Page 18 of Shortcake
“Kk?” Keith repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”
Enzo shrugged, but I rolled my eyes at both of them. “It’s what the kids are saying now instead of okay or k… it’s cutesy. Like, kk!”
Keith’s face twisted, even more confused than before I had started to explain.
I waved him away. “That’s not the part to focus on. The guy she’s texting, I should call him, right? He’s probably a new boyfriend? Or her brother maybe?” Granted, my brothers have never in their lives called me sweetie, but maybe we have a more cynical relationship than most?
Keith gave me a weird look. “It’s got to be a boyfriend. I wouldn’t be caught dead calling my sistersweetie.”
Yeah. My thoughts exactly.
“Her dad, maybe?” I offered. “Some people call their parents by their first names.”
Enzo shrugged. “Regardless of his relationship to her you’ve got to call him. If his shift is over at two, he’s going to get home in thirty minutes and freak out that she’s not there. Especially since she said she’d be home all night.”
I groaned. As a reformed party girl myself, I felt bad ratting her out. I’d definitely had my fair share of nights where I told my brothers I’d be home, only to sneak out the window to meet up at the lake with a case of beer and a boy to make out with. Granted, that was back in high school. Once I turned eighteen, there wasn’t any need to sneak out.
But maybe Stephanie lived in a stricter household than I did.
Either way, my friends were right. I had to call him. For all I knew she needed to go to the hospital. Have her stomach pumped. Or God forbid, she could be diabetic or something worse that could happen through the night if I took her home with me.
I tapped on Conrad’s name and waited as the phone rang.
He picked up in two rings. “Hey, sweetie, it’s late. Are you okay?”
I cleared my throat. Awareness zipped through my body at the sound of his voice. It was familiar in a way that I couldn’t quite place. “Hey, am I speaking with Conrad?”
The line went silent for a breath. “Yes. What’s going on? Why do you have my daughter’s phone?”
Daughter. Great. In some ways, though, that was better than releasing her into the hands of a friend or a boyfriend. He would most certainly have her best interests at heart.
“First of all, Stephanie is fine. I’m sitting with her now—”
“Stephanie?” he snapped. “Who the hell is Stephanie?”
“Um… your daughter? Stephanie…” I reached for her ID that was still spilled out on the table with her other belongings. “Harris.”
“Stephanie Harris,” he repeated. “My niece?”
“Um… I guess. You’re in Maple Grove with her, right? Girl with dyed blonde hair? Blue eyes?”
He sighed and I could hear the weariness in his voice. “Dammit. How much trouble isStephaniein?”
“Well, she’s had a bit too much to drink.” I stole a quick glance at Stephanie, still passed out on one of my bistro tables. A little bit of drool escaped her parted lips. “Maybe a lot too much to drink,” I added. “To be honest, I’m shocked she’s this black out drunk. I only served her three drinks and she barely touched the third.”
“Three drinks.Three.” He inhaled sharply, but didn’t say anything more. I could hear shuffling around on the other line. Clattering items. A car starting.
I cleared my throat as Enzo mouthed,What’s going on?
I covered the receiver and whispered back to her, “I think he’s in shock or something.”
“Again,” I said into the phone, “I just want to reiterate that she’s safe. I’ve got her. I can either drop her off at home or I can wait here for someone to get her—”
“I’m on my way,” he said, his tone gruff and short.
“Um, okay. Well, we’re at a bar called Shortcakes. 5 Main Street in Maple Grove—”
“I know where you are,” he said, then didn’t wait for my response to end the call.
