Night Shift (Book 1, the Night Shift series)

Chapter Sixteen

The golden arrow stopped at the number four. The chandeliers were turned down low. The stillness of the room gave Daniel an uneasy feeling. He took Mr. Oliver's plate to the kitchen and placed it in the sink. Everything was clean and tidy—like the others had never been there.

The song was so soft that Daniel wasn't sure if he was hearing anything. He peeked through the kitchen door and saw Mary playing the piano near the back of the restaurant. He carefully walked around the booths, watching her hands move effortlessly over the keys, never missing a note.

She looked up, surprised to see him. "Oh," she said, her hands frozen in midair.

"Hey, don't stop," he said.

She held his stare for a few beats, then wiped her palms on her cutoffs before she started the song again.

"What's it called?" Daniel asked, standing against the piano.

"'Gymnopedie No.1.'"

He was disappointed his presence did nothing to interfere with her performance. She was playing perfectly. It was a stark contrast to his own nervous pulse. "I wonder if you're better than me at everything?" he teased, trying to get her attention.

She considered his comment for a moment, then said, "You just have to practice. Have you been to the Music Room, yet? The Steinway is gorgeous to play on. You should try it."

"Maybe a duet sometime?"

"Ask your Magic 8 Ball."

"I don't have it with me."

Mary stopped playing. "Liar," she said, sliding down the bench to make a space for him. Daniel took his place beside her, aware of how close she allowed him. Their thighs brushed together. She showed him the chords for the left hand while she played the melody.

"Not bad," she praised after a few minutes.

"It's simple, but really pretty," he said, concentrating on the keys. "Unlike the title, 'Jim No Pees.' Is it about some old guy who can't go to the bathroom?"

"'Gymnopedie,'" she laughed. "I think it means, dance."

"Like you don't know for sure," he said. When they finished, he pulled the keychain out of his pocket.

She looked triumphant at catching him in a lie. "I'm worried about your unhealthy dependency," she said. "When was the last time you made a decision without using that thing?"

Daniel let it roll in his palm; it felt comfortable there. "I've had it for seven years," he told her, "but I only really started using it when I began travelling."

"Seven years!" Mary gently took it from him. "How much did it cost?"

"Um, fifty cents, I think. It came from one of those treat machines in the grocery store. I was hoping for the Rubik's Cube."

"I'm really good at Rubik's Cube."

"Of course you are."

She inspected it closely. "Why didn't you keep trying for the Rubik's Cube? Fifty cents isn't much."

Daniel's stomach dropped. His hands gripped the edge of the piano bench. "My mom didn't have any more change in her purse. And we...and I never went back. It didn't seem important." He took the keychain from her and placed it on the piano. "It was the last thing she ever gave me."

There was a gap of silence.

"Earlier," Mary began, "when we were talking about the notebook—"