Read Online A Taste of the Nightlife by Sarah Zettel - Free Book Online
Authors: Sarah Zettel
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all the things that needed doing, the world faded to black.
“Charlotte.”
Someone shook my shoulder and removed the pillow covering my face. Consciousness returned at a leisurely pace, giving me plenty of time to notice that my mouth was furry, my hair was in my eyes and my back ached. “Ugh. What time is it?”
“Six a.m.,” said Trish. Both my roommates stood in front of me, Trish in her turquoise sleeping sweats and Jess in her magenta kimono. “You were totally conked out when we got back, so we decided to let you sleep.”
“And you’ve got a text from Chet.” Jessie held up my cell.
“Gimme that!” I snatched the phone away and read: C3: im ok thx 4 cavalry call 2nite. C4
Outside, the horizon was brightening. Chet would already be shutting down for the day.
I put my phone down to reduce the risk of throwing it at something. Jessie picked it up immediately and read my message.
“Hey!”
She just passed the phone to Trish, who also decided she could read my private messages.
“Thank God.” Trish sighed. I grabbed the phone back, switched it off and shoved it into my pocket. Trish had the sense not to remark on this. Instead, she glanced at the clock. “Who needs the bathroom first?”
Jess raised her hand. “I’ve got a brunch party. Eight faces, sixteen hands, and nothing packed.”
“Okay, you’re first.”
I should have known something was up. On those occasions when our schedules converge, we do not ever let Jessie go first in the bathroom. Once, Trish and I clocked her at an average of seventy-five minutes over a two-week interval. We keep the chart, just in case she protests.
“I found this when we got in last night.” Trish reache into the pocket of her bathrobe. “Next to the leftover blood.” She handed me Anatole Sevarin’s business card.
“So . . . he came by.” I tucked the card into my own pocket.
“And you let him in? After you promised . . .”
There was no way I was standing still for one of my roommate’s lectures right now. “If this looks stupid, I’m sorry, but I cannot afford to blow off an influential critic right now.” I also was not going to tell her Sevarin wanted my help finding Pam Maddox, or about the other murders. She’d go through the roof, and Georgie would charge us for the repairs.
“You found a bitten body and now you’re entertaining random vampires. Yes, Charlotte, as a matter of fact it does look stupid.”
I snatched up the nearest bowl and the empty crostini plate and carried them to the kitchen. The water from last night had gone cold and greasy. Plunging my hand in to open the drain woke me up the rest of the way. “You know, you’ll live longer if you quit trying to take care of everybody else.”
“Yeah, I might, but they won’t.”
I started the water up, letting it run over my hands. The place was a total mess, and it was my responsibility. Nobody else was going to clean it up. They had jobs to get to.
Trish pinched the bridge of her nose. “All right,” she said with a sigh. “But no more, okay? Not until your PR rep’s had a chance to work up a decent disaster response for you.”
I shut the water off and promised faithfully, but without looking up. Discovering you really are a liar is no fun at all.
Trish retreated to start the long wait for her turn in the bathroom. I cleaned up the kitchen enough to get the promised frittata in the oven. Trish loved frittata. When she came out dressed in her most sincere black suit, she got the first slice, piping hot and perfect.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Thanks,” she said. “Looks good.”
“If you two were wound any tighter . . .” Jess said, coming up behind us.
“Shut up, Jess.” I handed across her slice. She shrugged and dug in.
Equilibrium restored, my roommates finished breakfast, got their stuff together and set out to catch the E train, leaving me once more alone in our apartment with nowhere to go.
It’s okay. Just like any other Monday. We’re
“Charlotte.”
Someone shook my shoulder and removed the pillow covering my face. Consciousness returned at a leisurely pace, giving me plenty of time to notice that my mouth was furry, my hair was in my eyes and my back ached. “Ugh. What time is it?”
“Six a.m.,” said Trish. Both my roommates stood in front of me, Trish in her turquoise sleeping sweats and Jess in her magenta kimono. “You were totally conked out when we got back, so we decided to let you sleep.”
“And you’ve got a text from Chet.” Jessie held up my cell.
“Gimme that!” I snatched the phone away and read: C3: im ok thx 4 cavalry call 2nite. C4
Outside, the horizon was brightening. Chet would already be shutting down for the day.
I put my phone down to reduce the risk of throwing it at something. Jessie picked it up immediately and read my message.
“Hey!”
She just passed the phone to Trish, who also decided she could read my private messages.
“Thank God.” Trish sighed. I grabbed the phone back, switched it off and shoved it into my pocket. Trish had the sense not to remark on this. Instead, she glanced at the clock. “Who needs the bathroom first?”
Jess raised her hand. “I’ve got a brunch party. Eight faces, sixteen hands, and nothing packed.”
“Okay, you’re first.”
I should have known something was up. On those occasions when our schedules converge, we do not ever let Jessie go first in the bathroom. Once, Trish and I clocked her at an average of seventy-five minutes over a two-week interval. We keep the chart, just in case she protests.
“I found this when we got in last night.” Trish reache into the pocket of her bathrobe. “Next to the leftover blood.” She handed me Anatole Sevarin’s business card.
“So . . . he came by.” I tucked the card into my own pocket.
“And you let him in? After you promised . . .”
There was no way I was standing still for one of my roommate’s lectures right now. “If this looks stupid, I’m sorry, but I cannot afford to blow off an influential critic right now.” I also was not going to tell her Sevarin wanted my help finding Pam Maddox, or about the other murders. She’d go through the roof, and Georgie would charge us for the repairs.
“You found a bitten body and now you’re entertaining random vampires. Yes, Charlotte, as a matter of fact it does look stupid.”
I snatched up the nearest bowl and the empty crostini plate and carried them to the kitchen. The water from last night had gone cold and greasy. Plunging my hand in to open the drain woke me up the rest of the way. “You know, you’ll live longer if you quit trying to take care of everybody else.”
“Yeah, I might, but they won’t.”
I started the water up, letting it run over my hands. The place was a total mess, and it was my responsibility. Nobody else was going to clean it up. They had jobs to get to.
Trish pinched the bridge of her nose. “All right,” she said with a sigh. “But no more, okay? Not until your PR rep’s had a chance to work up a decent disaster response for you.”
I shut the water off and promised faithfully, but without looking up. Discovering you really are a liar is no fun at all.
Trish retreated to start the long wait for her turn in the bathroom. I cleaned up the kitchen enough to get the promised frittata in the oven. Trish loved frittata. When she came out dressed in her most sincere black suit, she got the first slice, piping hot and perfect.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Thanks,” she said. “Looks good.”
“If you two were wound any tighter . . .” Jess said, coming up behind us.
“Shut up, Jess.” I handed across her slice. She shrugged and dug in.
Equilibrium restored, my roommates finished breakfast, got their stuff together and set out to catch the E train, leaving me once more alone in our apartment with nowhere to go.
It’s okay. Just like any other Monday. We’re
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