Death Before Decaf Read Online Free Page B

impression on them.” I slapped him on the arm and stood up, steeling myself to go back into the lion’s den. He took me by the shoulders and said gently, “You can do this. Show them the Jules that the rest of us love.”
    Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, it was my turn to make a joke. “What’s not to love about Redheaded She-Devil?” I asked, grinning. I shook my head. “She is so misunderstood.”
    Throwing his arm around my shoulders, Pete laughed and steered me back inside.
    —
    Just like Pete had said, the evening shift workers were starting to trickle in. Everyone was working tonight since it was open mic night, so I got to meet the entire staff. Pete introduced me to the baristas: Brianna, Jamie, and Cole. He then introduced Shane, the barista/cook floater, and Logan, the cook/dishwasher. They all at least smiled and said hello to me, which was an improvement over the day staff, and they also seemed to work pretty efficiently together. Maybe once all of the kinks were worked out, things would be smoother around here. I felt the slightest bit relieved.
    Open mic night was always packed at Java Jive. It gave local musicians, both students and struggling artists, a venue to perform. I couldn’t remember how many times Pete and I had performed here. I missed it so much sometimes it made my heart ache. I’d had a feeling that tonight might be a little rough on me, and I was right.
    Pete stepped up onto the tiny stage and warmly welcomed everyone, just like George always had. It hit me again how painfully empty it felt not having George around, and I couldn’t begin to imagine how it affected Pete. He seemed his usual happy-go-lucky self, though, making note of the “rules” of open mic night (only play one song, don’t play along with someone else’s song, be courteous to the other performers, silence your cellphones, and so on). I thought he was finished, but he shocked me by sitting down at the mic and grabbing a beautiful, new-looking guitar.
    “In honor of my new manager Juliet Langley’s thirtieth birthday, I thought I’d sing a song we wrote together, sitting in this very coffeehouse.” He looked at me and smiled sweetly. “It’s my birthday wish for her that before her next birthday rolls around, she’ll be back up on this stage with me. Happy thirtieth, Jules.”
    The moment he strummed the first chord, I recognized “You Are Mine,” my favorite of the many songs Pete and I had written together. Tears sprang to my eyes as I was overcome with nostalgia and happy memories. Something else was nagging at me, though. Watching Pete up onstage and listening to his familiar, scratchy voice, aware that he was singing
to me
, I felt…jittery inside. That was odd. As he continued singing, my heart started to pound and seemed to expand inside my chest. I tried my damnedest to push the strange feeling aside so I could enjoy the performance. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I was too young to have a heart attack. Wait. I hadn’t eaten today. That was surely all it was.
    Riotous applause shook me out of my thoughts. Pete’s song (which was beautiful, by the way) was finished, and Shane stepped up to the mic to announce the next act.
    Pete bounded off the stage and swept me into a tight hug. I didn’t want him to feel me shaking, so I stepped back and said, “Thanks for the song, Pete. It was fantastic. Best birthday present ever.”
    With a twinkle in his eye, he replied, “Oh, no. The best is yet to come.” Huh? The song was more than enough, but maybe he was giving me a gift card or a blender or something later.
    “Pete!” called a familiar female voice. Coming our way was Cecilia, Pete’s girlfriend. Oh, holy hell. Cecilia and I had never gotten along, and now that she was dating my best friend, I would have to pretend to like her and play nice. Could my day get any worse?
    Pete immediately left me and hurried over to her. Seeing this as my opportunity to escape and go calm my frazzled