Night shift 04- Twinkles takes a holiday by Cate Lawley

Author:Cate Lawley [Lawley, Cate]
Language: spa
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

PROLOGUE

I died a little. I wish I could say it was a blur, but it’s a blank. A mystery. I was an anxiety-ridden, overachieving, successful (and perhaps not entirely likable) professional—and human. I definitely started this story very human. But now I’m none of those things.

This story is about the murder of that woman and catching the man who killed her. It’s also about how I became a vampire and also a little about how becoming a vampire was the best thing that could have happened to me.

CHAPTER ONE: The Night I Died a Little

“Mallory, darling, you’re buying tonight, aren’t you?” Liz, with her sleek red hair, high cheekbones, and long legs made my skin itch with jealous annoyance.

How could she even walk in those impossible heels?

“Sure.” I knew she’d ditch her usual drink for a premium, but that was Liz.

Actually, that was the entire work gang: Liz, Shelley, Martin, and Penelope. They invited me when they wanted free drinks, because I picked up the tab when I tagged along. At least, that was my suspicion. I made more money than the rest of them, and they knew it. That created tension.

How was it my fault they couldn’t negotiate their salary better?

I handed the bartender my debit card and pointed to the fearsome foursome to my right, indicating I’d be paying for their round.

The guy was kind of cute in a tight-T-shirt, skinny-jeans, bearded-hipster way, but he didn’t make eye contact. He grabbed my card, swiped it to open my tab, and handed it back to me.

Cute bartender guy didn’t even look up when I gave him my drink order: a white wine spritzer. I might not be five foot nine with killer cheekbones and a glamorous sense of style, but not all of his patrons could look like Liz.

At least he was fast. My drink arrived—after Liz’s, Shelley’s, Martin’s, and Penelope’s—but still pretty quickly. I tried not to sigh.

My suit was expensive and well-tailored, my makeup reasonably fresh, and I was having a good hair day. And—the most important factor— I was picking up the tab.

So what was it that made people like the hipster bartender slip right over me as if I didn’t exist?

Or like I smelled really bad? I discreetly sniffed. No. My supercharged twenty-four-hour antiperspirant was doing its job.

He was just a jerk with a brain that worked significantly less than his biceps—or some other part of his anatomy.

Liz turned to include me in the conversation, so I inched closer. It had to be work related.

Penelope had a self-satisfied smirk on her face. “I was just saying, our new boss plans to fire two people from our division. I heard from a very reliable source. And you know how much they like to clean out inflated salaries whenever the opportunity arises.”

My lips curved slightly. “Or those with the lowest performance evaluations.”

Penelope’s nostrils flared. The spiteful heat of her stare bounced off me with no effect. Again, not my fault that she spent as much time on social media as she did doing client work.

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