Isekai Hero Bartender

"Hey, is there any place to get cider around here?"

"You mean apple cider?" Wynnie stopped sweeping the floor and looked up. A cloud of dust bloomed around her, sparkling in rays of sunshine. "Alcoholic or nonalcoholic?"

"Do I look like a teetotaller?"

She furrowed her brow. “Is that some kind of clown?”

“... Arguably, yes. But about that cider. Any leads?”

She pursed her lips, and her eyes narrowed into thoughtful slits. It was the look of someone who knew cider could be found, but didn’t know where. Clearly, we’d need to do some asking around.

That was fine with me. As much as I’d love to hop right on it, there was no reason to rush. If what I had in mind was going to work, it would take a couple of days, plus steady practice. Besides, I was elbow-deep in cleaning the back bar, dusting nooks and crannies and wiping down the shelves.

Actually, that’s what gave me the idea about the cider in the first place. Just seeing all the bottles the captain filled me with inspiration.

Suddenly, we weren't limited to whatever we could cobble together with moonshine. A whole new world of possibilities had opened up to us. And with those new possibilities came new hopes, ideas, and a desire to create with more interesting ingredients.

"You know who we might ask? Lady Talia oversees a lot of the commerce in our town."

"Why's that?"

"Whenever merchants come through, she's around to make sure they're safe from bandits—and that the town's safe from roaming swindlers."

I scratched my jaw, rolling the concept around. It checked out. Having a bit of law and muscle around when outsiders came calling was probably an unfortunate necessity. No doubt the town had been burned before.

I just had to stomach the idea of going to visit Lady Talia. It wasn't that I didn't like her. I did, actually. The thing was, she put me on edge. Every time we spoke, a voice in my head told me to stand up straight and keep my shoulders back. Somehow, she had a bossy influence without even saying a word.

But if I was going to make us another something to drink and add to our cocktails, then this needed to happen. And, if I were being honest with myself, a part of me liked that strict aura of hers.

"Any idea where she'll be?"

"Around now? She could be on patrol, or she could be posted up at the jail. It's kind of a ways out of town to the north, but it would be less than an hour’s walk round trip.”

A bit of exercise before a lengthy shift always felt nice. Being cooped up for hours behind a cramped bar wasn’t great for one’s health. Especially not when there was ample opportunity to experiment with all the goods within arm’s reach.

We had an hour. I bet I could do it in less.

My mind was made up. I finished wiping down the shelf as quickly as I could. Then I tossed the rag on the back bar counter and instinctively checked my pockets for keys, phone, and watch.

Just thighs again, of course. One day I'd get used to that.

Wynnie brightened. "Oh! Did you want to go now?"

"Yeah. Might as well figure this out before service."

"What do you want cider for, anyway? Just looking for something easy to serve that doesn't require shaking or stirring?"

"I…" Okay, that was actually a pretty good idea. And one I probably should follow up on. "Maybe we'll need two barrels," I muttered. Then I regained focus and told her my plan.

***

Wynnie's plump little legs struggled to keep up with me. I was trying to walk slowly, but she was still huffing and puffing. Her cheeks glowed bright red, and her glasses steamed up with the heat. A thin layer of perspiration dotted her brow.

She looked very similar to how she'd looked last night. And the night before.

We still hadn't taken things any further. Mostly, it was just kissing and letting our hands get to know each other's bodies better. But we were going at it as though making up for lost time—while also being careful not to rush things.

And of course, it meant we stayed up too late several nights running. And with the late nights came late-night snacks. We were running through scones much faster than usual, and we'd taken to enjoying a glass of cheap port with them to help us get back to sleep.

I could feel the effect on my body. All the light cardio and the lack of processed foods had me in better shape than when I arrived, but the wee-hour scones were setting me back. The grueling pace I’d set reminded me to treat my body better.

Hearing Wynnie’s gasping grunts reminded me to treat her better, too. It was downright unfair to charge forward like that. I paused so she could catch her breath.

Her hands rested on her knees, and she doubled over, taking deep, heavy breaths.

“Decided you don’t like me anymore?”

“What? No, I—”

"Because look here, mister. You can’t just kiss a girl and run away! You…” She took a breath, her chest heaving to catch up to her words. “You’re stuck with me now!"

I chuckled. As if I'd ever want to ditch this woman.

"See? You laugh, but here you are, racing off to see another woman! A fitter one, at that!"

"Don't worry, Wynnie. I wouldn't do that to you," I promised. “You’re the only girl for me.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Was I imagining things, or did she almost look disappointed when I said that?

"Well, let's not be too hasty," she murmured. She could’ve been talking about my pace or my proclamation about not seeing other women. "Okay. Let's get a move on."

The houses around us had thinned. We were definitely entering a more rural setting, no longer surrounded by the hustle and bustle of a miniature port town. The road beneath our feet was no longer flat and hard-packed by daily foot traffic. Instead, ruts criss-crossed lazily, wearing rutted two deeper grooves into the land where horses and carts traveled.

Here and there, stones jutted out of the highway. We wove our way around them, holding hands lightly, just a few fingers interlaced. A cool sea breeze rustled our clothing, and I closed my eyes as I breathed in the salty smell of contentment.

"Oh! Lady Talia! Good afternoon!"

My eyes snapped open. Right in front of us, strolling down the lane, strode the young dragonkin constable. Her gleaming sword swung from her hip as usual. Her breastplate reflected the world around it with a freshly polished shine.

"Wynnie, greetings. Drew, hello. Are you two just out for a stroll?"

So stiff.

"Actually, we were on our way to see you," I said, giving a little wave. "Wynnie was showing me the way to your, um, offices?"

"You mean the jail? It's a bit dour in there. I needed some fresh air." As if to emphasize the statement, she tilted her head back, letting the afternoon sun sparkle off her skin like a twilight vampire. "What were you coming to see me for?"

“We’re on a quest for cider.” Wynnie looked at me with a hint of confusion. "Apparently we need a bunch. Drew wanted me to jack it.”

“Wha–what!?” Lady Talia coughed, choking out her surprise. "Why are you telling me?”

"Apparently anyone can do it, but I can do it faster and better.”

“W–Wynnie!”

I probably could’ve said something, but morbid curiosity had taken the wheel. How was Wynnie going to explain this?

Wynnie continued, oblivious and earnest. “He says if I jack it, we can make it harder. He thinks we could turn a decent profit, even.”

“And you’d be okay with that?”

Wynnie gave a shrug. “I’ve been okay with everything else he’s had me try so far, so I don’t see why not. Say, why don’t you join us? Maybe you could taste it as I go.”

The dragonkin’s pearlescent skin glowed a bright red. Her gaze flitted back and forth between my trousers and Wynnie’s delicate hands.

“Is that what you really wanted to ask me? Because, well,” she looked at me, panicked. “I’m a lady, and you really should buy a girl a drink first.”

“Oh, you could drink as you go. That’s what I do. It makes swallowing the final product easier if Drew’s trying something new that doesn’t turn out great.”

Lady Talia’s mouth hung open.

I’d gone from amused to mildly mortified in a matter of sentences. My cheeks burned from something more primal than the UV index. I almost wanted to laugh, but if I did, I’d probably sound hysterical.

I needed to quell the misunderstanding immediately.

"What Wynnie means is that I want to make applejack. It's a drink. You take apple cider, freeze off some of the water, and remove the ice. Do that a few times, and you're left with concentrated cider that has a higher alcohol content." I waited a beat, letting the explanation land. Then I put on the finishing touch. "The process is called jacking the cider. Like, you're jacking the alcohol content up."

Understanding dawned in her features, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Oh. Jack it. What's the point of that?"

I shrugged. "It tastes good. And you can mix it with other ingredients to make fun cocktails."

Lady Talia chewed furiously on her bottom lip, averting her eyes. Her blush had only deepened. She kept shooting glances my way, fidgeting with the pommel of her sword and tucking the same strand of hair behind her ear over and over.

The distant crashing of waves roared up from the cliffs to our left. The screech of gulls disappeared into the wind.

"Okay, I guess that's enough awkwardness for today," I said. "Lady Talia, any idea where we could get some cider to try this?"

She looked relieved for the moment to have passed. "The closest cider mill is a little south of Northridge. They don't send much our way. Not much demand in a small town like ours that stays out of trouble."

I bit back a grimace. If this all went right, then I'd be providing exactly the kind of fuel that would get a little town like this into trouble. I'd never gotten too familiar with applejack, really. The Jack Rose was one of my favorite go-to drinks for people who wanted a classic off the beaten path, but outside of that?

Here was hoping the townsfolk were as adventurous as I was when experimenting. Wynnie nudged me in the side with her arm. Her chubby cheeks and cherubic smile warmed me more than the coastal weather ever could.

"So what do you think, Lady Talia? Can you send word up to the cidery?"

"The post should be heading up the road tomorrow. I'll make sure we get an order down here for you." She eyed me suspiciously. "How much cider did you say you wanted?"

"Uh." How much did a barrel of cider cost here, anyway? "Two barrels?"

"Are you asking me?"

"Yes?"

She shook her head. "A barrel is about fifteen gallons. More than one person can drink alone, and usually enough for any tavern for at least a few days." Then, a look of pity. “You might be able to stretch it a bit longer, I’m afraid.”

So, a pony keg. And some shade. Sure.

“Anyway, I have places to be. People to question.”

Wynnie cocked her head. "I thought you said this was just a pleasant stroll?"

"A stroll to investigate. Apparently, some jewelry has gone missing in town. Necklaces, rings, that sort of thing. I think I know who we're after, but I need to follow up on some leads.”

“Pirates?” I asked.

She frowned. “No. But we should be on the lookout for them anyway. Good day."

She saluted us firmly, still blushing furiously. I craned my neck around to watch her go.

Wynnie whacked me lightly on the arm.

"Sorry. I wasn't staring."

"No, I don’t care about that. But she was. Did you see how she couldn't even look at you when we were talking about jacking the cider?"

I chuckled. "Yeah, but that's because it wasn't about the cider. She thought you were going to jack me."

Wynnie blinked several times. "But. I was pretty explicit…”

Yeah, she was.

Her face fell, and finally the contagious blush from earlier spread to her cheeks as well. "Oh, my goodness! And I invited her to try it!"

I laughed. "I bet she'll do everything in her power to avoid us for quite some time."

A beat passed, and Wynnie shook her head. A studious gleam crossed her eyes. "No, I don't think so. She seemed flustered, but not disgusted."

I watched the dragonkin continue to stride down the lane. Her gait was, by measures, less steady and confident than when she'd first approached.

Then she looked back over her shoulder, slowly, hopefully. And upon seeing that we were watching her, she immediately whipped her gaze ahead again and doubled down on her speed.

"Call me crazy, but I suspect she was actually thinking about it."

"Okay. You're crazy."

"No. Actually, I'm almost sure of it. Call it a woman's intuition."

Wynnie appeared thoughtful. Considering. Whatever hint of jealousy I'd expected from her, I wasn't actually detecting any of it. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect she was thinking about it, too.

Call it a gentleman's intuition.

Wynnie clapped her hands as though knocking off the dust. "So!" she said brightly. "Cider should be on the way. We might get some in a week. Or maybe a couple of months. Now what?"

"Now? Now we get ready for work.”

“Ooh! Fun! Let’s get in the zone with a drink first!”

That didn’t sound like the worst idea. We’d just walked off a few calories, after all. And we had little else to keep us entertained, right?

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