Sylvia Redding. It was such an elegant name; one that matched her looks to a tee. For a fraction of a second, I stared at the photo on her Maine state I.D. with appraising eyes. Most people looked horrible or awkward, but not her.
Slipping Sylvia back her I.D., I leaned on my elbows along the bar top to watch her fiddle with her wallet. Everything about her screamed grace and humility, from the way her shoulders were set back to the clothes that covered her body.
“So, Miss Sylvia, what can I get you tonight?” Arching an eyebrow as she picked up the menu, I couldn’t seem to take my attention from her beautiful, freckled face. She had bright, sparkling, wide eyes the color of the ocean, and between them, spots littered the bridge of her small nose. With each beat of the fans overhead, her light cherry blossom scent would slither up my nostrils to caress my brain.
“Eh, can I have the Chateau Merlot… and a grilled cheese with tomatoes?” The combination drew a smile from me, and Sylvia gingerly set the menu back down to turn her watchful gaze to me.
“Sure. I’ll be right back.” I tucked the menu back in its box before making my way to the kitchen. Reaching to rub the back of my neck, I ran my hands upwards into my hair before pushing open the barrier. The smell of chicken wings and frying mozzarella sticks was the first thing to hit me, but it couldn’t overpower Sylvia’s scent.
“Todd! I need a grilled cheese with tomato.” My attention was stolen when my best friend poked his head out from behind a tall standing broiler oven. Todd’s sandy, ear length hair was held up by more than one ponytail, and the sight never failed to draw a chuckle from me. His long face looked gaunt with such a style, but he hated the shaggy hair in his eyes.
“Gotcha.” Only a grunt of an answer, Todd disappeared once again before I made my way to the wine refrigerator. It had ceased to amaze me long ago how I managed to get him to work here. There were so many other places he could’ve made a name for himself; he was an absolute genius in the kitchen, after all. Yet, here he was, his classic French training going to waste on bar food.
Shaking my head slightly as I grabbed a bottle of wine, I didn’t question it more.
Emerging from the kitchen, I couldn’t hear my own footfall over the noise of at least 60 people that were completely sloshed. Peering through the throng, my eyes narrowed before I caught sight of my sister and the other two waitresses that worked here. Lucy plastered a smile on her face, but I could see even from across the room that it was fake.
Pursing my lips together, my face twisted in displeasure. One of these days my one and only sibling would end up doing something to get fired. It was one thing to hate her job, but she made sure everyone knew it.
“A glass for the lady. Your sandwich should be ready in, like, 7 minutes or so.” Setting the wine glass down carefully in front of Sylvia, my hands came together as her slender fingers wrapped around the neck of the glass. Her heart shaped face rounded in a smile, and the animal that lurked in my subconscious perked up to catch a glimpse.
“So, what brings you to Ridgeville, Alaska?” It was a simple enough question, I thought. Sylvia took a long sip of her wine, passing the time as she figured out what to say. Everything flashed across her lovely face, and I narrowed my eyes as her expression fell.
“My great aunt left me a house up here. I came to try to sell it, but I didn’t realize it was so far out.” The dismay in Sylvia’s voice had a frown dragging at my lips as they tightened into a thin line. It wasn’t what she’d revealed that surprised me, though.
It was the quiet, sympathetic rumble my bear let out that reverberated like a quake between the plates of my skull. The entity that made me inhuman was stalwart, but rarely did he react to others suffering. Clenching my hands together, I let out a breath through my nose before deciding to open my mouth.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sylvia. A bit of advice, though: you’re probably better off renting it than selling it. We get a lot of traffic through here from fishermen and hunters, especially with the salmon run starting up right now.” Even as I spoke my mind wandered slightly. The salmon run was my favorite time of the year. It was an opportunity to let my inner beast be a beast, and that kept him happy.
“I didn’t even think of that…” My thoughts were halted by Sylvia’s small words, and I shook my head slightly.
“Your aunt must’ve been an incredible woman to give you a house. You were close?” I could feel the drowning mood in the air around us, and Sylvia took another sip of her drink before letting out a heavy sigh. My gaze followed the movement, but her hand didn’t shake. Even such a sensitive subject couldn’t make her lose her cool. It was admirable, to say the least.
“We were as close as you’d expect. I saw her on Christmas and her birthday - things like that. After I graduated college and started working two years ago, we saw each other less and less, though.” From two feet away I felt the regret seeping from Sylvia’s pores, and I pursed my lips together. Deciding this was getting a bit too deep, I changed the subject even though my curiosity was thoroughly peaked.
“I’m sure she understood, especially if you’re in a field you love. How long are you planning to stay up here?” Sylvia sipped her drink daintily, and when the glass fell away from her face I was glad to see it wasn’t so drawn.
“Just until July. If I can’t sell the house, I might have to stay longer to find renters.” My bear perked up at that, ruffling his fur and tossing his head up and down. It was a sensation like air movement in the vast expanse of my consciousness, but without the air, of course. Smiling as Sylvia set her wine glass on a coaster, my human rationale worked furiously.
Glancing at the large, wood framed analog clock on the wall behind me, I pushed myself off the bar as hot energy pooled ointo my chest.
“I’ll go check your sandwich.” Only offering a nod, Sylvia turned to her purse before I started the short journey back to the kitchen. The smile on my face refused to drop, and I reached to scratch my beard as my mind worked.
One month- it wasn’t a long time. No- it was almost too little time. Almost.
Because it’s not every day that a potential mate comes waltzing into my bar.