Warming Trend by Karin Kallmaker Page B

scratched behind his ears.
    She petted the furry head and looked north at the boiling green and gold lights. The pink had already faded for the night. Nature’s fireworks would be over in just a few more hours and she wasn’t going to linger any longer, reluctantly realizing, once again, that since Ani had left she’d gone back to dull girl Eve. She knew how to laugh, she knew how to have fun. Life was a good table wine, basic and reliable. She allowed a brief relapse into bitterness. Thanks to Ani, she knew that wasn’t all there could be.
    She brushed her teeth and slipped into an old T-shirt and equally soft sleep pants. New restaurant, old business finally closed…it was time to live again. She snuggled into bed with the familiar sound of Tonk similarly settling down. When she closed her eyes the northern lights played across her mental sky, and in the distance she could still hear music, and part of her was still dancing, round and round.

Chapter 3
    “Two Conch Indies, four lime margaritas, Stoli on the rocks and an Amaretto with orange juice.” Lisa leaned wearily into the bar. “One more hour. I’m so tired, but I swear it’ll be worse to go outside. Maybe we can sleep here.”
    “Tempting, isn’t it? I’m all but sleeping in the bathtub with the fan blowing on me.” A heat wave had hit the already muggy summer, and the last two days had been scorching. Ani’s own nightly bathtub soaks were the only way she was getting decent sleep.
    “I’m envious. All I have is a not-so-effective shower. I must have rinsed off six times last night. I’m glad to be working here right now, even if the freezer units are having a hard time keeping the tables right.”
    As welcome as the cold temperatures were in the club, this environment was artificial far too dry, and the ice varied too much in texture day-to-day to feel like anything but the inside of a freezer. The tourists loved it, and so did some of the locals, but that didn’t make it like home. Ani wasn’t sure she really remembered what cold meant. She was about to express her opinion of the weather with a choice expletive when a table on the far side of the dance floor crashed onto its side. Ani peered toward the incident it took quite a hit to move one of these tables. There didn’t seem to be a fight, so she locked the register and went to help the ice groomer.
    Halfway across the long room she realized that the ice under her feet was too soft. The tables were too shiny several had some standing water on their surface. Crap . That meant the freezer units were off, and more tables were going to topple as guests started losing their footing. Visions of lawsuits danced in her head. At least there wasn’t the risk of broken glass. It wasn’t just novelty that made them use nothing but barware made from ice, it was practicality. Broken glass on ice floors was invisible, and the floors couldn’t be vacuumed, they were groomed with something like a small Zamboni.
    The bouncer, who wore the same kind of cleated boots that Ani preferred, began lending an arm to patrons as they cleared the club. Tabs underway were forgiven, and tokens to waive the cover charge for another night were handed out. The main doors were opened to let out the crowd more quickly, but the rush of sweltering humid air only added to the dripping walls and slippery floors.
    “Okay, kids,” the assistant manager announced, holding to a pole to keep from falling. “We have a major meltdown in two units. I already had my orders from the kahunas at corporate that next time it happened to go ahead and replace them with the more efficient models. Plus we’re going to do a complete melt and clean out, refloor the dance area and redecorate.”
    “How long is that going to take?” Lisa was wringing her hands.
    “Ten days to two weeks. Sorry nothing I can do about it. We’re an ice bar and we got no ice.”
    Ani heaved a stoic sigh. They’d had an outage last year that had lasted a week.