The Night Folk 01 Sable by JL Bryan

Author:JL Bryan [Bryan, JL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J. L. Bryan
Published: 2023-03-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

With help from my phone's GPS, I rushed through my deliveries as quickly as I could, visiting destinations that ranged from a rundown apartment complex on the edge of town to a large waterfront home with a private dock.

A couple of customers yelled at me about how long they'd been waiting. Another one, not so angry, tipped me in cash, so I returned to the pizzeria with freshly earned money in my pocket, though I would need to put it all in my gas tank.

Near the pizzeria, Trent performed in front of a tattoo parlor that had closed for the night. He wore his purple top hat and juggled glow-in-the-dark balls. A very small crowd of pedestrians watched him with varying levels of interest. Several coins had accumulated in the clear take-out cup he'd set out for tips.

Bailey cheered him loudly and threw up devil horns with her hands, like the lone fan at a desolate rock concert. I waved to her, and she waved back, while Trent added a fourth ball to his juggling configuration.

“What took you so long?” my new boss Lou barked when I returned. “We got three more waiting already.”

“I'll take them!” I picked up the boxes.

“No, kid, you don't go yet!” He smacked the tops of the boxes, and I dropped them back on the counter, startled. “First, you check the order sheet, see what's in the pipeline.”

“Sorry, I didn't know.”

“You better learn, or you're never gonna make it.” He slapped a clipboard down in front of me, showing the delivery orders that had been called in. “My smart-aleck nephew tells me we need a website. Forget that hippie nonsense. The phone and the clipboard, that's all we ever needed.”

“Okay.” I looked over the orders.

“What, do you mean, 'okay'? I wasn't looking for your okay on that, Short Stack. I'm telling you what's what.”

I nodded, catching myself before I said “okay” again.

He finally sent me out with more boxes full of tantalizing pizza. I stopped outside to talk with Bailey. She and Trent wanted to hang around downtown until after my shift. “Things are really picking up,” Bailey said. “Someone just put a dollar in Trent's tip jar. How's your job?”

“I think I like it,” I said.

Then I drove back across town, taking hot pizzas to hungry customers. It was a little scary, approaching one strange door after another. Fortunately, no humans or dogs attacked me that night, and I was learning my way around. I noted side streets and alleys that could be useful shortcuts or escape routes.

I pocketed a couple more cash tips from a few more kind souls. My constant anxiety over being broke was beginning to ease.

By ten-thirty, I was done—the Double Dice was open until midnight most nights but closed early on Sunday.

Most of the town had fallen quiet. I took Trent and Bailey home. They'd made a few bucks and spent it on more beer. Trent babbled about his grandma, who'd helped raise him but died a few years earlier.

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