Midsummer Night's Mischief Read Online Free PDF Page B

bewildered, staring at the door through which he’d exited stage left. As the seconds ticked by, I realized he wasn’t coming back. And he hadn’t even asked for my number.
    Then the waitress brought a basketful of chicken wings. I scrunched my nose at them and looked at the dollar bills on the table. Not even enough to cover two drinks plus the food.
    Great.
    I was about to go find Farrah, so we could ponder together all the dire scenarios that might possibly have pulled away such a promising guy, when I was startled by a familiar—and unnecessarily loud—voice.
    â€œHey, sexy! What are you doing, sitting here all alone? Buy ya a drink?”
    Good God, it was Jeremy. He stood in front of me with his spiky hair, shining eyes, and a boyishly goofy grin. He held two brimming shot glasses, one in each hand.
    â€œJeremy! Hi. . . . Uh, what are you—”
    He sat down in the seat vacated by Wes and slid a glass toward me, the original intended recipient of the drink apparently forgotten. “Come on, Ms. Milanni. A toast!”
    I sniffed the caramel-colored liquid and smelled hot sweetness. Butterscotch schnapps maybe? I looked at Jeremy and pursed my lips into a reluctant smile. What the heck.
    He winked at me as we raised our glasses. “To Thursday nights,” he said.
    Indeed. I downed the shot and felt the hot bite dissolve into a warmth that slid from my throat to my toes. I had licked my lips and opened my mouth to make some conversation when a crazy-hopping, drum-heavy dance tune filled the club and Jeremy reached for my hands.
    â€œCome on, boss! Let’s dance!”
    And so that was how I found myself—three or more dance songs and at least one slow song later—in a shadowy corner of the club with the Untouchable . . . our arms entwined, our mouths inches apart. We were so close, I could practically taste the cigarettes on his breath, which was actually pretty repulsive. Yet, at the same time, I couldn’t help being drawn to the animal heat radiating from his whole body.
    The shots we kept downing between dances might have had something to do with this predicament.
    I was certainly feeling warm and fuzzy. Even so, I was also aware that he seemed even farther along than me toward complete, sloppy drunkenness. Yet another reason I should extricate myself from this situation at once , I told myself sternly.
    â€œWanna go for a walk?” he whispered.
    â€œSure.”
    He put his arm around my waist and led me toward the door. I let myself be led, doing my best to ignore the devil and the angel duking it out on my shoulders.
    What are you doing?
    Shut up. It’s just a walk!
    The pavement was wet and shimmery under the streetlamps. It must have just stopped raining, and I’d had no idea it even started. For some reason, this bothered me, the fact that it had rained without me knowing about it. We had gone a few steps in the direction of Fieldstone Park when the phone in my purse rang.
    â€œHold on,” I said to Jeremy. The rain-scented air and the absence of noise were clearing my head a bit, and I was glad for the excuse to pause.
    I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
    â€œHello, Ms. Milanni?” It was a woman’s voice, sounding strained.
    Jeremy looked impatient and started to shift from foot to foot.
    â€œYes,” I said. “Who’s this?”
    â€œThis is Darlene Callahan, Eleanor Mostriak’s daughter.”
    â€œI gotta piss,” mouthed Jeremy, turning to head back to the bar.
    I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering why Eleanor’s daughter was calling me at this hour of the night.
    â€œI’m sorry to call you so late, but I felt it was important to let you know.” Darlene paused, and I felt a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. “M-mother passed away this evening. She had a heart attack.”

CHAPTER 4
    I awoke with morning-after remorse like I hadn’t felt in a very long