Demon Night

streak. “It’s from a security packet, the kind they use at banks. During a robbery, the teller will stick this in the bag with the cash. When the packet explodes, it marks all of the bills in the bag.”
    They were old-style twenties, with the small portrait of Andrew Jackson. Charlie didn’t get them often, but enough not to bother looking twice when she did. “These were from my drawer? Should I not have taken them?”
    “No, no—I needed to talk to you, but I’m not pulling you in about this. I just thought it was interesting. When they get the guy, the money is taken into evidence—then eventually destroyed, because there’s not much usable left after that packet goes off. But these are in sequential order; they haven’t been in circulation, though their print date was over fifteen years ago. So he’d been caught, just got out, and went back to wherever he’d stashed the money—or had been holding on to it until he thought it safe to spend.” He slid the bills back into her drawer, and his face wrinkled around his grin. “I don’t care if he spends it here, as long as he doesn’t plan on taking any. And I’d bet dollars to donuts he knew just how to distract you.”
    Blood rushed to her face. Old Matthew hadn’t missed the kiss through the one-way. But though he was laughing at her, her embarrassment couldn’t last—and she didn’t let herself acknowledge the disappointment that the kiss hadn’t been about her at all, but a way of getting the marked money into her hand.
    “He was slick,” Charlie agreed. A glance at the one-way confirmed that Ethan didn’t look impatient or bored—only watching the floors being mopped in the lounge, a slight furrow on his brow that told her he probably wasn’t thinking of the nightly cleaning. “What else did you need to talk about?”
    Old Matthew unpinned the schedule from the corkboard behind his desk, flipped it to the second page. “Do you still need the time off next week?”
    “Yes.” A hard little knot formed in her stomach; the semester had been a difficult one. She’d asked for three days to complete a project and study for finals—days that she desperately needed. “I thought Robbie was okay to cover my shift.”
    “He is.” Old Matthew glanced up at her from under his thick brows. “You still planning on using Cole’s as a model for your project?”
    “Yes.”
    “How about you get started early on that? Working back here part of the evenings, helping me with some of the paperwork to give you a better feel for it.”
    The knot unwound, and her smile tugged at her cheek. “Is it the bruise?”
    “Charlie girl, if I wanted ugly up front, I’d have Robbie tending the bar all the time.” Old Matthew’s teeth were very straight and white against his dark skin, and his grin was broad. When her laughter faded, he added, “No. Truth is, I’ve been thinking about this since you first mentioned the classes. I’ve just been too set in my ways to do anything about it yet.”
    “About what?”
    He waved his hand at the mess around his desk. “I’m starting to feel trapped in here with all these numbers, seven days a week, year-round. This wasn’t all that I wanted to be doing when I started her up—and you don’t want to be slinging drinks forever.”
    Once, it hadn’t mattered what “forever” consisted of. Now she knew this wasn’t all she wanted—she just didn’t know what “all” was yet. But she said, “I like working the bar—”
    “Charlie girl, liking isn’t living .” The frown that passed over his face left it looking more careworn than normal when it receded. “You can get comfortable enough in any situation; that doesn’t mean you should accept what you’ve been handed and stay there.”
    “Yeah.” There was no other response to that. “Would this be a permanent thing?”
    “If it suits both of us. ‘Assistant manager’ sounds like a pretty nice title to put on the résumé, whenever you figure out what it is you’re doing after you’re done here. We can work you up to that, and I can start taking off a few nights a week.”
    Uncertainty held her throat tight, and Charlie slipped on her jacket so the silence wouldn’t be so big. He was right, it would be a step forward.
    So why was she hesitating? Was she depending on the comfort of the familiar?
    “All right,” she said with a jerky nod. “We’ll try it out.”
    A look through the one-way made her recognize how long she’d been