Why We're Here

A New Job

I need a job," I muttered to myself more than to Barbara.
As usual, she was sitting at her desk. She had built up her computers to where she had four, all running different programs. From what she's told me, she wants to become the all-knowing, all-seeing Oracle. It would be the only way for her to fight while she's like this. I was lying on the couch behind her, clearly annoying her.
"If it'll get you out of the house, yes," she replied.
I lifted an eyebrow, "I'm gone five hours of the day."
"And here seven. You need to get out more, Lucy, you're a social person. You're practically withering away."
"I think your main concern is getting me out of your hair," I stated.
"That too," she cockily grinned at me.
"Wow, I love you too, Babs."
She laughed, "Seriously, though, if you want a job, I'm sure there are several opportunities around. If you drop the 'ward of Bruce Wayne' card, you'll get any job you want."
"You're right."
I rolled off the couch, landing on my feet. Before I left, I kissed Barbara's cheek. She pushed me away, "You still annoy me."
"It was worth a shot."
With that, I left to go to my bedroom. My laptop was still open on my bed from the paper I was writing that morning. I fell in front of it and opened it, looking up job opportunities.
There were several choices. Things like restaurants, retail shops, parks, museums, even Wayne Enterprises had an opening. I skipped all of these. I wanted something fun, something daring.
"A club," I read, "Bartender needed. Wow, pays twenty bucks an hour plus tips. That must be one prestigious club."
It was listed as four blocks away. I messaged the owner asking for an interview. Once I sent, all I had to do was wait.
I got up and went to get a cup of hot chocolate. On the way, I passed by the study. Barbara was on the phone, talking quietly. For her, that was the opposite of suspicious. Still, something about the way she kept glancing around nervously was suspicious. I shrugged it off and went to make my drink.
When I returned to my room, the owner had replied. The email sat at the top of my screen, surprising me. Instantly, I opened it up.

Miss Brimsey,

I would be happy to interview you. How does tomorrow at three sound?

Oliver Queen

I smiled. That sounded perfect, tomorrow was my day off from school. I quickly emailed him back to seal the deal. When I finished, I shut my laptop and practically danced into the study.
"Babs!" I exclaimed, "Guess who has an interview!"
***
The next day, I made my way to the club. It was a nice place situated on a nice street of Gotham. The name, Verdant, stood above the glass doors in shining purple lights. Inside, it was exactly the sort of club you would picture. Raised sides held lounging chairs and a bar. The dance floor was sunk lower than the sides, and was tiled with mechanics so it would be it's own lighting system.
The club was empty except for me and the owner, Oliver Queen. He sat at the bar waiting for me. As soon as he saw me, he grinned and beckoned me over. As I came closer, something about him seemed familiar.
His face was pointed like an eraser. He had a thin blonde goatee that matched his hair. His smile seemed to be permanent. I could feel the the two of us would become good friends.
"Miss Brimsey," he stuck his hand out for me to shake.
I obliged, "Please, call me Lucy, Mister Queen."
"In that case, you can call me Oliver."
The two of us chuckled. He gestured for me to sit by him. I obeyed, moving my backpack into my lap.
"So, you live around here?" he asked.
I nodded, "In an apartment with my friend four blocks down."
"Location, good," he grinned, "What about experience?"
"I mean, I was a bartender at a few of my foster father's parties, but otherwise, none."
"Good enough," he shrugged, "You'll learn. What about now? What do you do?"
I ran a hand through my hair, "I'm going to college at Gotham University."
"How old are you?"
"I'm nearly twenty-one," I replied, "Well, I will be in four months."
Oliver stared at me for a minute, "That's old enough for me."
I smiled. Honestly, I had been kind of nervous that he would turn me down because of my age or lack of experience. He seemed like a welcoming man, who might even be patient enough to teach me.
"What makes you want to work here?" Oliver asked, "surely you're not learning to bartend your entire life."
I shook my head, "I need to get out of the house, says my friend. Also, I'm kind of broke."
That wasn't entirely true. Bruce had started a trust fund for me the moment he took me in. After several years, it had grown pretty big.
"You know," Oliver stroked his beard, "You look oddly familiar. Have you ever been on the news?"
At first, I was going to deny. The first conclusion I drew was that he was recognizing me from my days of Blitz. Then, I remembered being interviewed several times as the female ward of Bruce Wayne. He was a popular man, and his 'children' became popular by default.
"Sort of," I replied, "Not for awhile. You probably recognize me from the interview with Bruce Wayne's wards a few years ago."
Oliver snapped his fingers, "Of course, you're that Lucille Brimsey! How did I not realize?"
He laughed. I began to worry that this new knowledge would make him think twice about hiring me. Instead, he clapped a hand on my back, "Don't worry, Lucy, you'll fit right in."
"Does that mean I'm hired?"
"Of course!"
I smiled brightly. Oliver's laughter was intoxicating, making me giggle as well. I could feel we would grow to be friends, and that pleased me.
It was nice to have a friend who wasn't a secret superhero.