Closing Time

50. (End of Part 1)

"You're lying."

"So, what are you going to do about it?" I replied deadpan, yanking the fridge open to pull the lemons out.

"Don't be rude. It's Christmas."

"Fuck th-" I cut myself off, running a hand over my face. "Yeah. Sorry. It's been a shitty few days."

"You can..." He paused as I heard a pan start sizzling. "... talk to us."

"I know." I can't. I fucking can't. "It's fine. I'm dealing with it."

"Need help?" Another new sentence they'd been using lately.

"Nope." I pulled out a lemon, turning around and borrowing a knife to cut it in half and squeeze the juice out. Sasha walked by, sliding me the honey. I threw him a grateful look before pouring a few spoonfuls in my glass.

He let me stand in the kitchen and drink the hangover lemon juice in peaceful silence. My shift had yet to start, so I was just enjoying the amicable feel of th-

"Ryleigh, there are people asking for you."

I sighed into my glass, raising some bubbles. My bloodshot eyes went to Dottie standing at the kitchen door. "Give me two minutes."

Concern flashed across her grey eyes, but she nodded and turned right back around to leave. The little cotton bobble on her Santa hat was the last thing to leave through the door.

"Bit early for customers, eh?" Sasha spoke up behind me.

I nodded, glancing at my mobile. "Fifteen minutes early."

"You going out there?"

I shrugged, unbothered as I continued to sip my drink. "Fifteen minutes till my shift starts. I'm not going anywhere."

Sasha's deep rumbling laugh echoed around the kitchen. I smiled to myself, closing my eyes and working through my drink. I felt better already. The essences didn't let me throw up, but the nausea was vanishing. And if I closed my eyes, it felt like I was home... apart from Sasha humming his national anthem under his breath, and the banging of pots and pans.

Dottie came by once more to tell me they were getting impatient and to drop off their orders. Out of spite, I decided to do my makeup before heading out which delayed my shift by five minutes.

However, the two men sitting at the bar enjoying brunch and coffee didn't seem to mind the delay. My eyes went over them as theirs roamed over my outfit. Old guy, recently divorced or hiding the fact he's married by the missing tan around his ring finger. Relatively younger guy- actually, middle-aged. Scruffy beard, unkempt, and also dealing with a hangover.

I walked up to them, flashing my customer service smile as I did. "Merry Christmas. And sorry for the delay. It took a while to get ready."

"Understandable." Smirked the middle-aged man, speaking in a tone that showed he thought he was a gift to womankind. "You made good use of that time."

I laughed easily. "Thank you. The bar is open, gentlemen. What can I get you?"

"Information." The older guy mumbled through a burger. My eyes went to his hand as he slid a badge across the counter. Seeing the gold insignia sent a chill down my back. Cops. "I'm Detective McCreedy, and this is Detective Samuels. We're here to check up on some missing persons."

I looked back up, meeting his droopy, eyes. "Do I need to have a lawyer present for this?"

"No."

"I'll call my manager anyway." I took a step to the side and whistled. Dottie immediately looked up. "Dottie, they need you."

She nodded, taking a few moments to scribbled something down before walking over in the same tacky red dress I was wearing. She smiled at the two. "What can I get you two?"