Hunting Tess by Kathryn Summers (funny books to read .TXT) 📕

open another peanut shell. “I’m sure Holden has fingers in other pies, hence the man power, but by your numbers I would say he isn’t being so careful about his paranormal enemies. You do get hazards pay, right? If not, I would start requesting it.”

She turns around to the newcomer standing behind us. His silver hair streaked with one white patch and deeply set crowfeet shows the many years he’s lived on this earth. “Alex Holden, I presume?” she questions, hopping up from her seat. “Wonderful. We have some questions.”

This girl is amazing.

I want to burst out laughing at the way she so easily played Holden into appearing. I mean, who wants their dirty laundry aired in public?

Holden keeps an at ease grin resting on his face but his eyes are tight. “I’m afraid you have me mistaken for someone else, young lady. I am a business man, and welcome all customers, but a business man first and foremost. You are welcome to enjoy your time here, but I’ll have to ask you to leave if you’re here for more than entertainment.”

“Yeah that’s not going to work for us,” I say, rising from my seat. A glass is set down behind me and a couple of men peel away from various walls. Several guests notice the growing tension and turn their attention our way. Holden notices the increasing interest, angling around to placate those with listening ears.

Returning his attention forward, his eyes linger on Tess for a fraction of a second too long. “Let’s make a deal. As you may have noticed, tonight is karaoke night. A winner is chosen by the audience when all entries have performed. You participate, and win, then I’ll answer whatever questions you have.”

There’s a chance we could get answers without jumping through his hoops. But doing so would mean beating up anyone under Holden’s pay. It will be better to come back early in the morning before the bar opens.

“Deal,” Tess beams. Before I can contradict her agreeance, Holden stalks off to the back rooms.

“He only offered that deal to keep us here long enough for vampires or other bounty hunters to show up.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t win in the meantime. It’ll make waiting go so much faster.”

“It would be safer to come back later.”

She’s already glancing around the crowded room, now paying close attention to the audience’s response to the current singer. “By that point he’ll have skipped town.”

“Not if we put someone on his trail—"

“Parker,” she says, pausing in her musings, “our best chance is to do this right now.”

“And if vampires show up? What if they attack people?”

“You heard Holden say he is a business man. It wouldn’t be very good for business if his clientele die. Now stop worrying. I’m hoping we’ll be well on our way before anyone shows up.”

The bartender points her in the direction of a woman handing out large stickers with numbers, indicating the karaoke participants.

Coalescing with the crowd, I find an empty seat and ignore the stares from those already at the table. Crossing my arms, I lean back in the chair and wait for this fiasco to be finished.

Sporadic clapping accompanies the last performer, who almost trips off the small stage, only to grow thunderous when a middle-aged woman steps on. Hoots and cheers absorb into the walls as the crowd favorite chooses her song. If I had to guess, I would say this woman wins every week. And Holden knows that. I try to catch Tess’s eye, let her know that we should leave and try again tomorrow, but she ignores my attempt. She’s scanning the crowd, though what she’s looking for is beyond me.

The woman’s dark auburn hair shines against the small spotlight as she sways to the music. Though she has a decent voice, from the reaction of the gentlemen here I assume she relies more on her feminine wiles to clench the victory.

I have to shoo away a waiter twice before the song is finished, the crowd repeating their boisterous applause, but when she leaves the stage remains empty. I suppose no one would want an immediate comparison after that. So of course Tess moves onto the stage, her steps confident as she glances through the list of available songs.

“’I Will Survive’,” Holden announces loudly from outside his office. The song by Gloria Gaynor is the exact same one as the previous performance. He’s really stacking the odds against us. What if she doesn’t know this song? Sure, she listened to the other woman sing it, but a single time does not a winner make.

Tess keeps her expression neutral which is a far cry from my own. At the sound of the running introductory scale she drops the list back onto the table, taking up the microphone with such assurance that the sharp spike of panic burning in my chest quickly runs out of fuel.

The dichotomy between Tess and performing Tess is night and day, and I find myself unable to tear away from her. Where other contenders stayed rooted in their spot, she engages the crowd. Side conversations die off as more customers tune in to the performance, and by the second chorus she’s leading a conga line past my seat. All I can do is stare in amazement.

The bar erupts in deafening applause at her final note where she transforms back into the woman I have grown to know. After a quick smile she places the microphone back on its stand before reentering the floor. Guests nod their approval, raising their drinks in salute as she passes by. We make eye contact and she beams. Everything else melts away as I focus on her. A tight knot grows in my chest with the need to keep her safe.

“So, how did I do?” she questions, accepting a seat one of the men at the table offers her.

I nod my head, too afraid to speak and expose how I really feel before it’s time. Turning our attention