Caroline was dead.

Okay, not literally, but she might as well be.

Her skull felt like someone had taken a rolling pin to it and her mouth was drier than a week-old cupcake left out in the sun.

Also… why was she upside down?

Caroline slowly pried open one eye and immediately regretted it. The sunlight streaming through the window felt like a personal attack from God Himself.

Groaning, she tried to sit up and realized something horrifying.

She was not in her bed.

She was on the floor, half tangled in a blanket, one leg flopped over the coffee table, and... wait!

Why was there a half-eaten cookie stuck to her cheek?

The events of last night came rushing back at an alarming speed.

Max.

The tequila.

The existential boob crisis.

The cookies.

The weed.

"Oh, shit."

Caroline shot up so fast she nearly faceplanted into the couch. "Max!" she croaked, looking around wildly.

Max was sprawled out on the couch like a gremlin, an empty plate of cookies balanced on her stomach and a victorious smile on her sleeping face.

Caroline groaned, rubbing her temples. "I hate you so much."

She fumbled around for her phone, still partially convinced she was experiencing an out-of-body hallucination. The moment her fingers found it, she pressed the power button and—

BZZZ. BZZZ. BZZZZZZZZZZ.

Caroline's eyes widened as her phone had what could only be described as a nuclear meltdown.

Fifty.

FIFTY.

Five. Zero.

Missed texts.

Thirty missed calls.

All from one person.

Han.

"Oh, double shit."

Caroline's blood ran cold as she clicked on her messages.

Han [6:30 AM]: Where are you? I told you last night the health inspector is coming today.

Han [6:45 AM]: You're late.

Han [6:55 AM]: I'm gonna fire you.

Han [7:15 AM]: Max isn't answering either. Did you two die?

Han [7:30 AM]: If you're dead, I'm canceling your funeral and spending the money on an espresso machine.

Han [7:35 AM]: Also, the health inspector showed up.

Han [7:36 AM]: REPEAT: THE. HEALTH. INSPECTOR. SHOWED. UP.

Han [7:40 AM]: YOU'RE BOTH SO FIRED.

Han [7:45 AM]: Okay, you're not fired, but I am stress-eating sugar packets and contemplating arson.

Han [7:55 AM]: If you don't show up in the next 20 minutes, I swear on all that is holy, I will replace you with a teenager who still thinks minimum wage is a lot of money.

Han [8:10 AM]: We're doomed.

Han [8:12 AM]: So, so, so doomed.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Han [8:15 AM]: I hope your night was worth it, because this morning is pure, unfiltered hell.

Caroline stared at her screen in horror.

'The health inspector? THE HEALTH INSPECTOR?!'

She scrambled up and started aggressively shaking Max by the shoulder.

"MAX. WAKE UP. WAKE UP, YOU MENACE."

Max let out a groggy groan. "Mmmrgh, five more minutes, Mom..."

"NO. NO MINUTES. WE'RE LATE. THE HEALTH INSPECTOR IS AT THE DINER. HAN IS GOING TO KILL US."

Max blinked one eye open. "…What?"

Caroline grabbed her phone, shook it in front of Max's face, and pointed violently at the texts. "WE OVERSLEPT, MAX. WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE AT WORK HOURS AGO."

Max stared at the phone for a full three seconds.

Then, in the most chillingly calm voice, she whispered:

"…Oh. Shit."

Instant panic.

Max threw the empty cookie plate across the room. Caroline frantically scrambled for pants. Both of them were running around the apartment like headless chickens.

"WHERE ARE MY SHOES?!"

"WHY IS THERE A BANANA IN MY BAG?!"

"WHY DOES MY SHIRT SMELL LIKE TEQUILA AND... ARGG! I HATE YOU MAX."

Somehow, somehow, they managed to throw themselves together in five minutes flat.

Caroline looked in the mirror and winced. "Oh my god. I look like I was hit by a bakery truck and then set on fire."

Max, who was pulling on her hoodie, shrugged. "Honestly? Kinda hot. The 'I-just-committed-a-crime' aesthetic is working for you."

Caroline glared. "Focus."

They sprinted out the door, down the stairs, and into the street, practically throwing themselves into a cab.

"STEP ON IT!" Max shouted.

The cab driver raised an eyebrow. "Uh, ma'am, this is a Prius."

"THEN ELECTRIFY IT FASTER."

The moment they skidded to a stop in front of the diner, Caroline and Max practically flung themselves inside.

Han was standing behind the counter, arms crossed, a murderous expression on his face.

"You're late," he said flatly.

Caroline held up a finger. "Technically, we're fashionably late."

Han did not look amused.

Max, ever the diplomat, grinned. "Would it make you feel better if we said we were up all night making business deals with billionaires?"

Han's eye twitched. "No."

Caroline sighed. "Okay, then what if I say we were up all night eating weed cookies and passing out on the floor?"

Han stared at them.

Then he sighed, rubbing his temples. "You know what? I don't even want to know."

Caroline and Max exchanged a look of relief.

"But."

Uh-oh.

"The health inspector gave us a warning," Han continued, glaring. "Which means if this place isn't spotless by the next visit, we're screwed."

Caroline groaned. "Great. As if today wasn't already trying to kill me."

Han ignored her suffering. "So you two are on cleaning duty for the rest of the shift."

Max's smile immediately vanished. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let's not be hasty."

Han folded his arms. "Mop. Buckets. Now."

Caroline sighed in defeat. "I hate everything."

Max pouted. "I hate manual labor."

Han smirked. "Make sure the kitchen's floor is spotless.."

And so, as punishment for their questionable life choices, Caroline and Max spent the next six hours scrubbing, mopping, and questioning every decision they had ever made.

Caroline made a mental note to never eat anything Max handed her ever again.

...

Caroline was elbow-deep in soap water, aggressively scrubbing the counter like it had personally insulted her. Max, on the other hand, was mopping the floor with the enthusiasm of a sloth on NyQuil.

"This is cruel and unusual punishment," Max whined, halfheartedly pushing the mop forward an inch and then pulling it back. "This is a violation of human rights. I'm calling Amnesty International."

Caroline didn't even look up. "Tell them to bring snacks."

Just when she thought this day couldn't get any worse...

"Ladies! My favorite hard-working, underpaid, overqualified, very bendy waitresses!"

Caroline's stomach dropped.

Max groaned. "Oh, God. Here we go."

Oleg, the diner's walking HR violation, sauntered in with a greasy grin, his mustache twitching with excitement.

"I heard you two got in trouble," he drawled, leaning dramatically against the counter like he was starring in a telenovela. "And now you're being forced to scrub every dirty crevice in this diner." He smirked. "I love it."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Oleg, if you're here to offer us inappropriate solutions to our cleaning problem, I swear to God—"

"Oh, but I am, my dear Caroline," Oleg said, waggling his eyebrows. "I have a proposition."

Max gagged. "I already hate this."

Oleg grinned. "Ladies, picture this: You. Me. Japanese maid outfits."

Caroline dropped the sponge. "Oh, hell no."

Max gagged harder. "Oh, double hell no."

Oleg held up a finger. "Ah, ah, ah! I'm not done. You wear the maid outfits…" He leaned in. "But without the dress."

Caroline blinked. "I..."

Max stared. "Wait..."

Oleg's grin widened. "Just the aprons."

Caroline made a strangled sound. "OH MY GOD."

Max wheezed. "OH MY GOD."

Han, who had been walking past, stopped dead in his tracks.

He turned, looking at Oleg like he was reconsidering whether murder was worth going to jail for. "Oleg."

Oleg grinned at him. "Yes, boss?"

Han exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "For the last time, you cannot proposition the staff."

Oleg gasped. "What? I wasn't propositioning them! I was offering to pay them!"

Caroline threw her sponge at his face. "THAT'S WORSE!"

Max was crying from laughter. "This is it. This is how I die. Death by secondhand embarrassment."

Han clenched his jaw. "Oleg, either walk away or I swear I will personally staple your lips shut."

Oleg put a hand over his heart, deeply wounded. "I am offended by the lack of appreciation for my generosity."

Caroline grabbed the mop from Max and jabbed it at him like a medieval spear. "OUT. NOW."

Oleg dodged it with surprising agility. "Fine, fine! But my offer stands. Any time you ladies want to make a little extra cash, you know where to find me."

Max gave him a deadpan look. "Yeah, in a courtroom when we inevitably file a restraining order."

Oleg gave her finger guns before retreating back to the kitchen.

Caroline collapsed against the counter. "I hate this place."

Max wiped fake tears from her eyes. "I hate how rich men just give you money for nothing and meanwhile I get sexual harassment and a mop."

Han sighed, running a hand down his face. "Chop, chop, less talk more scrubbing."

Caroline groaned. "So… how much longer are we on cleaning duty?"

Han smirked. "Oh, you're just getting started."

Max screamed into the mop.

This was going to be a long day.