Page 35 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

“I’m just saying. Why now?”

“He didn’t say,” I tell her, then hesitate before continuing. “I have a theory, though.”

“What’s the theory?”

I hesitate again and exhale. “Wren, I had a partial hysterectomy a couple months ago,” I say. “I think he might realize this is his last chance to get his bargain fulfilled since there’s not going to be any more Nightingales.”

“Oh, fuck,” Wren breathes. “Alright. I’ll be there in a bit. I’ll bring books and we’ll...I dunno, we’ll figure all this out.”

“Okay,” I say weakly. “And... Can you not tell Bastion about—”

“About the factory being closed? No worries, girl. I’m the last person who wants to have that conversation with him.”

I grimace, knowing she doesn’t mean to be malicious. But yeesh. “When will you be here?”

“Mmmm, give me about... a half-hour, kay?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Sounds good.”

After I hang up the phone, a familiar chirrup sounds from the back of the store, where all the metaphysical books and Tarot decks collect dust. I peer over the counter and call out. “Gloamy?”

I yelp as the little charcoal body of my cat suddenly crashes into my display of earrings I keep on the counter. Her pupils take up almost all the space in her green irises, and her ears are pinned down and to the side as her head whips from side to side. She’s going after the greebles. Again.

I laugh and scritch beneath her chin. “Where have you been?” I say. “You missed all the excitement.”

ㅤ

Yep. I’m totally in love with her. Forget being hopelessly in like with her. I’m going to fucking marry this girl.

Not even Satoshi’s shitty attitude can irritate me as we prep for our first recording session in the new studio. I let Oren know that the idea of him fucking my girl wasn’t immediately shut down and he seems pleased until I tell him to back the fuck off until I’m feeling more inclined to share.

“You’re such a possessive prick,” Oren says. “Haven’t you heard of being a selfless lover?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get her nice and warmed up for you. Just want to make sure she meets your standards,” I say sarcastically.

“Since when does Oren have any of those?” Fletcher asks.

Oren rolls his eyes, but it’s the only attention he pays to the jab. “In other words, you want to try every hole before I get a chance to?”

“Precisely,” I tell him.

“She’s doing alright, then?” Fletcher asks as Oren gives me an unbothered middle finger.

“Yeah,” I tell him, knowing he wants to know about the aftermath of the seizure and not about Lillith’s emotional confession about losing her family’s precious heirloom.

I curse myself for not remembering what it looks like, because I want to buy her a replacement. It’d be the perfect gesture.

“Are you going to be able to focus tonight? Or are you going to be dropping the beat left and right?” Satoshi asks.

“I’m going to drop these nuts in your mouth if you don’t shut the fuck up,” I say.

“Mature,” Satoshi says.

“I’ll be fine. Worry about your bass and leave me alone,” I say.

“Mom, dad, stop fighting. Please,” Oren says dispassionately.

My phone pings. It’s Lillith, her face smiling in profile on her contact when I look at the screen. I drop what I’m doing and open the message.