Chapter 3

Norah

It's like the end of an era.

After tonight, I'll be the last of the original crew. Five years ago, I got a job at a new pub opening up and I've been here ever since.

I'm an Original. That's what they call us. And after tonight, I'll be the only one left.

Bridget met a guy online and moved to Australia, James got fired, Ivy had a kid, Zara went to work for her dad in Miami, Amir finished law school, Cole sells insurance, and now Lauren is leaving too.

She got a job as a data scientist for some huge engineering company. I still don't understand what she's doing even though she explained it a few times.

I'm happy for her, for all of them, but I still can't help feel like I'm being left behind. When did everyone get together and agree to be proper adults? I guess I was off work that day.

"Oh, that's so cute!" Samuel says when I pull out the cake I made for Lauren. We're in the back while she's tending the bar.

"I got candles too," I say as I pull them out of my apron. "One for each year she worked here."

"I can't believe another Original is leaving," Samuel says as I sink five candles into the cake. "You're the only one left. Are you going to leave us too?"

I sigh as I search for my lighter. "No. I'm going nowhere."

I'm a little jealous of these people, moving on and living normal lives with normal hours. Last night, I went to bed at four thirty and slept all day. It would be nice not having to keep the same schedule as a vampire.

It would be nice to have some career prospects and opportunities to look forward to. Something to work towards.

I guess I've fallen into a bit of a rut and Lauren leaving has made me realize it.

"Ready?" I ask when I find my lighter in the pocket of my giant zip-up hoodie. The boss doesn't like it when I wear this sweater, but he's not here so…

Samuel nods and shelters the flame with his hands while I light the candles.

It's a quiet night with only a few tables of people talking and some regulars drinking at the bar. Lauren is doing a crossword puzzle.

"Ready," I whisper as we turn the corner. "Go."

Samuel and I start belting out a song off-key. Everyone stops what they're doing and looks at us. Lauren bursts out laughing.

"Happy last day to you, Happy last day to you…"

The whole bar joins in and Lauren's eyes tear up as we all sing to her as loudly as we can.

"…Happy last day to Lauren, Happy last day to you!"

She smiles sadly at me and then blows out the candles. The whole place cheers.

"You're all getting a piece," Lauren tells them as I put down the cake. Samuel goes into the back to get some plates and a knife. "You're so sweet, Norah. You made this?"

"I did. I can't believe you're leaving."

"Me too," she says as she takes a deep breath. "I'm going to do okay, right?"

"You're going to do amazing!" I tell her, even though I still don't know what she'll be doing. "You're going to be the best data person scientist that company has ever seen!"

She laughs. "We're still going to hang out, aren't we?"

"Of course!" I tell her, even though I know we won't. That's how it always works. Someone leaves the pub and promises that they'll keep in touch, but they leave and I never really hear from them again. I know it will be the same with Lauren, which hurts because she makes working here fun. She's always been my favorite.

But our schedules will be too different. When she's off, I'll be working, and when I'm off, she'll be at work. It just never works.

Corporate schedules and vampire schedules just don't mix.

"I'm going to miss you," I tell her as I pull out the candles, trying not to cry.

"We'll still hang out!"

I don't say anything.

"Norah," she says, piercing me with her eyes. "Are you okay?"

I shrug. "I don't know… It's just… I'm so happy for you. It's just I didn't think I'd be the last one left. Everyone has gone on to all these amazing career opportunities and it feels like I'm just stuck here existing. I'm not working toward anything."

"You have your real estate thing," she says, trying to be upbeat. "That's exciting."

"Yeah." I just want to drop the subject. Why did I even bring it up? We should be celebrating and here I am being a downer.

I shake it out and plaster a smile on my face as Samuel returns with the plates and the knife.

"Strawberry lemonade cake," I say as I take the knife from him. "Your favorite."

Lauren hugs me. "You're so sweet, Norah. Thank you."

I put on a brave face as I massacre my cake, slicing it into dozens of pieces while Lauren walks around and hands them out.

"…yeah, I'm going to be a data scientist…" I overhear her saying to a table of smiling customers.

I have to do something. I have to get out of here.

Maybe I should try to get back into real estate. I took the course, got my realtor license, but then it all fizzled out.

You need tons of money to get started. I needed money for marketing, ads, flyers, and to pay for photos of the houses before you even sell one. And who has money for all that?

I had business cards printed up and I left them in the back of taxi cabs to try and get some clients. Whenever someone had too much to drink and I called them a cab, I would walk them to the taxi and throw a card into the back when they weren't looking. I figured if someone had enough money to pay for a cab, they might need a realtor.

It didn't work. I got exactly zero calls.

And then summer hit, and the bar got busy, and my career as a real estate agent got pushed further and further back until it was so far in my rearview mirror that I couldn't see it anymore.

The front door opens and a drunk guy staggers in. He looks like he's in his late forties or early fifties, probably a divorced dad. You can tell by the bright white New Balance sneakers, cargo shorts, old green Polo shirt with the warped collar, and round belly.

He stumbles over to the bar and sits right in front of me.

"Hello, bleautiful," he says, slurring his words.

"Hi."

"I'll take a beer," he says with his eyes half closed, "and your phone number."

A vile taste hits the back of my throat.

These are my options when it comes to men. Drunks, drunks, and more drunks.

"How about a piece of cake and then you leave?" I say with a forced smile.

"Is it your blirthday?" he says with a hiccup. "How old are you?"

"Old enough to be your daughter," I say with a grin.

"I'll tell you what," he says as he pulls a deck of cards out of his cargo shorts. Why does he have a deck of cards? "If I blow your mind with a magical trick, you give me your number."

I stare at him, more curious than anything.

"Has that ever worked for you?"

He doesn't answer. He pulls out the deck and tries to shuffle, but he's way too drunk. The cards explode out of his hands and rain down on me. A few land on the cake.

"What's going on over here?" Lauren asks as she returns. "Playing fifty-two pick up?"

"Exactly," I say with a laugh. "He's fifty-two and he's trying to pick me up."

We both giggle as we take the cards off the cake.

"Here," Lauren says as she puts a piece of cake in front of him. "Eat up and leave the magic to the professionals."

The guy dives into the cake, making a mess all over his face with the pink frosting.

Where can I find a real man? Not in here, obviously.

I want someone accomplished and driven, but I'm realizing that I can't exactly expect that in a partner if I don't have it myself.

"Don't despair, Norah," Lauren says. She knows me too well. She can see it all over my face. "Things are going to look up for you. I can feel it."

"Yeah," I say, not believing it at all.

She gasps and grabs my wrist.

"What?"

She turns my hand over and pulls a card from the sleeve of my giant hoodie. My sweater is unzipped and hanging loose on my shoulders so a card must have slid into the armhole and fallen down it.

Her face lights up when she shows it to me.

An ace of hearts.

"An ace up your sleeve," she says with her eyes lighting up. "It's a sign."

Lauren is always believing in stuff like that. I never thought that data scientists were the type to obsess over horoscopes, but here we are.

"A sign?"

She's nodding like crazy. "A sign! Good things are about to happen. I told you!"

With a loud inhuman wretching sound, the drunk guy throws up my strawberry lemonade cake all over the bar.

I turn to Lauren with a sigh. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

I'm in a deep sleep when my phone rings obnoxiously loud.

I fly up in bed, confused, disoriented, and annoyed that someone is calling me in the middle of the night.

It's not really the middle of the night though. It's nine-thirty in the morning, but to me, it's deep REM time. I went to bed at five after closing the bar, driving home, taking a shower, and having a snack.

I have blackout curtains in my room, so it's pitch black. I reach for my ringing phone with a groan.

"Hello?" I say, my voice as hoarse and rough as sandpaper.

"Is this Norah Ellison?"

I don't recognize the voice. It's a masculine one. Smooth and deep, but still annoying since he's calling me so damn early.

"I told the other guy last week that I'm going to pay the water bill."

"Norah Ellison the realtor?"

I burst up into a sitting position. Did he just say realtor?

"Oh! Yes! I'm the realtor. Norah Ellison, that's me. Professional realtor at your service. Um. How can I help you?"

My heart is racing. This is my first call and I'm already blowing it.

"I'm looking for a house," the man says, "but I'm new in town and I don't know the area too well. Can you help me?"

"Yes!" I say, nearly having a heart attack. "I'd love to. Um, where are you looking? Oh right, you said you don't know the area too well. Um. And uh, what's your budget?"

Was that too soon to ask? Damn it! I should have asked the number of bedrooms instead. I have to build a rapport before I start talking about money, they told me that in the first class!

"I'd like to start looking in Cedar Hills," he says. "So, let's start there."

Cedar Hills?! That place is crazy expensive. Who is this guy?

"And for my budget," he continues. "My max price is four. But that's my max. I'd like to get something for two nine or low threes."

"Million?"

"Yes."

"And… You have that much money?"

Shit! What are you doing?

He laughs. "Yeah."

"Cool," I say, nodding along. "Good for you. Sure! I can see what's available and set up some viewing times."

"Okay," he says. "I'd like that. Can we meet up tomorrow and start looking at some places?"

"Definitely," I say as I jump out of bed. "I just need your contact info."

I yank open the blackout curtains and get assaulted by the sun.

Ah! My eyes!!

"What's your name?" I ask as I stumble half-blind around the room, looking for something to write with.

"Austin Gambill."

I find a pen and a receipt to a shoe store on the floor. "Austin Gambill," I say as I scribble it down. Shit, does Gambill have one L or two? Doesn't matter.

I take down his number and tell him that I'll call him back later with some options.

"Okay, thanks," he says. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I swallow hard as I hang up the phone.

What. The. Fuck.

I have so much to do. I have to find some listings, make appointments, find a professional-looking outfit, wash my car…

Oh my god. Oh my god!

This is happening. This is actually happening.

The opportunity I've been waiting for.

I just can't screw it up.

Gulp.

I'm totally going to screw it up.