The sun was shining, the sound of plates and glasses clinking fill the air as well as the sound of chatter. The country club was busy today.

Being a pogue isn’t easy. It means working constantly, keeping an income. You definitely envy kooks. They get everything handed to them on a silver platter. Most of them have never worked a day in their lives.

But you have to work. To support yourself. Your family. Which is why you got a job wherever you could. And that just happened to be at the country club.

The place that is always full of kooks. Great.

You don’t actually mind working there. It’s an easy job. Serve kooks, simple. Until you get some spoiled kook judging you because you’re a pogue. Or blaming you for anything and everything.

Other than that, it’s not too bad.

You are continuously on your feet. Serving food. Making drinks. Cleaning up spills from messy kids.

And now? Now you have to serve Rafe Cameron. You don’t know him. Not personally. But you’ve heard enough about him to have an opinion. And you don’t like him.

You stand at the edge of his table. He’s here with his friends, Topper and Kelce. And you stay polite. Your voice friendly.

“What can I get you guys?”

Of course, Topper and Kelce make jokes about you being a pogue. They laugh to themselves.

But Rafe, he doesn’t laugh at their jokes. Doesn’t even smile. He just looks up at you.

Normally he would laugh, make a snarky comment. But he doesn’t. Not with you. Instead, his voice is almost, soft? Not like what you’ve been told about him.

“Three beers, please.”

He doesn’t look away from you. He can’t. It’s like he’s being drawn in. Like your eyes are holding his own captive.