5 Highball Exit Read Online Free Page A

there?”
    “If you’re not jealous, why do you care?”
    Some truly rude comments came to mind. While I sorted through them for the most choice, Clay said, “Look, I didn’t want to upset you.”
    I started to speak but he interrupted. “I know, I know, you couldn’t care less, but still, you and Laura have a little history.”
    “A little history? More like our own civil war, not that it’s ever been very civil.”
    “See what I mean? Just let it go. Laura’s been great. She brought lots of her own stuff and has done a fantastic job. Plus, she’s been helping to wine and dine these guys from the North who are going to save my bacon. And . . .”
    “Stop,” I shouted before he could sing any more of her praises. “She’s so sweet I may throw up.”
    “See, there you go.”
    “You’re right. Here I go.” I hit End and then turned off my cell. It didn’t matter. Clay wouldn’t be calling back. Judging from past conversations like this it might be several days before one of us broke down and called.
    Bugger! I wished I’d gotten some money out of Aunt Kay. Maybe I could talk her into paying half upfront. Then at least, if everything went for a dump, I’d have something. My mind played with the math. I could make a lot of suppliers happy and pay off a little on the mortgage. Maybe if I showed her I was trying I might be able to convince her to hand over a check.
    I called Dan Raines. As I listened to the phone ringing, I worried that if Aunt Kay had time to think about her offer to me she’d change her mind. I should have gotten a check even if it was postdated.
    “Hello,” Shelly Raines said. I stumbled over telling Shelly my name and that I wanted to talk to Dan.
    Dan’s folks still lived in Jacaranda. They’d brought Shelly and Dan into the Sunset just the month before to celebrate Dan’s birthday, but Dan and I hadn’t really seen each other since high school.
    “Dan worked the midnight shift,” she said, easy and friendly and not at all curious why this woman she barely knew would want to come to her house and talk to her husband. “He’s still sleeping. Come by about eight. Dan will be up by then.”

CHAPTER 8
    Gwen Morrison, our hostess, wasn’t the only member of staff who wasn’t available that Sunday night. My bartender also didn’t make it in. It’s pretty sad when even the staff gives up on you, but to be fair there weren’t enough people in the place to make it worth his time.
    I slipped behind the bar and listened to the woes of the few drinkers who did show up. Sometimes I think the only thing that brings customers up in the little elevator is the lure of having someone to talk to when they get to the top. Maybe it’s no more than my blank expression, which they mistake for rapt attention, but people seem to confide in me, to trust me enough to dump all over me. For that privilege they’re willing to buy overpriced alcohol. Recently, though, I’ve thought about getting a sign that says DON’T TELL ME YOUR PROBLEMS OR I’LL BE FORCED TO RECIPROCATE, but I figure it wouldn’t add much to the ambiance.
    And most nights other people’s mistakes and bad decisions make for great entertainment. Not that night. That night a worm of worry was eating its way through my heart. Just the thought of losing Clay made tears well up.
    I slipped into the kitchen to check on Miguel, who was in charge while Isaak was away. Miguel had everything under control. I was about to leave the kitchen when I turned back and asked, “Do you remember a waitress named Holly Mitchell?”
    He didn’t look up from plating an order. “ Si , pretty little thing.” His hand made a round motion in front of his stomach. “Very pregnant last time I see her.” He looked up. “Crazy to think of that one being a mother . . . she may forget to feed it.” He put three finished plates onto the high counter in front of him and hit a pager to summon a waitperson.
    “When was this, when did you see her when