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“I can’t even say it! They’ll hear me!”
My jaw ticks and my eyes narrow, vengeance and lethal justice filling me in an instant. Is it too much to start carrying a weapon? I could never get a gun. Katanas, perhaps. I nod in silent agreement. Much better idea.
“Why would Barnes—”
“No!” I cry, slicing my hands through the air. “Don’t you dare say their name. It’s blasphemy, I tell you! Just saying it is like calling for the Devil himself. You don’t even need the weird board thing. Just say it, and, pow!” I practically scream the last word and Georgie jumps five inches. “They’ll materialize.” I wiggle my fingers in the air, picturing the golden flecks of magic dust all around us.
“Okay.” She agrees easily enough, knowing just as well as I do that it’s possible. “But why would theycome for you?”
I scoff. “The big fishies always munch on the whittle baby worms.” I gnash my teeth, clacking them like a piranha. “But you mark my words, it was them. They’ve been trying to shut us down for years. It’s all about the green, Georgie. All about the green.”
“Sing it, sister.” She cocks her head. “Do you really think they’d go that far?”
I’m nodding before she even finishes. “Yes! Did you hear what happened to The Ink Blot?” I mime an explosion with my hands, and she gasps clutching her fake pearls.
Or maybe she’s imagining the way that hot porn star we love filled a woman’s clavicle with his cum in a recent video. We had a viewing party with my bestie, Lyric, last week. It was…cum-tacular, to say the least.
A shiver wracks my spine. Georgie and I pause, shooting each other a conspiratorial grin.
“You were thinking about—“
“My favorite pearl necklace? Yep.”
I sigh sadly, my fingers tracing my own throat. My heart gives a painful squeeze. What I wouldn’t do for my very own set of cock droplets.
She leans in and gives my shoulder a firm squeeze. “You’ll have it some day, little basket. Promise.”
I bob my head, but honestly, I’m not so sure anymore. One can only have so many pump and dumps before they start questioning a man’s intentions. Is it too much to ask for a call back after tossing a stranger's salad so good he actually cries for his mommy when I’m done?
No. No, I don’t think so.
I give her a quick, forced smile. “Thank you.” It’s an empty sentiment. All I’ve ever wanted is a family, and something tells me I might be going about it all wrong. “So will you.”
She nods, stepping away. “I’ll have Travis bring you another frappe when I get back.”
“You’re the best,” I swear, and I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without my morning dose of white, creamy goodness. I’m addicted. “I’ll owe you one.”
She waves me off and disappears down the road.
Groaning long and loud, I dust myself off, casting a wistful glance at the stain marking the final resting place of my beloved coffee, then unlock the door to DNF.
As I step into the comforting embrace of our bookstore, a haven of stories and dreams, I can't shake the feeling that today is going to be anything but ordinary.
Little do I know, the universe has more in store for me than near-death by bicycle.
The stage is set; the players are in motion, and my own real-life romantic comedy is about to unfold in the most unexpected of ways.
