Welldark B1 Ch. 06

There were certain types of clothes that elevated the beauty of women. Lingerie was an obvious example, hiding so little and emphasizing it through contrast (or, if particularly saucy in design, framing beautiful bits with lace). Another lovable contender were skin-tight clothes, be it latex or swimsuits. Although less naughty, I also loved dresses, particularly ball dresses, with a high amount of style but little fashion. Fashion was temporary and often designed for the spirit of the time. Style was eternal and much more fundamental.

Lastly, there were uniforms. It pleased the spirit of most humanoids to see a matching set of something and clothes were no exception. An overarching design theme sticking to a person always looked nice. Not all uniforms were created equal, however. There was a certain appeal to a soldier's outfit, but on its own the sex appeal was rather low. A bunny girl outfit ranked much higher.

Like many hot-blooded men, my favourite set of clothes to see on a woman, out of all categories, was the maid outfit. Black and white joined as frills, lace, stockings and plain cloth through careful stitches into one of the many variants. A well made maid uniform was the ultimate marriage between style, practicality and history, signalling both a long line of traditions and a serving attitude. Clearly, the maid outfit was the outfit of choice for the significant other of any cultured male.

Therefore, seeing Esther dressed as a maid was my personal (if temporary) heaven.

It all started with the shoes. Normally she aimed for footwear that was purely practical. For the sake of the outfit, she was now in high heels. Their black colour harmonized wonderfully with the equally black stockings. Through the fabric, I could barely make out the nakedness of her long legs.

The upper rim of the stockings disappeared under a dark skirt. White embroidery, outlining the shapes of flowers, decorated the rim. The skirt was neither scandalously short nor was it prudently long, striking a classy, yet tantalizing, medium.

A white waist band was secured behind her back with a neat ribbon, and from the front dangled a small apron. The top of the outfit was primarily black, sitting over a white blouse like a corset. That blouse was only truly revealed around the chest, where the pale was stretched out by her sizable chest. A wonderful amount of cleavage was created from that relative tightness, framed by short frills. The sleeves were short and tight, leaving the smooth skin of her arm visible.

Sadly, my carefree indulgence in the visual feast came to an end when I arrived at her face. As gorgeous as she was, as cute as the decorative headband made her ponytail, she still seemed displeased to see me enter..

I didn't even try to act like I was surprised to see her there. "These look really good on you, my lady," I complimented and received a long stare in response. Noteworthy was that her pupils didn't narrow, neither did her eyes go from amber to sulfuric yellow. While she obviously was feeling something negative towards my presence, it was not wrath. My personal guess fell on shocked surprise.

"Why are you here?" she asked straight out of the door. Perhaps given where I was standing right now, in the entrance of a servant cafe, it was more appropriate to say that she asked this of me straight at the door. Either way, I had to hold back the cheeky remark that this wasn't an appropriate way to talk to a customer. I wasn't there for the service anyway.

Before I could decide on how to properly answer, we were approached by an elderly gentleman.

"Welcome to the Café Served," he said in a smooth voice. He wore a butler's outfit, much in the same aesthetic. His shoes were polished, the black pants cut perfectly and his vest had those two dangly bits at the back whose purpose eluded me but which looked good nonetheless. Underneath, he wore a white shirt. His buttons were made orderly and a black bow tie sat on his collar. He was the complete package of an elderly noble butler, sporting a trimmed moustache, hair that was combed until it sat flat on the head and a monocle on his left eye. "I am Allister, owner of this fine establishment, at your service. Please excuse any rudeness of our new employee, we are working her in."

"No, no, we know each other," I waved off, not wanting to get Esther into any trouble. "Getting a bit direct with me is perfectly okay."

"Oh, that is a pleasant surprise... that makes you the first understandable exception all morning!" The butler was downright ecstatic about this. It was obvious that this gentleman was here to look over the newcomers' shoulder. From the sound of things, Esther needed the schooling in the communication department. "Do you wish to get a table?"

"No, I am actually here because of that," I gestured at a 'Help Wanted' sign that was sitting behind the large window next to the entrance. Karona's intel had included the cafe hiring, so I had come here already determined to apply.

The way the butler looked at me changed following that announcement. Analysing me as a potential worker was a whole different beast than as a potential customer, after all.

Welldark made sure that the necessities of most of the students were met, courtesy of the provided housing and monthly allowances. In a world where the basis of existence was guaranteed, certain sectors of the economy profited immensely. Entertainment and services were among the top two. This servant café, where maids and butlers took and fulfilled the orders, fell a little bit under both categories.

Café Served was a middle-sized restaurant. It stretched over two floors and a cellar containing a bar. While the main restaurant was open every day (except Sunday) from 7-23 o'clock, the bar only opened on Friday, Saturday, and for hosted events. I could glean that much information just from looking around and reading what was written on info boards.

The ground level was quite charming. Light blue and grey tiles covered the floor. The couches and chairs were of a pleasant beige, the former surrounding black tables in a simple U-shape. In one corner of the room, there was an enclosure for animals, a miniature petting zoo of some description. Potted plants were scattered about, keeping things from feeling empty.

There wasn't a lot of privacy, courtesy of the lack of space. It definitely was a moderately successful, family-owned restaurant.

I liked it. It was clean, the atmosphere seemed relaxed and, from what I had heard, it rarely got crowded. The broad walkways and simple layout meant that it would always be easy to move around. My primary motivations for coming had been to put some pressure on Esther and simultaneously fix my money situation. That the place had every advantage of a small-time business made the decision easier to justify.

Allister was still inspecting me. He was scanning me not just to gauge my character, but also my marketability. Being a servant cafe, this place pandered primarily to the desire of men and women to see the opposite sex in attractive clothing. The fantasy of being actually served as a master seemed less important in this establishment. Regardless, I had to be at least moderately good looking and well behaved.

I put on my most charming smile and Allister nodded.

"I see," the owner said, slowly, glancing over to Esther. She had regained her typical stern look, but her annoyance with the situation was very much written into her behaviour. With her arms crossed, she stood there, her left heel causing a staccato by repeatedly tapping on the tiled floor. Both were actions that broke the proper conduct of a diligent maid. I could imagine that she was hired more for the stern housekeeper role though. "Let's talk about this in my office," Allister decided to take this to somewhere more private. "Esther, please be on your best behaviour."

The lady of my desires forcefully relaxed, letting her arms dangle and ceasing the jittering of her legs. "Certainly, head-butler," she responded, addressing him more like a soldier would their officer than as an employee would their direct superior. Even as we walked away and another newcomer stepped into the entrance, I caught her looking after me.

From the entrance extended a straight walkway. To the left of it was the customer area I had already described, to the right was a wall with a number of doors. The first one led to the kitchen, evident by the noises coming from behind it. the second and third to the toilets, the signs made clear which one was for which sex. The fourth door, Allister entered. A little further ahead, a winding staircase led up to the second floor. This wasn't the time to explore, so I followed my potential boss.

We didn't immediately enter his office. Rather, the door opened to the employee area. The difference to the main restaurant was, unsurprisingly, quite stark. It was quieter, almost silent. I heard some chatter and a coffee machine brewing a fresh pot. In passing, I saw the cramped breakroom, barely able to contain more than the table and the small kitchen in it. I had a quick look at the two people taking a break, but we passed by the empty door frame too quickly for me to make out any details. All I managed to do was give them a quick wave. They reciprocated the gesture.

Allister turned left in the hallway and stopped before another door. A security panel hung next to it and he quickly punched a code in. From that simple thing, I could tell that he was a normal human. A security option utilizing Astral Capacity analysis was universally superior to an electronic lock. Nobody who would have had the chance to use one over the other would have passed it.

The door unlocked with an audible click and Allister entered the climatized office. "Come in, sit down," he said, circling around his desk and pointing at a simple chair in front of it. The colour scheme here was in line with a proper business environment, dark brown and blue. Mild disorder and imperfections in the way things were set up took any sort of corporate feeling right out of it. "Do you actually know Esther or are you some sort of stalker?" he opened up with an incredibly direct question.

"I do know her. If I was a stalker, I would be both incredibly good and awful at the lifestyle, at least when it comes to chasing her," I joked and got myself a minorly amused smile. Because of the kind of establishment he was running, he probably had to deal with creeps every now and again. I respected that he was direct about things. To show this, I extended my hand, "I go by Karitas. Karitas Desia, if you need a last name. I don't particularly like to use it though."

Allister reached over the table and shook my hand. "Glad to meet you, Karitas," he said, continuing on with the honest approach. "If you aren't a stalker, would you do me the favour of telling me what sort of relationship you two have?"

"Sure," I nodded and quickly recounted the events of the last one and a half weeks, keeping things as professional as I could. "We met during the introduction ceremony. She took the challenge for the privilege of a mansion and I then challenged her for the same privilege. We both were granted a residence for our first year of stay, but she decided to come live with me out of curiosity. Since then, I have been trying, and succeeding in many ways, to get closer to her. A few days ago, we had a fight over how I handle my money. Because of this, she wants to pay back what I spent on her. Because she refused to tell me how, I got the information elsewhere. Once I learned about this place, I decided to try working here as well. It would allow me to remain close to her and I need the extra cash anyway, because I do have a problem handling my money. That's about it."

"Ah," Allister's dry voice summarized my situation in two words, "young love."

"Essentially," I agreed in a suave tone and leaned back in my chair.

"Well, I just needed to know whether your relationship could cause any trouble for my business or for her. Provided I let you work here," Allister hummed to himself and took out his monocle to polish it with a cloth that had been lying on the table. The glass had been spotless, he clearly did it just to aid him in thinking.

It occurred to me that his best bet, should he hire me, was to give us vastly different work hours. Whether Esther and I worked out was a thing he couldn't be certain about whatsoever. Nasty breakups were nothing new and to protect the workplace from any ensuing drama, keeping us from ever meeting during business hours was the most practical way to go about things.

It would be inconvenient, if he decided to do this. While I formulated my pleas, Allister put his monocle to the side and pulled a piece of paper from one of his drawers. He inspected it, then placed it in front of me. It was the work schedule for the entire week, showing exactly who worked when and which hours were regular versus irregular. My eyes were quickly drawn to the brackets Esther occupied, but I also noticed a general shortness of staff.

"Honestly, I need to hire whoever I can get," Allister confessed. "Every year around this time is a struggle. People graduate and leave empty spots and new students roll in. This usually balances out after two or three months, but freshmen don't go searching for jobs until they realize that the first paycheck isn't enough to cover everything they want."

"I guess people realize how little money they have to spare for things that aren't food," I commented, mostly to signal that I was listening.

The owner shrugged and nodded at the same time. "Whatever the reason is, doesn't matter much to me. Fact is that I'm down more hands this year than usual. I can run the shop with my core staff, but an extra pair of hands will ease the burden a lot. The way I do things is that you side-jobbers come here three days a week, for segments of 6 to 10 hours. By the end of the week, you are expected to have worked about 20 hours. As it stands right now," he tapped on the dreadfully empty schedule, "you can pick whatever hours you want. If you want to earn extra money, I pay a bonus if you work Saturday evenings at the bar. If you bartend, you also get to keep most of the tips. In this establishment, we toss everything together and split at the end of the evening."

The transparency of the conditions and the choices he gave me eliminated my fears completely. Looking at the schedule again, I worked out which brackets Esther occupied. Monday noon to evening, Thursday early morning, and the mentioned Saturday evening. It was tempting to sign up for the exact same times, but there were a few obstacles. On Monday, I had Music class during those hours. While Thursday morning was theoretically possible, I could not be trusted to wake up early enough to be there at 6 o'clock every week. Saturday I would have preferred to keep clear of any responsibilities. I was willing to make that minor sacrifice, however.

"This would be the contract," Allister said and slid another paper over the smooth table. Before he lifted his hand from it, he added, "I'll be completely clear here: I need your help for this first month, optimally for Saturday. Beyond that, if it turns out that you are bothering Esther or your relationship with her goes south and that impacts work, I throw you out immediately. Understood?"

"Absolutely," I responded with a firm nod. None of this was a surprise or unreasonable. He took his hand off the contract and I gave it a quick read. It all seemed rather standard. I just had to put my name, student identification and preferred work hours in the right places and things were clear. "Can I give this some thought?" I requested. There was the potential to reschedule my Monday somewhat and I also wanted to talk to Esther again before I made my ultimate decision.

"By all means," Allister said, while putting the schedule back into the drawer. "Get the contract back to me by the end of the day, then you can start working this Saturday." He gave me a long look, giving me an opportunity to reject that notion. I didn't. "There'll be a storm of freshmen that day and you'll be far from the only one who doesn't know how to moderate an allowance. Especially when they are a few drinks in. There'll be quite a few tips. I'll also pay you upfront for that day, to show my appreciation for the short term help."

Which also meant that my money problems for this month would be alleviated quite a bit. "Can I just throw it into your mailbox if I only find time by the evening?" I asked, folding the contract so it would fit better into my bag. Allister nodded and that was that. I thanked him for his time, he put his monocle back on and both of us returned to the customer area.

_________________________________

I stayed in the Cafe Served. It was a slow morning, which meant there were few people there and that service would arrive quickly. Since I hadn't had breakfast yet, I decided I might as well have it here. Unsurprisingly, it was Esther herself who eventually came to take my order. As she approached, I acted as if I was reading the contract again. Something solely for her benefit, as it brought her up to speed without us exchanging a single word.

"What is your intent behind this?" she asked upfront.

"For the moment, I desire breakfast," I hummed back. "I would appreciate one of the freshly baked croissants, with a side of chocolate cream and a black tea. Also, some scrambled eggs."

She put all of this into the electronic ordering device she was carrying, while also continuing to question me. "You know what I ask," her softly accented voice had a cutting undertone. I couldn't help but find her ability to work efficiently in spite of her emotions oddly adorable. "Do not play this coy game with me, annoying Karitas."

That was a new adjective. I took the advice and did not push her any further. "Alright, alright. I decided to get an extra income. Me not having money problems means I can buy you things without you getting angry, right?"

"And you knew I was going to be here?"

"I knew you were also working here, you being here at this hour was honestly a lucky coincidence," I answered. It wasn't completely true. I had seen that her shoes were missing early in the morning and made my assumptions. However, I planned to go regardless and she could have also gone elsewhere.

If she hadn't been there, I would have been just as upfront with the owner about my intentions. The only thing that would have, likely, changed would be that we would first meet here during shared work hours.

Esther put the ordering device back into a pocket in the apron. Then she stared at me for a little while. I could see that she was ordering her words and waited for her to speak them out loud. "Karitas," she started, pulling her shoulders back. She made herself as tall as she could. "I do not appreciate actions like this. Issues in your spending habits that are caused by me should not be solved by you forcing yourself to work. I do not approve of this..."

"Esther," I interrupted when she took a breath. "Why didn't we just talk about this?" I turned in my seat to face her with my entire body. "Look, I get it, I am not perfect. I am happy to have that established. And, to be clear, neither are you." Esther's shoulders sank down a little bit at that statement, but I continued. "If you don't communicate with me about these things, I won't have any idea what pisses you off until it's too late. I can accept that you get incredibly cranky when you're hungry and I appreciate that you worry about my finances. However, right now, the foremost thing I want is to be with you. If you get angry with me, I want you to talk to me, instead of storming off and trying to solve everything yourself. I want to be better. I want to improve myself. For me, certainly, but also for you. I hope you can do the same for me."