My work here is done. Thea slowly inched away as they began questioning Mikey about the podcast. If Hannah wasn’t interested, he at least had a pretty good chance withsomeoneat the table.
A proud wingwoman, Thea clapped her hands together as though finishing up a hard day’s work and began her search for Bryce again. It was cut short when she stumbled into one of the waitresses holding a tray of crimson cocktails.
“Oh!” Thea lifted her hands to steady herself, but it was too late. She’d walked right into the tray of drinks, and the person holding them. The glasses clattered and sploshed across Thea’s dress, leaving stains of red across the shimmery fabric. To top it off, she was decorated with celery sticks.
“Oh, no!” Two hands patted her down with a napkin, the tray and shattered glasses left abandoned in a puddle on the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s my first shift and —”
But Thea wasn’t listening to the slur of panicked apologies. She recognized the ashy blonde hair and the pink cupid’s bow lips. Recognized the light eyes rising to meet her own.
“Heidi?”
Heidi frowned, and then recognition dawned across her features. “Thea!”
She wasn’t dressed up like the others, though she’d clearly tried to fit in, with a trickle of red lipstick zigzagging down the corner of her mouth.
“Hey!” A surprise laugh bubbled from Thea as she wiped her dress down. It made no difference, except in smudging the stain more. The dress was well and truly ruined.
“Oh, no.” Heidi nibbled her bottom lip as she eyed the mess, swiping celery from her shoulder. “Your dress. I’m so, so sorry. I’m no good at this waitressing thing.”
“No harm done. Here, let me help you.” They crouched together and nearly knocked heads in the process, glasses clinking as they scrambled carefully to pick them up.
“Is your friend here, too?”
“Somewhere.” Thea craned her neck to search for Bryce again, but found her nowhere to be seen. “Knowing her, she probably snuck into a cab and is already at home in her pajamas.”
“Not a party person?”
“Nah. We prefer murder.”
Heidi’s eyes widened in alarm, and Thea’s cheeks burned as she sputtered out a correction.
“I mean horror movies and true crime podcasts, notactualhomicide.”
“Oh.” Heidi chuckled in relief and began weaving her way to the bar. Thea followed her, feeling out of place suddenly. Her dress clung to her stomach, the damp material chafing against her skin. Any sane person would have already been headed for the nearest hand dryer, but clearly Thea was an idiot who didn’t know when a conversation was over.
“Enjoying your first shift?”
Heidi blew a strand of hair from her face. “It’s… challenging. I’m already kinda sick of hearing the same three Michael Jackson songs on repeat.”
“Thriller” was currently blaring now, and a group of drunk, rowdy friends had taken to the tiny dance floor to show off their best approximation of the famous choreography beneath the strobe lights. “Also, I think the fog machine is setting off my allergies.”
“I can keep you company for a while…” Thea suggested with a wry smile. “If you’d like.”
Heidi’s eyes glittered. “I’d like that,” she said.
* * *
Bryce had only been here an hour, and she was already tired; mostly because of her co-worker Peter. He’d spotted her and pulled her aside when Thea was guiding Mikey to Hannah’s table, and she’d lost them both when he insisted on buying her a drink. He hadn’t stopped talking since. Now, she was three Franken-limes down and cotton balls swathed her brain, not made any better by the booming music and rowdy, drunk crowd.
She rested her head in her hand, elbow digging into the bar as Peter swirled his finger around the rim of his glass.
“I’m so glad I bumped into you tonight,” he said. “I had no idea you could be this much fun.”
Bryce tried not to take offense to that, sipping her drink from the straw pressed between her lips. She checked her phone for the umpteenth time that night and found no missed calls or texts. According to the update she’d received from Liv half an hour ago, she and her three friends were watching a movie at home, completely fine. She knew she should stop worrying, that Liv was growing up and Bryce could trust her for one night, but anxiety still roared in her chest at the thought of her alone with her friends, getting up to whatever awful things teenagers got up to.
At Liv’s age, Bryce certainly hadn’t been watching movies on a Friday night, anyway.
“Yeah.”