Last Call at the Nightshade Lounge Read Online Free PDF

’ S SEXIEST FLORIST mug.
    “That’s been out for a while,” her dad said helpfully. “Hope you don’t mind room temperature.”
    The only way the stone-cold coffee could have been
room temperature
was if the room in question had been a meat locker, but Bailey chugged it like it was a healing elixir.
    “What’s wrong, Bailey?” Her mom, an accountant, had an irritatingly sharp eye for detail. Bailey turned and struggled to remember what a normal facial expression looked like.
    “Nothing,” she croaked, clearing her throat. “Um, nothing. Just … hungry?”
    Her mom looked unconvinced. Her dad looked at the fridge.
    “Plenty of leftovers in there, Beetle,” he said. “Help yourself.”
    “Did you even
call
Jess yesterday?”
    “
Mom
.” Bailey pulled a container of lasagna out of the fridge, even though her stomach felt like a concrete brick.
    Her dad grinned. “Our girl just probably had a rough night.”
    You have no idea
, Bailey thought. “No, no,” she said, aiming for chipper but missing. “Just a late one. You know how bars get at closing time.” They didn’t, of course. Hell, after last night, even Bailey barely understood what happened after hours. Her parents exchanged a look as she forced a smile. “I’m fine, you guys. You don’t need to interrogate me.”
    “We know, Beetle,” her dad said.
    “It’s not an interrogation,” said her mom. “We just want to make sure
you’re
happy and not”—she paused before deciding on the proper word—“settling.”
    “I’m not,” Bailey said, surprised by her own certainty. “Bartending’s just … a job.”
    “That’s right,” her mom said. “A job, not a career. You didn’t go to business school just to sling drinks and up the death toll of Chicago’s brain-cell community.” She cracked a smile and Bailey’sdad chuckled, but Bailey gritted her teeth.
    “I
know
, Mom,” she said. “And I’m working on it.”
    “So you
did
talk to Jess.”
    “Yes,” Bailey said, a bit too slowly. “But I’m, ah, waiting for her to call me back.”
    It wasn’t technically a lie.
    “Well, don’t wait too long,” her mother said with a crisp nod. “That position sounds like a dream job for you.”
    “A dream job with dental benefits,” her dad added.
    “She’ll call me when she calls me.” Bailey slammed the microwave door with more force than necessary. “I’ve kinda got a lot on my mind right now, okay?”
    To Bailey’s immense relief, the doorbell rang in the front hall. “I’ll get it,” said her dad. “Dearest Laura?”
    “Yes, dearest Sandy?”
    “You’re still on top of me.”
    “Oh. So I am.”
    While her parents disentangled themselves and her dad lumbered out, Bailey stared intently at the lasagna revolving in the microwave and tried to get a grip. She was exhausted,
and
she was supposed to go in for a shift.
    No. Ugh, no. She gave her pounding head a little shake. She’d definitely call in sick, and maybe for the next shift, too. Call Jess back, she decided. Figure out if she, Bailey, was crazy or just … crazy. And then find a way to let Zane know that maybe working a night job wasn’t the best thing right now. That what she really needed was to take a step back and get some—
    “Well, good morning, Zane!” her dad practically sang from the front hall.
    —distance.
    “Hi, Mr. Chen,” Zane said. “Can Bailey come out to play?”
    “Yes.” Bailey jogged down the hallway and pushed her dad outof the way. With a rattle, the front door slammed behind her, leaving her alone with Zane on the porch. She started in on her half-formed lie. “So, Zane, I think I’m sick and—”
    “Sick?” Zane said. “Or you’re recovering from an attack last night?”
    “—shouldn’t be working if I’m coming down with—” Bailey froze. “What?”
    Zane, who had traded last night’s gray suit for a black one, looked over Bailey’s mismatched PJ situation like he was trying to figure out the best joke