Mall Out of Luck Read online

  Mall Out of Luck

  At the Mall Holiday Standalone Novella

  Sarah Robinson

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Subscribe to Sarah’s Newsletter!

  Excerpt from Mall I Want for Christmas is You

  Chapter 1

  Excerpt from Misadventures in the Cage

  Chapter 1

  About the Author

  Also by Sarah Robinson

  Chapter One

  Nell

  Did you see this?

  Nell James read the text message that popped up on her phone followed by a link to a local blog article. Her best friend, Mara Hart, spent way too much time on social media and was always the first one to send her breaking news—or post cute Instagram pictures of her and her husband Val doing cute, romantic things around town. Not that Nell wasn't happy for her—she was—but with Valentine's Day only a few weeks behind her, it had become painfully obvious how single she still was.

  She pulled the impact goggles off her face and placed them next to the beaker she'd just been working with before scanning the article attached to the link.

  Throwback Jack’s Under New Ownership—Launch on March 17, 2022.

  What! Nell texted Mara back immediately upon seeing the title. TJ closed?

  She'd been going to Throwback Jack’s for over five years now and was part of a local darts league that always practiced there. Being a vaccine scientist during the day meant that she needed time to unwind in the evening and on weekends, and playing darts with other thirty-year-olds in a recreational league had been a big source of that for her lately. Her current efforts at her job on the Sandfly Fever Sicilian Virus vaccine project were at a standstill, and she'd been going out after work more often than ever before.

  Not that she was about to advertise that to her colleagues or invite them to join her.

  Being a woman in the field of STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) was hard enough, but being a former-foster-child, current-lesbian in STEM? The misogyny deck had been stacked against her from day one. She'd had to prove herself twice as competent as the men on her team just to earn the same level of respect—and even that still meant she'd get the occasional ask to be a doll and grab me a coffee, won't you?

  Ugh. The reminder made her stomach lurch with patriarchal resentment. She made a mental note to call her adopted brother, Dash—also a former-foster kid—and tell him about the latest office antics with Mr. Staffi down the hall from her where he'd formally written human resources to complain about free tampons in the women's room and nothing free in the men's room. Dash lived on the other side of the country with his little, happy family now, but he still knew how to throw in a well-timed joke that made her feel better when she was feeling ragey towards “the man.”

  Despite those obstacles in her career path, she'd managed to work her way up to one of the top positions in her organization and was a leading researcher on this current vaccine project. Simply put, she was proud of all she'd accomplished.

  No, they're open now. Mara responded to her previous text message. The soft start was yesterday, I guess. Big launch on St. Patty's Day. We should go! I bet Val can close the store for a day or get someone to cover. You can be our third wheel!

  Nell frowned but felt a little relief that at least the bar was still open—only to have that quickly disappear at the thought of being yet another third wheel to her friend’s happy love story. She wondered why she hadn't heard anything from the darts league, and if that meant that things were changing for the upcoming Pot O' Gold St. Patrick’s Day tournament that Throwback Jack’s used to host every year.

  Maybe I should go tonight and find out? She clicked back onto the link and read the article further.

  It's no secret that Throwback Jack’s has been struggling over the last few years to appeal to a younger audience, so when news came that ownership had changed, no one here at Michigan Mishigas was surprised. But when we learned who the new owner was though? Things became interesting, to say the least.

  Saoirse (pronounced Sur-Sha) Walsh hails from a town of less than five hundred people in Nebraska—and she's already left three of them at the altar. Now she's come to Yule Heights, Michigan with plans to launch a bar named The Lucky Leprechaun right where Throwback Jack’s used to be. This writer thinks The Unlucky Leprechaun might be a better fitting name at this point!

  She chuckled lightly at the blogger's commentary, though she couldn't imagine the focal point of the piece would feel the same way if she read it. She clicked the photograph included with the article and pulled up a picture of a woman with bright red hair and dark green eyes—almost emerald—standing behind a bar with a big smile on her face that looked like she was ready to take on the world. Too bad there was a cut-out photo in the bottom right that was three different engagement photo shoots—all different partners with Saoirse, including two men and one woman, all obscured to hide the almost-spouses faces for (she assumed) privacy reasons. The caption under the photo read: "I almost do!"

  Man, they're really taking this poor girl's back story and running with it.

  Nell opened up her text messages to Mara again and sent back a quick laughing face emoji. Oh my God, the byline though.

  Right? They don't have high hopes for that place, Mara responded seconds later.

  She's hot though, Nell replied.

  She clicked over to the woman's photo again, examining her a moment longer. She really was beautiful, and there was something freeing about already knowing Saoirse was interested in women before having even met her. It wasn’t that Yule Heights was super conservative, but it was very small. There were maybe four lesbians who lived in this town that were open and out, and maybe twice that number of gay men. If she wanted a date, she had to set her Tinder settings to pretty far out because she'd learned quickly that mucking around in her own town was a recipe for disaster. And she wasn't just saying that because the last woman she dated was a chef at the only fancy restaurant in town and now that place was off limits to her for the rest of time. She already missed their garlic bread.

  "Nell?" Mr. Staffi popped his head in her laboratory door. His nose wrinkled and he squinted his eyes at her. "Is that smell coming from in here?"

  She frowned and sniffed the air. Nothing was striking her as out of the ordinary, and she glanced at the chemicals she was working with—all of which were odorless. "No, not me."

  "You know, you could bring in some deodorizer." Mr. Staffi lifted his nose in the air just enough to be looking down at her—his favorite way of viewing the world. "We don't provide it, but most scientists bring their own if they know they're going to be working with such pungent smells."

  Nell cleared her throat and walked over to the doorway where he was standing. In a loud, exaggerated sound, she sniffed the air. "I don't know, Mr. Staffi. That doesn't smell like my aluminum hydroxide. It does, however, smell like…did you have tuna for lunch, Mr. Staffi?"

  His face tinged a darker shade of his normal red. "Well, yes. I did. But that was yesterday."

  "I think that's it." She pushed back on her heels and crossed her arms over her chest. "You've got the tuna mouth."

  So dark red, his face was nearly purple. "I will have you know that I brush my teeth every night and morning."

  "But did you scrape your tongue?" She used a lighthearted lilt in her voice now, enjoying that she was driving him nuts. Served him right. Dealing with him day in and day out in the office next door was exhausting. "That's what people always forget. The smell is stuck to your tongue. It's the Tuna Tongue. And I'm so sorry to say, but it's not curable."

  His nostrils flared and he rolled his eyes. "I'm reporting this to Human Resources." He turned on his heels and stomped down the hallway. "This office smells."

  Nell stuck her head out the door, watching him walk away and unable to resist one final quip. "Ask for Susie. She has my number on speed dial!"

  She laughed as she walked back into her office and glanced at the clock. It was already well into the evening hours, and she would have been off hours ago if she hadn't become wrapped up in this project she was working on. Oh, well. Now seemed like as good a time as any to call it quits for the day and maybe give this new bar a try on her way home.

  And maybe meet a new woman…

  Chapter Two

  Saoirse

  Saoirse Walsh swiped her phone screen, closing out the article she'd just received a Google Alert on—she needed to disable that notification permanently. Heck, she wasn't sure why she hadn't already. Every time something was posted about her online, it was about one—or all three—of her weddings. Or, more accurately, her almost-weddings. Canceled weddings? Whatever the appropriate terminology, it was her least favorite topic of all time.

  "Boss, do you need these up front?" An older gentleman stuck his head through the swinging door that separated the kitchen and back storage room from the front of the bar. In his surprisingly muscular arms was a rack of glasses that he had, presumably, just washed.

  "Under there, Donner. Thanks.” She pointed to an open slot under the bar where the rack could slide right in. "Hey, do you have any ideas for the launch party? You're from here, right? Maybe there's something the local folks are really into? Some type of giveaway or drink?”

  The man lifted one bushy eyebrow after shoving t
he rack into the bar. He'd told her that he only agreed to take this job because his usual seasonal work lasted from October to December and then he needed to fill the rest of his year. "Do I look like a publicist? Hire someone who knows that kind of stuff. Event planner or whatever. Just leave me in charge of the stock room and kitchen."

  "I met with a public relations manager yesterday who has been really helpful,” she replied. She did trust the manager and felt like she knew what she was doing, but still…she was nervous about the entire thing. This launch had to go perfectly if she wanted her reputation here in town to be anything other than the runaway bride.

  "Hey, I was thinking…” Saoirse paused, tapping an index finger to her lips. “Since you're open to wearing an elf costume part of the year, what about a leprechaun costume?"

  Donner worked as the Head Elf at the Yule Heights Shopping Mall annual mall Santa meet and greet. He was a bit grumpy and definitely not super great with kids, but somehow, they loved him and he was almost more of a hit than Santa was. They flocked to him just because he wanted nothing to do with them, or at least that’s how it seemed. In the bar, however, he took more of a behind-the-scenes approach, which she was fine with because he was so dependable.

  Donner shot her daggers with the expression in his eyes. "Elves are happy, helpful creatures. They don't associate with leprechauns."

  She lifted one brow, an amused smile spilling onto her lips. "And you identify as happy and helpful?"

  "I'm a gosh dang delight," he reminded her, his face still stoic and unmoving—a complete mismatch from the words coming out of his mouth. "Ho ho ho."

  With that, he turned around and headed back into the kitchen, letting the door swing behind him.

  "Wrong holiday!" she called after him.

  St. Patrick's Day was right around the corner, and it had been a scramble to get through closing on the bar and setting up the business license in time to open on such a specific day. It was incredibly important that they didn't miss this holiday, though, given the theme of the entire bar and its name. Thankfully, the establishment that she had purchased was already a fully operating bar at the time, so aside from changing out the hideous and old decor, redoing the branding, and restocking the inventory she wanted, it hadn't been a huge amount of work to reopen.

  Technically, they were open now and had stayed open throughout the transition. She glanced around the main room; a few customers sitting at the high top tables watching a game on the television mounted on the wall. She assumed they were probably regulars of the establishment before she bought it since she hadn't done any major marketing yet about opening. But the push for the grand opening party on St. Patrick's Day was well underway on social media and she had invited every Instagram influencer over twenty-one years old in a thirty-mile radius.

  The front door to the bar opened with a creaking sound, and Saoirse glanced up from the notebook she was writing in. A tall woman with thick, dark purple streaks in her midnight-black hair walked in, paused, and looked around the room.

  As a new owner, Saoirse wanted to ask her what she thought about the changes, but she also couldn't help and notice what the woman was wearing. Her smooth, brown skin shone against the white collared shirt she had on—it was definitely a man's work shirt with a French tuck in the front into a pair of cropped black pants. Bright purple suspenders traveled up her torso from the waistband of her pants and disappeared behind her shoulders, accentuating her shape even in the slightly bulky shirt she was wearing. A few inches of lower legs showed off before black, high-heeled ankle boots ended the entire look.

  The woman's gaze met hers and Saoirse felt her face flame with heat, looking back down at her notebook. How long had she been staring? My gosh, how embarrassing. It wasn’t like she was desperate or anything, but it had been over a year since she’d ended her last engagement a few days before the planned wedding, and she hadn't dated anyone in the time since. She'd been so focused on building a new life, starting fresh, that there really hadn't been time to date even if she’d wanted to.

  Not to mention she hadn’t left her ex on the best of terms, and that was probably still a conversation she needed to have one day.

  "Are you the new owner?" A voice interrupted her thoughts as someone pulled out a bar stool and sat down in front of her.

  She looked up to see the woman she'd been staring at seconds ago. "Yes. I'm Saoirse. Nice to meet you, and thanks for coming in."

  "I've been coming here a long time, so I'm interested to see what you do with the place,” the woman admitted, taking in the changes as she looked around. She seemed pleased with it…or at the very least, not horrified. "I'm Nell, by the way."

  "Can I get you something to drink, Nell?" she asked, putting her pen down on top of the notebook. It rolled off the edge and hit the wooden bar top with a clatter. “Wine? Beer?"

  "Whiskey ginger, neat." Nell placed her cell phone down on the bar top and propped herself up on her elbows.

  Saoirse nodded and quickly went about prepping the drink, completely mindful of the fact that Nell was watching her intensely the entire time. She placed the full glass down in front of her on top of a cocktail napkin. "Anything else? Are you hungry? The kitchen is almost open, so we can get something started for you."

  Nell shook her head. "I'm fine with this for now." She took a sip of the drink, and her eyes closed briefly, as if she was savoring it.

  Saoirse wasn't sure what she was feeling, but something about this woman being so close made her nervous—in a good way. She wanted to impress her or strike up a conversation about something…anything.

  So why was her mind drawing a complete blank on the ability to speak right now?

  "It's great to see a woman owning this place finally," Nell interrupted her anxious thoughts. "I loved TJ's, but it's about time more women owned businesses in this mall. My best friend opened the arcade on the other side a few years back, and she could use the company."

  Saoirse glanced toward the entrance, which spilled out into the Yule Heights Shopping Mall main corridor. There was another entrance on the opposite side of the bar that went directly to the street, but from what she could tell so far, the majority of customers tended to trickle in after shopping, or at the end of a work shift.

  "I've walked past that arcade. It looks fun," she admitted. "Maybe you can ask her to come to the launch on the seventeenth with you? I'd love to get to know the other store owners."

  "Who says I'm coming to the launch?" Nell smirked slightly, her head tilting to the side with a mischievous look. "Or is that an invitation?"

  Saoirse quickly tried to look anywhere but at Nell directly. "Uh, I mean, yeah. Everyone is invited. The more, the merrier, right?"

  Nell nodded, but the smirk stayed put. "I'll tell Mara to come. She's going to want a green beer though."

  Finally, a topic she could talk on without sounding foolish. "We will definitely have that. Themed cocktails, too. Though, I'm still coming up with those."

  "Need any help?" Nell offered as she sipped her drink again. She pushed a lock of purple hair behind her ear. "I have an eye for that kind of thing."

  "Really?" Saoirse raised her brows. "What do you suggest?"

  She looked off into the distance for a moment, her expression seeming deep in thought. When she turned to look back at Saoirse, there was a smile on her face. "Can I come back there?"

  Saoirse cleared her throat, then nodded. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

  Nell looked like a kid in a candy store as she walked behind the bar and started pulling out different bottles. "Where do you keep the limes?"

  She handed her a container full of pre-sliced limes. "What are you making?"

  "I call it the Irish Kiss," Nell revealed as she put the finishing touches on a green-tinted drink on ice. She squeezed the lime slice into it and tossed it in the drink, then stirred it with a small straw. "Here, try it."