After we had our three-course dinner, we went to the bar of the hotel, and it was chaotic because apparently the bartender master in cocktails had gone out for a second and ended up ran over by a car, and was alive but in the hospital. At least it's what I eavesdropped from the staff.
"Fuck," the old man cursed in Italian. "The house is full tonight, it's the duo night of Absinthes and Passion Fruit specials, plus the other damn drinks those people ask for. We won't find an expert out of nowhere."
The younger woman around her 30s who was working with him let out a curse in German, but kept speaking Italian with him, "What do we do? If tonight is messed up, we'll all be in trouble. The manager said there are some billionaire guests present, and we need to do our best tonight."
"We are fucked," he cursed again. Let's talk in Italian then.
"I'm sorry for eavesdropping on you, but can I help?" They both jumped startled when I appeared behind them, and turned to me.
"Help us?" She gasped. "You are a guest, my Lady."
"A guest who's very skilled at cocktails," I winked and pointed at their cocktails menu, "and I also know how to make all of these."
"What?" The old man gasped, hope flooding him.
"You should take advantage of my skills, it's my last night in here," I purred. "I also won't charge you for anything. Making cocktails is joyful to me, it's a hobby I really enjoy. No one does cocktails better than me in all of my family, and it's a huge family."
"Are you sure, my Lady?" The woman asked again.
"Of course. My name is Zofya Fiaich Turovska," I offered her my hand and she shook it softly, with all the care in the world. "I'm Polish. I mean, Polish-Irish-British, but I live in Warsaw, Poland."
"It's an honor to meet you, Lady Turovska," the man beamed. "You are saving us tonight. There are some guests we need to impress."
I chuckled, "I'm one of them, but you will be impressing me if you let me do this for you."
Their eyes widened, "What do you mean, one of them?"
I turned to her, "I'm one of the billionaires who are staying in here," I winked at her. "But don't worry, I want to help you out. Besides, I have my skills for a reason, they need to be used in such a moment, no? So, can you let me play bartender tonight?"
"Of course," they gasped together.
"Alright then," I walked back inside and behind the bar, looking around what they have in here. "What can I get you?" I asked Elena, playing while talking in French.
Her eyes widened, "What are you doing there?"
"I'll be your bartender tonight," I winked. "I'm pretty good at, I'm the designated cocktail maker of all of my families parties and holidays at our villa. I've been doing it even before I could drink alcohol. So, I heard they were needing someone who's a master in cocktails because theirs got into an accident, and I offered myself up."
"You are insane!"
"Maybe I am, but at least I'm hot!" I grinned.
"Oh, that you are, pretty girl," a sun-kissed model-ish slim girl with buzzed hair, all in Prada, looking to be in 20s, sat in front of the bar with five other people who look to be her siblings and all around their 20s too, all guys. "What's your name?" She asked also in French.
Putting a flirty grin on, I turned to her, "Zofya, and yours?"
"I'm Nicolette Couvreur," she purred. "These are my older brothers and they are quintuplets. Paulin, Achille, Henri, Remi, and Edgar Couvreur. 27, and I'm 23."
"Seems like your beauty runs in the family, but you took the most out of it, because you are really gorgeous," I winked at her. "Now, what can I get you and your brothers, darling?" I then pointed the menu to them.
"A Duchess for me, pretty girl," she leaned closer, flashing me a bit of her mid-sized cleavage and the tattoo she has in the middle of them. "For Paulin and Henri it'll be two Death in the Afternoon, a Neptune's Wrath for Achille, a Original Sin for Remi, and a Remember the Maine for Edgar!"
"The best of the absinthe night then. I'll be right back, darling," I winked and turned around to make their cocktails.
For the Duchess is red vermouth, dry vermouth, absinthe, ice water and orange bitters. For Death in the Afternoon is absinthe, sugar syrup, and brut champagne. For Neptune's Wrath is dry gin, absinthe, lemon juice, sugar syrup, an egg white, and Green Chartreuse. For the Original Sin it's absinthe, vodka, sake, and honey syrup. And for the Remember the Maine is absinthe, ice water, rye whiskey, bourbon whiskey, red vermouth, and cherry Brandy liqueur.
When I turned to give them their drinks, there were an older couple all in Giorgio Armani and Chanel, both already silver-haired and white.
"Here, darling," I handed it Nicolette's and then her siblings'. "If you desire another drink, after this one, tell me and I'll make it!" Then I turned to the couple, "Good night, sweethearts, what can I get you?" I gave them the menu, "Whatever you want I can make it for you," I said it in English, because again, I don't know their languages.
"What a lovely and pretty young lady," the woman said with a soft smile, in Russian, then she switched to English. "It'll be a Corpse Reviver No. 2 for me, and a White Russian for my husband."
"Thank you for the compliment," I switched to Russian and both of them seemed surprised in a delightful way. "I'll be right back with your drinks," smiling, I turned around to make it for them.
For the Corpse Reviver No. 2, it's London Dry gin and Lillet Blanc, orange liqueur, and lemon juice in a absinthe-rinsed glass. While for the White Russian it's just three ingredients, vodka, Kahlúa, and heavy cream. Easy peasy, done in a minute.
"There you go, sweethearts," I turned to them again, "your Corpse Reviver No. 2 and your White Russian," I handed them their drinks. "If there's anything else you need, just call me and I get it for you!"
"Guys, let's get some cocktails with me," a pale skinned girl with long wavy hair died platinum blonde, big doe baby blue eyes, a curvy but slim body with small boobs and thick thighs, walked towards the bar all dressed in a pink Versace dress from the Barbie line by Dua Lipa, with really high hot pink platform sandals from Prada, hot pink nails and pink makeup, with a pink iPhone in hand, streaming something, talking in Greek.
Totally the opposite of me. It's like Barbie came to life.
"Oh my God, the bartender is so gorgeous," she turned the camera to me and I posed and winked at her, "damn, my bisexuality is screaming right now. Ah, the redheads are something else. Damn." Then she walked towards the bar and sat down, gawking at me. "Hi, I'm Pandora Mantzari," she beamed, switching to American English. "I hope you don't mind, I'm an influencer from Greece and everyone asked me to make a live tonight."
"Not a problem with me at all, sweetheart," I told her, in Greek and her cheeks blushed hard. "I'm Zofya, and it'll be my pleasure to help you out tonight on whatever drink you feel like having," I handed her the menu.
"You speak Greek?" She beamed.
"I do, yes," I leaned closer.
Licking her pink lips, she sucked on her cheek, smiling like an idiot who has a crush, "Are from Switzerland? You are so pretty."
"Thank you, sweetheart, it's your eyes. And no, I'm not from here. I'm from Poland. Though, if you want to know my nationality, it's Polish-Irish-British, daughter of a British mother with an Irish father, in Poland."
"Oh? You do look Irish, with the ginger hair and the green eyes. I always thought ginger women had an extra charm to them," she flirted and I could help smiling at it. "I'm 24, Greek-Italian, my mom is Italian. Since when are you working here?"
I tilted my head softly, "Since less than an hour ago. I don't really work here, though," I chuckled. "I'm filling in because their bartender had an accident, so, I kind of eavesdropped them freaking out and offered my help, since I've always been amazing at cocktails and I know how to make all they have in here. I'm also a guest, but for tonight, I'm on duty!"
Her eyes widened, "That explain why you look so fancy."
"Well, we are in Switzerland, right?" I chuckled softly.
"What's your surname?" The old woman I served the drink before asked, in English and I turned to her.
"Fiaich Turovska, I got my dad's two last names. Irish-Polish."
"And the British one?" This time it was Nicolette who seemed to be paying extra attention to us. "What's your mother's name?"
"Reid-Novak," I purred. "British-Polish. I'm not really close to that side of the family, though. Or to my mom, for the matter, even though we supposedly live in the same place. But yeah, Reid-Novak Fiaich Turovska."
"Reid-Novak?" Another guest came closer, speaking English. Not American but British English. A white tall woman in her 30s, with short straight black hair, and an East Asian appearance, might be japanese. "I know them, they are a billionaire family from London, which of them is your mom?"
Oh? "Eleonora. Eleonora Katalina Reid-Novak."
Her eyes widened softly, "I know your mom, she was married to a billionaire ginger Polish man who worked with construction and owned a whole ton of real estates, no? Jacek, who passed away in an accident about 7 years ago? I knew them both, and their friend, Krystian."
A nod, "Jacek Leachlainn Fiaich Turovska, my dad. And Krystian in my uncle. I mean, not blood-related, but my uncle regardless. It's quite the surprise to find someone who knows them in here, what's your name?"
"Keira Kuroyanagi," she purred. "I've heard that they had one kid together in Poland, a girl, but I never met you. You are really gorgeous."
"Thank you, very much. So are you," I winked. "So, that aside, tell me what drink I can make for you. You too, Pandora."
"You are a billionaire?" She squeak in shock, eyes wide.
"Yes," I chuckled.
"Aren't you 17? I thought their kid was a teen," Keira blinked and both Nicolette and her brothers, Pandora, and the older couple gasped.
"Nope. I'm 16," I chuckled. "I'll turn 17 on the day after tomorrow. But I'm emancipated, so, relax, I'm an adult. And I'm in my second year of college, studying Architecture already, so, also not in school. I'm safe."
"You are 16?" The others and Keira gasped.
I nodded, "I am, yes. So," I grinned, "what can I get you?"
"Oh my God, you're 16!" Pandora and Nicolette cried.
"I'm an adult, girls, relax. Not a minor," then I turned to Pandora again. "If you don't know what to ask, I could recommend you something. I have three drinks in mind that kind of suit you." I handed the menu of cocktails to Keira, "Ask whatever you desire, I'll get it for you, I know how to make all the drinks in the menu."
"Sixteen," Pandora cried again. "I'm so sad. Are you single?"
"No," I giggled softly. "I'm not. My boyfriend is older than me."
"Lucky bastard," Nicolette and her siblings gasped.
"Ah, I'm so sad," Pandora pouted again. "What is he?"
"Nationality wise?" A nod. "British-Polish-Spanish. Now, now, will you choose or do you want me to choose for you, sweetheart?"
"You choose for me," she licked let lips. "Anything you desire."