Tiff groans as she reads my horoscope. “I think the outside evils are the ones we have to worry about most tonight! I hate working holidays like this. Everyone’s sloppy drunk and forgets to tip. And Mama needs the moolah so I can buy my own candy. Trick or treat myself!” She snaps like that’s already a done deal. It probably is, considering I’ve seen no fewer than three empty bags of candy already littered around the apartment like dead soldiers, PMS-edition.

“I’m not sure Devil’s Night qualifies as an actual holiday. The holiday is Halloween.” Sure, Devil’s Night is total fiction, but some folks do use it as an excuse to get rowdy.

“Pshaw . . . is Christmas Eve a holiday? Yes. It’s the pre-party for Christmas. Devil’s Night is the Halloween pre-party. Ergo, a de facto holiday.” She laughs, a smug look on her face like she actually won that argument.

“Whatever, bitch. You tell yourself what you need to so that you make peace with eating another Snickers bar. Better yet, get a king-size and we’ll split it. We’re gonna need the chocolate to get through the night without getting hangry.”

“Oh, speaking of . . . did I tell you about the video I saw?” Tiff starts, but I put up a staying hand.

“Please, don’t. No overeating videos. No pimple popping, shopping haul, or prank videos either,” I say solemnly before grinning at Tiff’s pout. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Tiff sets her curling iron down on the counter and turns. “All right, shoot. Or do I need to sit down?” Without waiting for an answer, she sits down on the closed toilet in the tiny bathroom we share to get ready.

I give her a nervous smile. “Well. It’s just . . . I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” Tiff asks.

My stomach tightens. I’m sure she’ll be happy for me, but still . . . “I’ve been giving some serious thought into moving in with Scott.”

Tiffany doesn’t look upset, but instead screams and kicks her feet in the air as she pumps her fists. “I knew it! You two-timing whore you!”

I laugh. Tiff’s never short on a loving insult. “He’s mentioned it to me a few times. I know he’s serious, and at first, I just didn’t think I was ready. But I’m starting to feel more comfortable. I didn’t give him an answer yet, but I brought it up this morning and he was buzzing. Like literally, a peacock walking around like my moving in was a win for him!” I say, looking around at our apartment through the open door and mentally comparing it to Scott’s place. It’s not so much the penthouse itself, although it’s nice, obviously. It’s that he’s there.

Tiff purses her lips, crossing her arms. “Moving in together. That’s heavy shit, girl,” she says as a smile breaks out.

“I mean . . . I know you’d be on your own but—”

Tiffany laughs, hugging me. “I knew this would happen!” Tiff raises her head to the sky, as if speaking to the heavens. “Why did I let this girl out? The first taste of dick and she’s ready to abandon me.” She brings her head back down, looking at me. “No way, girl. I’m just kidding. I’m so happy for you. If that’s what makes you happy—if he makes you happy—go for it!”

“Are you sure?” I ask, and Tiffany laughs again.

“Hell yes! Don’t you dare worry about me. You go get you some of that fine ass man of yours—morning, noon, and night, in every room of that penthouse. And tell me all about it and let me live vicariously through you a bit, ‘kay?”

I slap her shoulder. “Well, maybe not all the dirty details, but I’ll say that he’s fucking amazing. His tongue . . . his cock . . .” I trail off, already mentally rehashing half a dozen different encounters. Scott has turned me into a totally horny dirty girl, always ready for him to take me again.

“Ugh, you lucky bitch. I’m so jelly! He got any brothers?” she asks laughingly.

“Yeah, but let’s not go there. For damn sure. You driving tonight? Scott’s picking me up later. I’m sleeping over because tomorrow is his birthday.”

Tiff gawks at me. “Of course his birthday is fucking Halloween. That man is a devil in a suit, and I bet even better in his birthday suit.”

I blush but don’t tell Tiff my birthday breakfast in bed plans . . . especially not the part where Scott is my breakfast.

The drive to Stella’s is filled with giggles and jokes and just an abundance of what makes Tiff and me besties. I’m gonna miss not seeing her every day, but I think I’m ready for this. No, not think. I am ready for this with Scott.

We get to Stella’s and see a full parking lot, the pre-party, as Tiff called it, already in full effect. We sneak in the back to hit the break room for our two-minute last-prep rituals, trying to gear up for a wild, busy night. Stella pokes her head in, already flushed with exertion and hormones. “Hey, girls, hit the floor asap. It’s a madhouse. Oh, and eighty-six onion rings tonight. Daryl hasn’t made the delivery yet, for some reason, so Devin’s doing double-time on fries because they’re the new evening special.”

Stella’s greeting is one long drawl of flustered speech, and then she scoots off, back to the grind. “Well, guess we’d better hit it!” Tiff says with a steadying breath, bracing for the night. We walk out to the floor and she heads straight to a few tables to check in. I head to the bar to take over.

Carl is leaning against the bar, not bothering to move as I take over the station. I can see he hasn’t done jack shit to set up for the busy night. Almost every fruit container is empty and there’s a bar sink full of dirty glasses. I peek over at him, huffing my displeasure. The lazy fucker doesn’t look drunk, but he definitely doesn’t look sober. Surely, he’s not drinking on the job? Stella would have his hide.

“What’s up, Sweet Tits?” he asks, and I turn to face him fully, gawking. Sweet Tits? He’s been an ass before, but never has he called me something like that. Maybe he has been hitting the bottle during his shift.

“I’m gonna pretend that didn’t happen, and you’re never going to say anything like that to me again,” I growl, heading over to clock in. Carl doesn’t seem to catch the message, just rolls his eyes and tosses his apron on the bar for me to clean up, just like everything else.

He grabs a bottle and a glass on his way out, sitting down at his preferred spot at the end of the bar. I shake my head, needing to let whatever shit Carl’s up to tonight go because I’ve got a bar full of customers and Tiff’s already waiting for an order.

I get to work, pouring beers and mixing drinks, running here and there, cutting up the garnishes Carl should’ve done, and generally being a completely badass bartender. Go me! Finally, I catch up and chug a cool glass of Coke to get a little sugar rush for the next crowd.

Hours later, I’m fucking beat, exhausted from the floor up. But Stella looks like hell. She’s been the gracious owner all night, keeping an eye on the rowdiness and helping out where she can. But her usual top-notch bun of red hair is flopping off to one side, and she’s not flushed but tomato-red. “Stella, you okay? Here, let me get you some water,” I tell her, setting the cool liquid down in front of her.

She gulps down a healthy chug before exclaiming, “Holy shit. Tonight was insanely busy! But we did it. Great job, Maddie. Couldn’t have done it without you, girl.”

“No problem, Stella. You know I’ve got your back. Looks like the last few guys are heading out.” I pause to yell out, “Thanks, fellas, come on back!” before turning back to Stella. “I’ll get rolling on cleaning up, and we’ll get out of here.”

“Thanks, sweetie. I think I might have Tiff take me home real quick though, and then she can come back to help . . . if she doesn’t mind. These old bones don’t have any more left in them tonight. And tomorrow is Halloween. Luckily, we don’t usually get too much of a crowd.”

“I know I asked off, but if you need me to come in, I will. You know that,” I say, crossing my fingers behind my back that she doesn’t take me up on the offer, because if she does, I’ll drop my plans and work for Stella. I always do.

“Nah. Of course not. Carl and me got the bar. Need to keep an eye on that boy anyway. Tiff and Devin are both coming in, and I’ve got a new girl shadowing Tiff so she’ll be a spare set of hands. We’ll be fine. Take your vacation day and then your usual weekend off after. Lord knows, you deserve it. Don’t think you’ve ever had three days off in a row, girl.”

She’s right, and I feel a bubble of giddiness swirl up in my chest at the possibilities of three days alone with Scott.

Tiff walks by with a tray of glasses, and Stella calls out, “Honey, can you run me home real quick, please?”

Tiff nods. “Sure, but where’s Carl?”

Stella shakes her head. “He’s sleeping it off in my office. Seems he got a little too celebratory tonight. Again. He’ll just sleep here, so you can lock him in when you leave, Maddie. Okay?”

I nod. “Sure thing. Hey, Tiff . . . just head on home after you take Stella. Devin should be about done in the kitchen, Carl’s . . . well, Carl, and I’m off tomorrow night. I’ll close up.”

Tiff’s face lights up. “Are you sure?” But she’s already shooing Stella toward the door, so I know she’s already agreeing with me.

Once they’re gone, I put on some music and get to cleaning. If I’m gonna be gone tomorrow night, I want this place to be spic-and-span for Stella to start fresh. Tables, check. Dishes, check. Bar stocked, check.

I’m pushing the broom around the floor when I hear a voice over the music. “Islands in the stream. That is what we are.” I giggle, turning to watch Devin’s back-and-forth as he sings both Dolly’s part and Kenny Rogers’s part of the famous song. Getting his laugh, he dissolves into giggles too. “Girl, your musical taste leaves something to be desired. I’m gonna have to school you a bit on more recent musical genius . . . like EDM.”

“No thanks, man. That stuff gives me a headache. Boom-boom-boom. And there are no words! Just the same beat on repeat.” I mimic a loop with my hand.

“How dare you?” he asks, mockingly insulted. “Whatever, bish. I’m outtie . . . if you’re good by yourself?”

I wave him off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Scott will be here soon. I’m just finishing up while I wait for him.”

Devin heads out, and I hear him lock the back door behind him so I get back to the floors. I push the broom around some more, swaying and dancing and singing along as I sweep.

I’m lost in the music and the work until I suddenly sense a presence behind me. I jump, turning to see a red-eyed Carl hovering right behind me. “Jesus Christ, Carl! You scared the shit outta me!”

Carl’s eyes get squinty, like he’s seeing more than one of me and trying to focus on the middle one, hoping it’s the real one. “You’re a real bitch these days, you know that?” he sneers, pointing a thick finger at me.

Great, Carl is a mean drunk tonight. He’s usually chill, maybe a bit depressing, but it must be the Devil’s Night curse. I move away, putting some space between me and the stench of alcohol wafting from his pores. “I’ve always been a bitch, Carl. You just now noticed?”

He stumbles toward me, and out of reflex, I catch him, keeping him from plowing into the floor. “No. You didn’t used to be a bitch. You were quiet, mousy. But now that you got some rich dick, you think you’re better’n us.”

I had been holding Carl up, supporting his much heavier weight with my own, but as he ramps up, the dynamic changes. He presses me against the wall by booth fifteen, his rank breath coating my face like mist. “Carl, you’re drunk and need to go lie down. Now.” I’m scared but keep my voice steely. This is Carl. He’s my friend. Hell, he’s almost family. And I have a moment of hope that he’s going to listen to my bartender boss voice that brooks no argument.

He leans in, nuzzling into my neck, and I think he sniffs me before leaning back to look in my eyes. “I was gonna ask you out when you were ready, but you kept telling everyone you weren’t dating so I waited. Res-resch-respecting what you wanted. But that asshole just comes in here, slamming cash and flashing dick, and you let him lead you out like a fucking puppy. Fuck that and fuck you, Maddie.”

His quiet, lost little boy voice gets louder and louder, turning up my fear level with every decibel. I push against his chest, hoping he’ll lose his footing, stumble, and let me get out of the cage he’s created for me with his bigger frame. But he’s drunk-strong, feeling no pain.

“Yeah, fuck you, Maddie.” And with that declaration, Carl dives for my neck again.

I cry out, truly terrified now and pressing against him with everything I have, no longer holding back. “No, Carl. No. Leave me alone!”

There’s a loud bang on the front door and Carl yells over his shoulder, “We’re closed. Come back later.” But whoever’s knocking doesn’t listen, thank goodness. With one more crashing sound, the door bursts open and Scott stands there. My knight in a custom-made suit. And this time, I’m so fucking glad to see him.

“What the fuck?” Scott yells, but he’s already running across the room, charging at Carl. He lands a punch to Carl’s gut as Carl swings wildly.

“You have fucking everything . . . why her?” Carl roars. Scott answers, but it’s not with words. Instead, he lands one more wallop of a punch to Carl’s jaw, knocking him out clean on the floor.

Scott turns to me instantly. “Are you okay? Oh, my God, Maddie. Did he hurt you?”

I shake my head, burying my face in his dress shirt. I’ve never been a damsel in distress before, and in fact, have argued that fact with the man holding me right now. But in this moment, I want to be the rescued princess because I’m done, stretched to my limit with shock and horror at what just almost happened. ”I’m okay. Just please. I need to get out of here. Get me out of here.”

Scott nods crisply. “Of course. Hang on.” He walks over to Carl, and for a second, I think he’s gonna punch him again, but instead, he rolls his unconscious body to his side, tilting his head so he won’t choke if he pukes. College Drinking 101 in action, I think oddly. But when Scott wraps me back in his arms, puts me in his car, and drives me home, all of my thoughts blank. At some point, I think he gives me a bath because I feel warm water and smell lavender. But all I remember are cool sheets and Scott’s warm body as the darkness takes me and I dream.