Page 100 of With a Little Luck

I snort.254

“Is the universe playing a practical joke on me right now?”

It is decidedly so.

“It certainly feels that way.” I lower the Magic 8 Ball into my lap, lips pursed together. It really does feel like some unseen power is toying with me. But … “Why me?”

I look down.

Sigh.

Give it one last shake.

It seems to take it a long time, as if the Magic 8 Ball is thinking. Then, finally, the little triangle appears out of the blue.

Ask again later.

I let out a guttural groan and flop back on the covers. “The dice never talked back to me,” I mutter, feebly tossing the Magic 8 Ball onto the floor.

It lands with a sickening, squishythud. My whole body flinches. Then I let out a pathetic noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, as I cover my face with my hands. I don’t need to look to know that I just flattened Araceli the Magnificent. So much for my luck taking a turn for the better.

255

Chapter Thirty-Three

“You sounded great tonight,” I say, in a tone that is totallyfriendly and casual and in no way gives away the fact that I spent most of this open mic night wondering what would happen if I pulled Ari into the back room, and—

“Thank you,” Ari says, beaming at me as we stack the chairs against the wall. “We had some fun performers tonight. I thought that guy who was playing his own acoustic blues songs was fantastic.”

“Yeah. He was great,” I say, even though I barely heard any other performances all night.

“You’rekiddingme,” comes my dad’s voice from the back room—more than a little irritated, which is unusual for him, and therefore extra disconcerting.

Ari and I exchange a look. The store closed ten minutes ago, and only the three of us are left.

“Dad?” I call. “Everything okay?”

He emerges a second later, pulling a frustrated hand through his hair. “I just got a notice that our shipment for Record Store Day has been delayed. Hundreds of records—the ones you ordered? The special promotions that are the entire point of Record Store Day?” He raises his hands in exasperation. “Stuck in a warehouse. They haven’t even been sent out yet. They’re saying they won’t deliver for another two weeks!”

My heart drops. The records thatIordered.

Of course they would be delayed.256

“Crap. I’m sorry, Dad.”

He stands massaging his brow with one hand, the other planted on his hip, stress wafting off his body in waves. “Not your fault, obviously.”

I swallow hard.

“You’d think they’d have their act together. It’s only the biggest sales day of the year!” He looks around at the store, shaking his head. “What are we going to do? If we don’t have any special promos going on, what’s the point of participating this year?”

“It’s still a great day to show people how important we are to the community,” says Ari. “A locally owned business that supports the artist community … that’s not nothing.”

I smirk at Ari. “You’ve been spending too much time with Pru.”

Dad sighs. “I know you’re right. It’s not …pointless. We can still hope for a good turnout, and increased sales. But it’s so frustrating. I’d drive to the warehouse and pick up the shipment myself if they’d let me!”

“We still have a week,” I say. “Maybe something will change. Or we can come up with something else to make the day special. Get customers excited.”

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