2 RHEA
The brewery's dim lights cast a warm glow over our corner table as I scribble down another answer. The smell of hops and pretzel bites mingles in the air.
"What was the name of Ron's owl?" Jake reads from his phone, designated quiz master for our table.
"Pigwidgeon," I answer without looking up. "But Ginny nicknamed him Pig."
"Show off." Brianne tosses a pretzel at me. "Some of us haven't read the series twelve times."
"Hater." I dodge another pretzel. "And I'm not showing off, I'm securing our victory. Eyes on the prize - free pitchers next week."
"The prize is supposed to be fun with friends," Ainsley chimes in, but she's grinning as she marks down another correct answer.
"Winning is fun." I take a sip of my IPA. "Next question."
"What position did Oliver Wood play on the Quidditch team?"
Jake asks.
"Keeper," three voices chorus together.
"See? You guys know stuff too." I reach for the pretzel bowl, but my phone buzzes in my pocket. I glance, a number I don't recognize.
Odds are it's a bill collector, but I've gotten pretty good at the art of faking a shitty signal and hanging up. But something tells me to take it.
"Hey, let me take this real quick." I wave my outdated iphone with the cracked screen like a beacon. "Ya'll screw up our lead while I'm gone, and I'll kick all of your muggle assess!" I say with a smile.
I slip outside into the cool evening air, the brewery's neon signs casting purple shadows across the sidewalk.
"Hello?"
"Is this Rhea Spry?" The voice on the other end has a smooth, rich quality that makes me stand a little straighter.
"Speaking."
"This is Corey Mendoza from The Undercurrent. I'm calling about your application."
My stomach drops. "Oh shit! I mean, hi, yeah." I lean against the brick wall, watching a couple stumble past.
The deep laugh from the other end of the line does something to me I'm not willing to acknowledge.
"Listen, I stumbled across your application, and I was wondering if you were available to come in tonight to interview? I know it's kind of last minute but it's a slow night and I figured I could do something productive."
I glance down at my vintage Gryffindor t-shirt and ripped jeans.
"Um, yeah, I suppose I can. Though I should probably warn you I'm not exactly dressed for a job interview. Currently at Harry Potter trivia night at the brewery."
"That sounds… interesting, but hey, don't let me interrupt your night. You can come in tomorrow or another day if you don't have plans."
"No really, it's okay." I push off from the wall, my fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on my jeans. "I don't want to pass up the opportunity. I really need a job. I'm banking on winning this trivia round to cover our beer tab next week."
His laugh rumbles through the phone again, sending a shiver down my spine. "In that case, go back inside and kick ass. When you're finished, just come on in."
"You sure? I mean, it could be late, what time do you close?"
"Late. It’s a bar, not Walmart. Just come when you're done. Come as you are. The bar is on 7th, can't miss it."
"Thanks, I really appreciate this."
"See you soon, Rhea."
The way he says my name is like he’s confessing some sin. I pass off the feeling that it gives me in lieu of having one too many pale ales.
I slip my phone back into my pocket and head back inside where Brianne's giving me the death glare.
"You might want to quit with the snarling, leaves wrinkles. Botox is out of our price range at the moment, bestie." I say with a grin.
Brianne has always been concerned with the latest skin care tips and prioritizing her "youth." Me on the other hand, could give a shit less.
Take it or leave it.
She's practically radiating steam, another thing about Brianne Mills. She hates to lose.
"I couldn't remember if it was 14 or fucking 4 Privet Drive so I just went with 4. If I just fucked this up and we're stuck drinking smirnoff because you were outside shooting the shit with god knows who."
"Calm your tits, you got it right. And I might have just landed a job."
"Wait, what do you mean? The bar?" Her eyes widen, her pretzel frozen halfway to her mouth.
"Yeah, that place I applied last night. The owner just called.
Wants me to come in later tonight for an interview."
"Holy shit!" She jumps up, nearly knocking over her beer. "Our Rhea, about to be the next Tom Cruise in Cocktail."
"Please, I'd be way better at flipping bottles than Tom Cruise." I strike a pose, mimicking mixing an invisible drink.
Jake raises his glass. "To Rhea - saving us from ramen noodles one cocktail at a time."
"Maybe you'll be buying next week's round even if we lose,"
Ainsley adds with a wink.
"Don't jinx it." I sit back down on the sticky barstool. "I haven't even interviewed yet."
"Please." Brianne waves her hand dismissively. "With your charm and sparkling personality? You'll have the job before you can say
'Wingardium Leviosa.'"
"You're pronouncing it wrong." I do my best Hermione impression. "It's Levi-O-sa, not Levio-SA."
Bri throws another pretzel at me.
I dodge it, shouldering my bag. "Now let's win the damn house cup.”
M y teammates voices barely registers as I tap my fingers against the sticky table.
That voice on the phone keeps replaying in my head. Deep, confident, with just a hint of something dangerous. The kind of voice that makes promises in the dark.
"Earth to Rhea!" Brianne snaps her fingers in front of my face.
"Dragon egg, right?"
"What? No." I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. "It was the maze. The dragon was the first task."
"Someone's distracted." She leans in, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "What was so enthralling about that phone call?"
"Nothing, carry on you harlot." I say with an eyeroll, trying to blow it off. Years of friendship and she can see right through me.
The questions blur together as my mind wanders to The Undercurrent. What kind of place is it? What kind of man has a voice like that? My fingers drum faster against the table as I check the time again.
"For fuck's sake," Ainsley laughs, "just go already. We've got this covered."
"But-"
"We're crushing it," Jake confirms. "Ten points ahead with three questions left. Even Ron couldn't mess this up."
"You sure?"
Brianne practically shoves me off my stool. "Go get that job so we can eat real food again. Text me everything."
"Thanks guys." I grab my bag, giving them each a quick hug.
I head for the door, my heart already racing with anticipation.