Night Shift (Book 1, the Night Shift series)

Chapter Twenty-six

Yes, definitely.

Daniel shook the keychain again.

Without a doubt.

"Damn," he whispered.

Signs point to yes.

He closed his eyes, made a fist around the ball, and then repeated the same question. "Should I go to the airport?" He slowly uncurled each finger.

My sources say no.

"If you say so." The exercise was moot. Daniel had given Mr. Oliver his official resignation, agreeing to work two more weeks of night shifts. He reasoned there was too much unfinished business going on inside Willard's to leave immediately; besides, he still hadn't found his wallet.

He sat on the edge of the hotel bed. The tiny bottles were gone, the bathroom mirror had been wiped clean, and the soiled towels were replaced with pristine, perfectly folded ones. Everything about the other night had been erased—except one thing. His phone stared back at him from the charger.

He dialed Monique's number before he could chicken out.

"Oh my God!" she answered, sounding slightly clogged. "You're still alive!"

"Hey." Daniel cringed at his lame reply.

"I was sure you'd left for good, but then Sean told me you worked last night. The guys were so pissed! Gavin would have won almost two grand if you'd quit." She paused to sneeze. "Sorry. Anyway, I'm glad you called. You really had me worried."

Is this how a girl talked to you after you'd slept with her? He was totally clueless about how to respond. The only thing that kept him from hanging up was that she didn't sound upset. He chose to focus on her last words. "You were worried?" he asked.

"You came out of the store all slobbering and stuff. I was ready to take you to the hospital, but you kept talking about getting back to your hotel. So—"

"—so you made sure I got up to my room." He closed his eyes, seeing bits of his memory resurface, playing out like a movie. He remembered snippets now—Monique didn't leave in the cab, she had the driver pull over to the curb and wait.

"Your eyes were darting all over the place," she continued. "You were completely paranoid. I thought you and Mr. Oliver were doing drugs in the security office or something. I even said that to snap you out of your creepy coma, but you didn't think it was very funny. I opened one of those little rum drinks, hoping you'd calm down."

Daniel heard her blow her nose in the background. "Anyway," she said, "you were in no shape to go anywhere, let alone the airport. You know what happens to suspicious-looking guys at the airport, right? I totally saved you from a gross body search. So, I hid your wallet while you kept yourself busy practically drinking half the minibar."

Daniel tensed up. "I don't remember very much."

"I'm not surprised," she said. "You're a cheap drunk. Most of the booze spilled down your shirt." She lowered her voice to a playful whisper. "I had to help undress you."

A knot tightened in his chest. "Um...I don't—" He stammered. "I mean, that night's still pretty much a blank for me." He prayed she would figure out what he was hinting at.

"Hey, when I left your pants were still on. If anything else happened, I wasn't a part of it!" She laughed, triggering a coughing fit.

Daniel looked at the ceiling and silently thanked God. In his old life, he would have been thrilled to have a girlfriend like Monique. But things were so complicated now...plus, he wanted to remember his first time. "I definitely owe you," he said when she came back on the line.