Page 55 of Prime Time Romance

“No,” I answer, knowing exactly what has happened. The all-too-familiar feeling of failure rises up my throat.

This is insane.

It’s like my own personal Groundhog Day.

A living nightmare I keep recalling over and over.

The electric bill.

Sherry implied she was behind on paying it, but I had hoped it was a joke. Her cutting sense of humor. But now I know the bills aren’t getting paid, and if they are cutting the electricity, the water is next. Then the bank comes calling—if they haven’t already. There’s nothing I can do here. I was stupid for even thinking a couple of good nights could turn things around. This place is too far gone to save. It’s—

“Hey.” Brynn’s hand reaches across the bar and pokes me in between my ribs. “Do you know where the fuse box is?”

The fuse box?

“It’s in the storeroom, I think. But that’s not the issue, Brynn, it’s way worse—”

A beam of light flashes up from beneath Brynn’s chin. It illuminates her face from underneath, giving it an eerie orange glow.

“Take this.” She flips the flashlight around and hands it to me. “I have another one in my purse.” As if to back up her point, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a second light. “The storeroom is beside the bathroom, right?”

I open my mouth to tell her I’m probably going to have to shut down for the night. This place is beyond help. But she’s already gone, weaving her way through the crowd toward the storeroom. I have no choice but to follow her bobbing light all the way to the back of the bar.

“In there?” she asks, cutting the beam of her light to the closed storeroom door.

“Yeah, but…” I tell her as she pulls the door open, ignoring me. Her flashlight beam scans the walls until it lands on a small gray box. I follow her over to it and watch as she opens the cover. There are a dozen or so black switches inside. Only one is set in the wrong direction. Brynn reaches out and flicks it with a loud click.

There’s a collective cheer from the bar, followed by the sound of a strumming guitar and Seth’s voice, amplified by the microphone. “I think this calls for a cover of ‘Dancing in the Dark,’ don’t you?”

There’s another cheer as Seth plays the opening notes.

Unlike the bar outside, the storeroom remains dark.

“Crisis averted.” Brynn tucks her light between her arm and rib cage as she uses both her hands to snap the door of the fuse box shut. It closes with a soft click, which is followed by a soft “Oh, sugar” as her light slips out from under her arm, hits the floor with a metallic clunk, and then rolls underneath an aluminum shelving unit filled with cleaning supplies.

I flash my light beam to the spot where we last saw her light. “Here.” I try to hand her my light. “Let me get it.”

“No, I’m good.” She drops to her knees and reaches under the bottom shelf, then retracts her hand quickly, bringing the lost light to her chest.

I reach my hand down to help her up. “Do you always carry multiple flashlights in your purse?”

She takes it and lets me pull her to her feet. Suddenly it feels like there’s a lot less air in here. “I think maybe I should start. Carson’s Cove does seem to love its power outages….”

Her voice trails off, but her hand still lingers in my palm.

The heat of it mingles with the strawberry scent of her shampoo.

She’s so close that I can hear her soft puff of breath as she exhales.

And although we’re standing in the dark, it’s as if a light comes on inside my head and suddenly I’m seeing everything differently.

Brynn visibly shivers and pulls her hand away. “I think I got another shock, just there. You should really do something about the floors.”

I don’t think the floors are the problem.

I shake my head, clearing away the semblance of a thought still rolling around in my mind.

When we get back out to the bar, there is a steady stream of thirsty customers looking to placate their dramatic blackout experience with more beer.