of tequila and carried on with my duties, but I couldn’t stop scanning the room. People stood in puddles of blue and gold, but not every corner was lit. The influx of customers should have been enough to distract me, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Houdini. When I turned around, I bumped into Simone and dropped a glass on the floor.
“Dammit. I’m sorry.” I grabbed a dustpan, knelt, and swept up the broken pieces.
“That’s coming out of your paycheck, not mine.” She stepped around me, avoiding the shards. “And if you keep sneaking drinks, you won’t have much of a check left.”
I dumped the glass into a trash can. “What drinks?”
She tilted her head and arched her eyebrows to show she wasn’t playing around. “I do the inventory.”
“Fine.”
Simone offered me her outstretched hand. “Maybe you should go home.”
“And miss out on all the fun?” I took her hand and stood.
Claude approached the bar and rested an arm on it. “I have a table requesting twenty Red Apples.”
Simone looked at him in disbelief. “Which table? Are you sure it was twenty and not two?”
Claude gestured behind him. “That group in the corner by the stairs. And they want twenty.”
She put her hand around the neck of a red bottle and gave them a long appraisal. “Do they have a tab open?”
Claude nodded. “Under Abernathy.”
“What have they ordered so far? Any spiked alcohol?”
“A pitcher of beer.”
“What’s the head count?”
“Ten.”
She tapped her fingernails against the glass. “Flynn!”
A few seconds later, Flynn waltzed up next to Claude and mirrored his position. “Yes, my queen?”
“I’m sending over ten Red Apples to the group at table five. They tried ordering double shots, but I recognize one of them, and he knows better. I want you and Clyde to keep an eye on them. Robin, pull out the shot glasses.”
This sounded interesting. I followed her command. “What’s a Red Apple?”
“Not a trip to New York.” Flynn threw Claude a smoldering look. “Ever been to New York?”
“Once or twice,” Claude replied.
I lined up the glasses while Simone poured.
“If a customer ever asks for a Red Apple, come see me first,” she said. “Don’t have Rena do it. She’s not allowed after the last incident.” Once Simone finished pouring the drinks, she conjured up Sensor magic until her fingertips glowed red. Then she carefully dipped her finger into each glass for the same length of time. “A Red Apple is named after the Garden of Eden story. It’s a highly potent drink that only a few of us can make. It unlocks desires that people have suppressed—sometimes desires they didn’t know they had. This is a premium drink. One hundred dollars per shot.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me.”
“Clyde, as soon as they’re done, clear the table and wipe it down. Wash your hands after handling the glasses, and no more drinks. When a customer orders a Red Apple, we close their tab and cut them off. No exceptions. It’s risky mixing sensory experiences with Red Apple.” She set the glasses on a tray. “Spread the word. Tell the other servers to put their faces to memory. They know the drill. Don’t let anyone at that table order a sensory drink on the sly or accept a drink from someone else. I can’t see everyone from here, so I won’t be able to keep track. They’re your special project for the rest of the night.”
“It’s under control, female,” Claude assured her. He collected the tray and sauntered off.
Flynn looked over his shoulder and gave Claude a long, admiring glance. “I haven’t decided if he looks better coming or going.”
“Going,” Simone answered while screwing the cap on the bottle.
“What makes you say that?”
She set the bottle back on the shelf and adjusted her breasts in her bra. “Because no man ever looks good coming.”
He gave a boisterous laugh and held up an invisible glass. “Cheers.”
A phone rang underneath the bar. One of those old-fashioned phones with a curly cord attached to the receiver.
Without missing a beat, Simone answered. “Yes, sir?”
Flynn grimaced and headed toward Claude’s table. He stopped by a pillar and stood guard while Claude set the drinks down.
“Right away, sir. Is there anything else?” Simone nodded and then hung up the phone.
I reached for two beer mugs.
“I got this.” She took my glasses away. “The boss wants to see you.”
“Why?”
Her eyes widened as she filled the glasses. “I don’t know, but the last girl who went to his office never came back.”