She gasps, offended. “You bite your tongue! Bite it clean off.”

We laugh as Bruno rings the bell by the window. “Order up!” he shouts pointedly. “Stop your yakking and serve food, ladies.”

The three of us approach the window.

“Sorry, Bruno,” Tish says. “We were just?—”

“Karaoke night, I heard.” He slaps the bell again. “Food.”

“You wanna tag along?” Mika teases him.

“No.”

Mika grabs a plate and leaves to deliver it to the Sheriff’s table while Tish and I linger at the window.

“What do you do on weekends, Bruno?” Tish asks.

“Nothing,” he spits.

“Oh, come on,” she teases. “You got a girlfriend?” Her brow arches. “A boyfriend?”

He ignores her. “One of you needs to unload the shipment in the back.”

“Not it!” Tish shouts, volunteering me instead.

I deflate. “But I have tables.”

“So do I!”

“Lottie,” Bruno grunts. “You’re on shipment. Tish, you cover her tables.”

“Wha—” Tish pouts. “Fine.”

I chuckle teasingly at her before pushing open the door to the back. There are boxes stacked in a line between the alleyway exit and the storeroom and I sigh at the state of my work cut out for me.

I crack my knuckles and get to work, grabbing the first box of napkins and taking them into the storeroom.

“Lottie.”

I yelp in surprise, fear clenching every nerve as a hand slaps over my mouth. Something sharp digs into my side as the warm stench of booze fills the air by my head.

“Don’t scream,” Mark growls. “Or I’ll slit your throat.”

“Mark?” I tremble, too scared to move. “Hold on.”

“Shut up.”

“Lottie?” Mika calls out from the back room. “You okay? I heard something fall over.”

“Get rid of her,” Mark says, pushing the sharp edge deeper into my side as he lowers his hand from my mouth.

I wince, feeling it breaking skin. “I’m fine!” I shout. “Just dropped some napkins.”

“Okay. Scott’s here, by the way!”

Mark twists the knife a little. I instinctively lurch away from it, but he moves his hand to my throat, warning me to stay put.

“Okay!” I say.