Trick or Treat (Silver Spoon Connections)
1. Tony
Chapter 1
Tony
I walk through Trick or Treat, my new passion project in the heart of Midnight Falls, Texas, just grinning like an idiot. Who would’ve thought that Tony Conti, former righthand man to one of Vegas's biggest mob bosses, would end up here, in this quirky little town that celebrates Halloween all year round? But here I am, retired at thirty-nine and opening a Halloween-themed bar in the old general store building. This kind of shit only happens in Midnight Falls.
The transformation of the old, dusty factory into this vintage, three-level haunt of mine feels surreal. Cobweb chandeliers, skeleton bartenders, and even a dance floor in the basement—I'm like a kid in a candy store, except the candy is craft beer and ridiculous spooky cocktails.
Tonight's the first of my Thirteen Nights of Halloween Bash, and I'm buzzing with a mix of nerves and excitement as I watch a few early birds trickle in, wearing the most elaborate of costumes. I'm hoping this bash will put Trick or Treat on the map. I mean, after all those years in Vegas, dealing with high rollers and even higher stakes, throwing a party in the postage-stamp-sized town should be a walk in the park, right?
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It's Marco, my best friend and former boss. I chuckle before I even answer, knowing he’s going to rib me about this.
“Hey, traitor!”, Marco bellows through the phone, and the familiar roar reminds me how much I’m missing my old life. Way fucking more than I’d expected. “How’s my favorite deserter doing?”
“Deserter? I thought I was your favorite retiree now,” I counter, leaning against the bar and waving at a couple dressed like Dracula and Frankenstein as they walk past.
Marco laughs, that deep, booming sound that used to scare the crap out of everyone but Tabitha, his adorably sweet wife. “You up and leave me in Vegas to run some hick-town ghost bar. I give you two months before you’re bored out of your fucking mind.”
I don’t think so, but I’m not about to argue with Marco. “How’s Tabitha?” I shift the conversation to his wife, hoping he’ll take the bait and let the other subject die.
“She’s good. She said to tell you that nobody makes a lasagna like you do.” I smile, remembering how much my friend loves my cooking. I miss parts of my old life, especially my friends, but not all the rest that went with it. “So, how’s it really going down there?” His voice shifts into the don’t fucking attempt to lie to me tone he perfected over the years of running his family’s business.
“It’s all going according to plan, Marco. You’d love it here—though you'd probably scare the townsfolk," I joke, imagining Marco strolling down Main Street like he owns the place.
I can hear him let out a huff on the other end. "Well, I better get a VIP invite if I ever make it out to that spook-fest.”
“Is there any other kind of invitation for the Dean of Darkness?”
“The Dean of Darkness?” He chuckles. “That goddamn crazy ass town is already rubbing off on you.”
He’s not wrong. I should be worried about how fast I’ve turned into one of the locals, but I’m not. The first moment I stepped foot in Midnight Falls, I instantly fell for the Halloween-themed town.
Our banter goes back and forth, grounding me. Turns out you can take the man out of Vegas, but the friends and memories? They stick with you, no matter how much fake cobweb you have to dust off when you think about them. The call ends with Marco telling me he's proud of me, in that roundabout way of his, and I hang up feeling even better about what I’ve built here.
I slip the phone back into my pocket and look out at the growing crowd. Dracula and Frankenstein are now dancing with a ghost and a witch, and just like that, I’m home, in this town that’s adopted me and my kooky bar idea.
Here’s to new beginnings, old friends, and thirteen nights of ghoulishly good fun. Who knew retirement could be such a scream?
The first night of my Thirteen Nights of Halloween bash went off without a hitch. We were packed to the gills until well after closing time, and I left last night feeling exhausted and rejuvenated at the same time.
Now, the second night is in full swing, and I’m completely in my element. The bar is buzzing with lively chatter and laughter, and the place is packed. I stand behind the old, dark wood bar, admiring how the stained-glass mural casts colorful patterns across the room. It’s all coming together better than I could have imagined when I came up with this kooky idea.
Shane, my head bartender, and the best hire I've made so far, is juggling cocktail shakers like a pro. He’s dressed as a rock star vampire with his long brown hair pulled into a low ponytail behind his head, black eyeliner on his eyes, and two gleaming white fangs. As he slides a bright green concoction across the bar, I lean over to him.
“I think we might need more help. You know a few extra hands wouldn't hurt?” I nod toward a group at the far end clamoring for more refills.
Shane chuckles, flashing his faux fangs. “You aren’t wrong. We’ve got more ghosts and ghouls than the Winchester House in here.”
“I’ll put out an ad reading ‘Must enjoy Halloween and tolerate the lamest jokes ever,’” I say, grinning.
And that's when it happens. The door swings open, and a fresh wave of costumed revelers tumbles in. But one of them stands out like a spotlight on a dark stage. She walks in, or rather, she struts in, and my brain does that classic cartoon thing where I’m pretty sure my eyes pop out of my head like two ping-pong balls.
She’s dressed in a tight, black leather Catwoman costume that clings to her curves like it was sewn on her. And she’s short, five feet if she’s lucky, but the way she carries herself makes her seem tall and full of presence. Her long, sleek blonde hair cascades down her back while her piercing pale blue eyes appear to glow even in the dimly lit bar.
I’m completely caught off guard when she glances in my direction, turning my heart to mush. As my eyes roam over her bountiful curves, my cock hardens, shocking the fuck out of me. I’ve lived my life surrounded by gorgeous women, but none of them have ever caused me to have even a flicker of interest. Yet, this gorgeous little kitty has me tied in knots within seconds. I can feel Shane’s eyes on me, following my gaze, and he lets out a low whistle.
“Oh man, you’ve been drinking the Silver Spoon Falls water, haven’t you? You might want to reel those eyes back in before you trip over them,” he snorts, giving me a nudge.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I stammer, trying to laugh it off, but my heart’s not in it. There’s something about her that has stolen my full attention, so I only partially hear Shane’s explanation.
“Didn’t anyone explain to you about the magic water in Silver Spoon Falls before you built your fancy ass mansion there?” He leans close like he’s sharing some big secret. “Rumor has it, drinking the extra-special water causes love at first sight.”
I tear my eyes away from the stunning Catwoman and glare at him. “Come on, Shane, have you been drinking the Kool-Aid? Magical water?”
He snorts. “Hey, it’s not me saying it. Blame it on the residents in Silver Spoon Falls. They swear by it. Folks around here love their legends. You take a sip of that enchanted water and bam . Cupid’s got you in his sights, whether you like it or not.”
I feel like I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone, but I’m not complaining. Not when there’s a gorgeous little kitty standing a few feet away. “You think I’m under some sort of love spell?”
“Hey, stranger things have happened, my friend. Besides, it’d make a hell of a story. ‘Ex-Vegas mobster finds love thanks to small-town magic.’” He shrugs, painting the picture with grand gestures.
He laughs again, and I glare at him. “I don’t believe in fairy tales.”
The woman glances over toward the bar and starts to make her way through the crowd, the leather of her outfit gleaming under the chandeliers, and I forget all about magic water and fairy tales. I try to play it cool, but my palms turn clammy. Damn, who knew Catwoman could make my heart race like a teenager with a crush?
She approaches the bar, flashing a smile that could light up all of Texas. “Hi, can I get a glass of your house specialty poison?” she asks, and even her voice is perfectly sweet with a hint of mischief.
I clear my throat, hoping I don’t sound like a complete goddamn idiot. “Hello, kitty, welcome to Trick or Treat. How about our signature potion, the Witch’s Brew? It’s got just the right kick to get the night started.” My eyes hold hers captive as I forget all about Shane standing next to me listening in.
“That sounds perfect,” she says, not breaking eye contact. There’s a spark there, something intense and powerful, and suddenly, it feels like we’re the only two people in this bustling bar.
I take my time making her drink, hoping to give my heart time to settle a little before I slide the drink over with as much swagger as I can muster. “First one’s on the house,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
She laughs softly, a sound that rings above the music, and takes a sip. “Mmm, delicious. Thank you very much, Count Dracula.”
“You’re welcome.” I lean in a little closer over the bar, needing to get rid of the space between us. “And, please call me Tony.”
And just like that, the night takes on an even brighter glow. It’s amazing how sometimes, without warning, someone steps into your life and shakes it up like the glitter in a snow globe. As the party continues to whirl around us, all I can think is that Midnight Falls might just be the best decision I’ve ever made—right after opening Trick or Treat.