eyebrow.

I blink at her. "That's what it's called?"

"Sadly, yes. It's been around since before we were born."

"What is it, exactly?"

"A bunch of teams get together and compete for prizes. It's a big, annual event that gets taken way too seriously."

"I see." I nod, taking in her words. It's sweet my brother wants me to be a part of something like this. "Do you compete?"

"Of course," she answers. "We have won for the last few years in a row."

"Who's 'we'?"

She opens her mouth to reply, when the large wooden front door swings open with an ear-wincing squeak. The sound ricochets around the space, demanding the attention of every person in the room.

Turning, my gaze lands on the tall, handsome farmer who has been occupying my mind far too regularly. My heart skips a beat as his serious gaze settles on me. Swallowing, I let myself take in the tight t-shirt clinging to his chest, exposing the hard muscle underneath.

He pauses, eyes narrowing sharply as he takes in my outfit and placement behind the bar. In two long strides, he reaches the bar and presses his palms onto it, leaning forward.

"You," he says in that deep, sexy voice of his. A shiver runs down my spine at the sound of it. I definitely don't think about him whispering sweet nothings into my ear while I roll around in his bed. Absolutely not.

"You," I repeat in the same tone.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

I screw my face up at his rude tone. "I work here, thank you very much."

"The fuck you do," he snaps.

"Excuse you?" I scoff, glancing to Cassie, whose eyes are flicking between us like she is watching a ping-pong match.

"You do not work here," he says, looking surlier by the second. "You do not work for me."

Ice slithers through my veins at his words. My mouth opens and closes for a moment as my mind processes what the hell he just said.

"What?" I manage to choke out after a few embarrassingly silent seconds.

"This is my pub," he continues.

"Since when?" I ask, which is a completely stupid question, but I'm scrambling right now.

"Since before you so graciously blessed us with your presence."

"What the hell did I do to you to earn this sort of attitude?" I growl, throwing down the rag dramatically, ignoring the wide eyes of everyone who is watching us. "Huh? Tell me."

"Lancaster blood doesn't belong here," he sneers.

Cassie gasps, covering her mouth. I turn to her in surprise, unable to comprehend the audacity of this man.

"No..." she whispers, slowly lowering her hand. "You... you're Nathan's sister?"

"Lancaster blood has no place here," Zander repeats in a hard voice.

The heat of Zander's glower has me burning all over. I'm humiliated and furious. How dare he carry on like this? He may have some lifelong feud with my brother, but that has nothing to do with me.

The fiery ball of anger suddenly dissipates, whooshing through me with a severity that has the breath hitching in my throat. Tears spring to my eyes, betraying me in my most vulnerable moment.

Zander's stern look slowly slips as he realises. With shaking hands, I rip the apron off me and toss it to the ground. Rushing around the bar, I storm past him and through the door. It bangs harshly behind me, rattling the walls.

The tears spill down my cheeks and I let out a ragged, close-mouth scream. I'm sick of fucking crying.

I don't stop running until I hit a fence and almost go flying over the top of it. My chest is heaving as I struggle to draw breath.

I don't belong there. I don't belong here. Where the hell am I supposed to go?

--------------

I hope you're having a wonderful week! <3

Have you heard of the new YONDER app launched by Wattpad & WebToon? It's a next-generation reading app that allows you to binge-read some of your Wattpad favourites and also features YONDER exclusive stories. 

My Wattpad title 'Darker Than Sin' is one of the stories featured on there! If YONDER is not available right now in your country, it will be very soon!

The app is downloadable now via App and Play stores now! :-)