Kill All Happies by Rachel Cohn

Author:Rachel Cohn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2017-04-19T04:00:00+00:00

“General Navarro reporting for service,” I announced to Jake as I stepped inside the Command Central that was the Chug Bug.

The line for beers was about twenty-five people deep, but Jake kept it moving swiftly, handing beers and taking money while talking to me. “Business is going too well. I’m going to be out of beer within the hour. Can you man the post here while I go down the road to Al’s Wine ’n’ Donuts to restock the supply? Shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes, unless there’s a line for lottery tickets.”

I said, “There shouldn’t be a line. Bev Happie gets Death Valley Psychic News text alerts when the Powerball jackpots get big, and she would have told me so I could play, too.”

I looked at Jake’s money box below the counter, stuffed high with twenties, tens, fives, and ones. Who needed the lottery with these earnings? Jake had plenty of cash now to resupply the beer to last through the night, and then some. He saw me eyeing the cash box, and then his foot lifted and latched around my ankle for a nice game of footsie. “Do you?” Jake asked.

“Do I what?”

Jake paused his beer transaction to look me squarely in the face, lift an eyebrow, and say, “Play.” He handed a beer over to his customer, and then moved that cold hand to graze my warm behind.

“I play,” I murmured.

“Great,” said Jake. “Then play ale wench while I’m gone.” He gave my rear a gentle slap with one hand, tipped his fedora at me with the other, and then placed his hat onto the counter so he could make both his hands into a heart shape on his chest. He leaned closer to whisper in my ear, “This was your best idea, ale wench. I’m forever grateful.”

The heat was sweltering and I really owed Bev Happie an apology, because she and the Death Valley Psychic News were right. Oh yes, there would be some earthquakes happening here before the night ended. The hottest kind.

Jake returned his fedora to his head and pointed to a stack of index cards on the counter, next to an empty glass goldfish bowl with a few index cards placed inside. Jake said, “Encourage people to fill out the comment cards while I’m gone, would you? Gotta know what’s working about the Chug Bug and what’s not.” He exited the beer truck, got into his mom’s SUV, and took off.

I quickly typed a text to Lindsay before I resumed beer service to the next customer. Will you still love me even if I’m the dumbest dumbslut in San Francisco?

She responded immediately. I’ll love you even more. But the competition for that title in this city is pretty fierce, so bring your best work ethic.

Aye, captain, I answered, determined to have my fun now. Thinking about where Jake and I would have our after-party made me acutely aware that in a week, I’d be living in a cramped group house of dirt-broke

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