Vulnerable (Book One) Complete!

chapter one

Jensen

     The bar was extremely slow for a Saturday night in LA. I'd sent my dad on his way long ago, telling him I had no problem closing up. Now, it was just me and the jukebox. We only had an hour left until close so I cranked the music and began my cleaning.

     I danced around the open floor, cleaning up garbage from tables, and stacking empty glasses. I swayed my hips to the music, singing my heart out knowing that no one could hear me. I went into the kitchen, tossing the trash and putting the dishes in the sink. I made my way back to the bar, cleaning the glasses from there and wiping down the counters.

     "Are you still open?" I screamed at the sudden voice, dropping a glass on the floor, breaking it into a million pieces.

     "Shit!" I picked up the pieces, being careful not to cut my hand. I glared at the cause. "Yeah, we're open for like the next thirty minutes. What can I get you?" I turned the music down, looking at the man in front of me.

     I would by lying if I told you he wasn't attractive. He was tall but fit. His jawline was sharp and chiseled, but his features were soft. His curly brown hair was short and looked ran through. He had his plump pink lips trapped between his fingers and his green eyes were a shade I'd never seen before. He wore a black t-shirt covered with a trench coat and pants that flared out towards the bottom.

     "I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry. Uhm, a Jack and Coke would be great." He was British, of course he was. What was a Brit doing in LA?

     I made his drink quickly before cleaning up the mess I'd made. Sighing, I threw the broken pieces in the trash and grabbed a broom and dustpan for the rest.

     "You have a lovely voice by the way." I looked up to give him a confused look. He was smiling at me. I crossed my arms over my chest.

     "You were listening to me sing? How long were you here before you scared the shit out of me?" I was annoyed at this point, noticing we now closed in fifteen minutes and nothing aggravated me more than guests who came in and sat down with only an hour left open.

     "Oh, I, uhm, I wasn't here long I just came across this place and noticed the sign and I heard you singing and.." His voice trailed off and I rolled my eyes.

     "We close in 15 minutes so I suggest you hurry up with your drink." I knew I was being rude but letting anyone other than my family hear my singing was not something I was a fan of. I had god awful stage fright and no matter how much my dad tried to convince me to let others hear my voice, it was something I could never do.

     "Oh, right. Sorry. I won't be long." I nodded at him, the exhaustion from working open to close was getting to me. I stretched my tired limbs as I finished up my closing tasks.

     "I'm Harry, by the way." He spoke up again, causing me to turn towards him. He spun the contents of his drink around in his glass. I noticed he wore a ring on almost every finger and light blue polish on each nail.

     "Jensen." I answered shortly, not really interested in getting to know Harry.

     "You're quite the grumpy one, Jensen." He smirked at me, a dimple appearing on the left side of his lips. I glared at him.

     "Yeah well you would be too when you work an open to close almost every day of your life." I huffed at him, "Or when customers feel the need to come in and scare you thirty minutes until we close."

     "Fair enough." He took the last swing of his drink before throwing down a twenty. I picked up the cash, telling him I'd grab him change.

     "No, no change love, you can keep it." I raised my brow at him, confused at the kind gesture after I'd been pretty rude.

     "It's only like eight bucks are you sure?" He nodded at me before hopping off the bar stool and leaving through the door without another word. I shook my head at this. I quickly counted the drawers before locking up and heading out into the warm air.

     The bar was only a ten minute walk to my apartment and only about five minutes from my dad's house. I loved working for my dad. It was his life long dream to open a bar and have my sister and I work for him.

After my mom passed away, he put his everything he had into this small bar in downtown LA and as soon as my sister and I turned sixteen we were bussing tables, doing dishes, and occasionally cooking. Once we hit nineteen we were serving and learning in the early morning how to make drinks. Once we hit 21, we were already masters at making drinks and my dad couldn't be prouder of the both of us. Of course, he had always begged me to pursue a singing career as well but I fought him every time.

Once I reached my apartment, I unlocked the door and set my purse on the counter. I walked by my sisters room, noticing her passed out with the lights on, papers scattered about the floor. I quietly made my way into her room, picking up the scattered papers and then shutting her light off and closing her door.

Reese was my baby sister, almost exactly three years younger than me. She turned 21 last month but always seemed to manage to look older than me. Reese and I looked like twins, and we'd be rich if we got a nickel for each time someone asked. We both had dark brown hair, hers was short, mine hit about mid back. Both inherited my fathers brown eyes, mine were just a bit lighter and our face shapes were different, her's more of a heart shape and mine rounder. She'd gotten my dad's dimples and I'd gotten his rosy cheeks and freckles. She was taller than me by about 6 inches and we both had a different style. Mine more laid back and her's more dressed up.

Our personalities were total opposites as well. I was more stubborn and driven while Reese was more laid back and open. We butt heads all the time but I'd do anything for her and I know she'd do the same.

I made my way into the bathroom, stripping my clothes off and hopping into the warm shower. The hot water loosened my sore muscles and after a few minutes I was completely exhausted. I got out, threw on a pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt and crawled into bed, ready to face the same routine all over again.