Page 2 of Made in Malice

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I twist the key in my deadbolt, locking up my apartment before making sure to avoid the super sticky spot to the right of my door. I feel like the stain has gotten bigger in the few months since I’ve lived in the unit. I still find myself looking at the ceiling to make sure there isn’t some dead body up on the third floor slowly decaying and dripping down. Yeah, my mind is a dark place sometimes.

Like a creeper, I look through the dingy glass at the main level of my unit, searching the parking lot. It’s been hours since Virgil left, but you can never be too careful with people who want something from you. When all I see are the same crappy cars I always see, I shake off the dramatics and push the door open so I can make it to the bus stop with only a minute or two to spare. I don’t feel like chatting with the randoms that hang out at the covered bench, and it’s cold as hell outside.

The driver doesn’t even look in my direction when I climb in and take the first available seat toward the front of the bus, but she knows my stop and always lets me off on the corner near the restaurant so I don’t have to backtrack down Michigan Ave, even when I don’t ask her to let me off early. I appreciate her for it.

The ride is short, less than ten minutes, before it’s time for me to get off. “Thanks,” I mumble before waiting for the doors to open and let me out. I’m eager to get into work. The bus smelled like someone crapped their pants, and the frigid, late December air seems to cut through all my layers. At least I know it will be warm inside the restaurant.

“Hey, Nova,” Elijah, one of the other servers, says as I breach the doorway.

“Hey,” I reply, keeping my hands close to my face to blow warm air on my fingers. The thin knit gloves don’t do much to keep me warm, but they are better than nothing. “Been busy?” I question, looking around Bobcat’s, the restaurant I work at. It isn’t packed, but most of the tables are full, so hopefully, that means it’s a good night for tips.

“Meh.” He shrugs noncommittally. I almost ask him what he’s waiting for, since he’s not one to usually stand around, but after another second, he asks, “Want to have a drink later?”

“I’m closing,” I tell him. It’s my way of saying no without saying no. My age wouldn’t be an issue here, but I’m not interested for several reasons.

“I’m here until ten. I could hang out and wait for you to get off,” he replies lightly.

I wasn’t expecting him to say that, so I don’t have a response mapped out. The look of panic on my face must be effective enough to answer for me, because he adds, “It’s no big deal if you have something else going on. I just thought you might want to grab a drink. Maybe we can do it some other time,” he says with a flat smile before walking away.

I groan on the inside. Now I’m going to have to see him for the rest of the night, and I know my embarrassed brain is going to try to come up with some excuse to tell him about why I can’t hang out, but I’ll just end up looking like an idiot and rambling if I try to talk to him. I need to keep my head down and focus on work so I don’t make this awkwardness even worse.

“Why didn’t you just say, ‘Not tonight, maybe another time’?” I mutter to myself while shoving my stuff into one of the back lockers.

“Nova, get your ass on the floor,” Veronica, the night manager, hollers into the back room. I roll my eyes. I’m not even due to start for another ten minutes, and it isn’t like we are swamped.

“Coming,” I yell, giving up on getting the metal door to latch with all my crap loaded inside.

I grab a black half apron from the shelf, wrap the thing around my hips, and tie it in the back. A few of the other girls wrap it around front too, but I can barely make a bow when I do that since my waist is thicker and it looks dumb.

“Where am I?” I ask Nico, one of the bartenders. He’s a hard worker who’s friendly but private, and we get along great.

He doesn’t even look up from his pour to tell me, “You’re with me. There’s a game tonight, and I’m not dealing with Candy’s lazy ass.”

I let out a relieved sigh. The bar is usually the busiest, which means I can avoid Elijah, and being occupied will make the night go faster. “Am I taking over for Veronica?” I scan the booths and tables surrounding the bar, noting a few glasses that need to be filled and a guy who’s just looking around like he’s waiting for something. It’s not hard to tell by his empty plate that he wants the bill.

“Can’t take over when she hasn’t done shit,” he says, leaning closer to keep his words between us.

I imagine Veronica used to work hard at some point—she would have had to in order to become shift manager—but those days are long gone. She only takes tables if we’re short staffed, and even then, she bitches so much, I would rather do twice the work than listen to her complain.

“I’ll check on everyone.” I make a quick round, introducing myself and asking if anyone needs anything, even though I know she’s going to keep most of the tips from this group.

“Veronica, sixty-seven needs to be closed out.” I poke my head into the kitchen, interrupting her conversation with another server.

“Just use my number.” She rolls her eyes as if I’m the one not doing my job, then resumes her chat. I’m not even supposed to know her number, let alone use it, but she does this kind of crap all the time, and it sucks, because it’s a surefire way to keep all the tips.

I let the door swing shut and get the man his bill, not bothering to disturb her for the other customers when I know she will give me the same response. Maybe I’ll get lucky and some of them will leave cash tips.

“Hey,” Elijah says, startling me, even though he kept his voice low.

“Yeah?” I pull my head back and search his face, silently hoping there’s a reason he’s standing so close to me other than to ask why I turned him down for a drink.

“Some older guy asked to be seated in your section. Just thought I would give you a heads-up.”

“Really?” I glance at the lobby area, bouncing my eyes over the group that’s waiting, but I don’t spy anyone familiar.

“Yeah, not a regular that I recognized. It’s some dude in a suit,” he adds.

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