2. Chapter 2 - Minnie
“Well?” Sapphire presses. “Are the rumors about you and Reddy true?”
No, they’re not. I would never sleep with an evil monster who wants to hurt innocent creatures!
I yawn and examine my nails again. “Whatever.”
“Either put on the magic dampener or get new tells. These are boring. Here, have some ice cream. You can’t be bored when there’s ice cream! We have a new macaroni and cheese flavor.”
Which sounds as bad as pickle ice cream… maybe worse.
I would love some chocolate ice cream, though. Or strawberry banana.
“No,” my mouth says. “You know ice cream is just empty calories.” Yet another example of how much Formula M sucks.
“Can I have ice cream?” Natty asks.
Sapphire snorts. “You might have designer bags and shit, Minnie, but the kid has better taste than you do.”
I’d sigh if I could.
Natty looks equally frustrated. “Ice cream?” he asks again. “Yummy ice cream?”
“Yes, Natty,” I tell him. Apparently, Formula M is willing to make an exception for kids.
As if on cue, Bob strolls out of the kitchen with a small carton of strawberry and hands it to Natty, along with a child-sized spoon. “I’ll make you some waffles, too.”
“Yay, Bob!” Natty cheers.
“Anytime, little man.”
I eye the ice cream longingly. “Remember not to give any to Tiptoe. It’ll give him a tummy ache.”
Bob nods. “I’ve got you a special snack, Tiptoe,” he says, popping back into the kitchen and returning with a plate of seeds.
“Thanks.” The mouse scurries onto the table, whiskers twitching.
Bob heads back into the kitchen, brings a carton of ice cream and spoon for Sapphire, and kisses her hair.
I wish I had someone who brought me ice cream without me even having to ask. I wish I wasn’t fated to be alone.
“Mmm,” Sapphire says, smiling up at Bob as she digs into the yellow ice cream. “Almost as tasty as your coc—”
“Saph! There’s a kid here.”
Watching them makes my heart hurt, but luckily, Formula M doesn’t let it show. It also doesn’t let me burst into tears in the middle of the diner and word-vomit everything that’s wrong with my life.
Instead of fated mates, like the rest of the women in Silver Springs, the three men in my life are fated to bring me misery.
Damien Starr broke my heart when we were kids, and I won’t let him do it a second time.
Dr. Ashok Reddy is an evil vampire who created dozens of cute, innocent Fuzzies, and is now selling them as vampire food.
And Zachariah Riehl… I swallow a lump in my throat.
Zachariah never once hurt me, but he’ll destroy me when he takes Natty away from me.
I should let him take Natty away. I almost got him killed!
I think I’m going to throw up, but Formula M would never let that happen, so I examine my magically manicured nails instead.
Bob goes back to flipping veggie burgers on the flattop. “What kind of uniforms should I buy?” he asks, distracting me from the dark cloud hanging over my head.
“Nicer ones,” I tell him, even as my mind shouts at him not to buy new uniforms. It would be a waste of money, and he’s already given me weekend shifts, at-work childcare, and free food.
“Only if they reveal more dude ass,” Sapphire says. “Your uniform can stay the same, Minnie.”
Since Formula M doesn’t have a retort to ‘dude ass’ in its accepted vocabulary, I go marry some ketchups—which is sadly the most romantic thing that ever happens in my life.
As I work, my mind keeps replaying the near accident from earlier.
When I try not to think about it, it jumps to my other problems…
like the fact that I need to come up with a bunch of money in the next few days.
If I don’t, Zachariah will get parole, realize that we’re squatting at the bakery, and take away his little boy.
And the moment Amber and her guys leave on their babymoon cruise, the curse tethering me to Julian will kill me.
But how do I come up with enough money for an apartment and a cruise? Win the lottery? Rob a bank?
“Minnie?” Grant, a regular, holds up his mug. “Can I get a refill?”
He saves me from my thoughts, but instead of thanking him, I ignore him.
My mind flashes back to earlier, when my body refused to go after Natty. I’m a horrible person and a horrible guardian and…
Formula M pumps me full of calm until I can focus on Grant.
Coming right up, I keep thinking, over and over, but the words refuse to leave my mouth.
The fox shifter isn’t a difficult customer.
He’s in every Saturday, his nose buried in a book while he pecks away at his blueberry muffin and only takes advantage of Bob’s free refills once or twice.
I know he takes his coffee sweet and creamy, but I can’t seem to make myself move toward the counter so I can grab the carafe.
I roll my eyes at Grant instead. “Whatever.”
Grant smirks and says, “This is why I like to freelance. My rules. Plus, I don’t have to deal with too many people at once.”
I’d work freelance too, if I had any marketable skills. Which I don’t. And I sure as hell don’t see myself getting a waitress of the year award.
Luckily, Bob doesn’t seem to mind my stellar customer service skills. He skips out of the kitchen, a huge smile on his face. “I’ve got it, Grant,” he says, grabbing the mug. “And I’ll get you another muffin, on the house.”
“That’s why I stay,” Grant says, going back to his book.
There’s a steady stream of customers after that. They place their orders, get annoyed, tip Bob instead of me, compliment his delicious food, shoot glares at me, and leave. I could use the tips, but I can’t override Formula M, so there’s no use crying over lost cash.
Just before noon, I toss my shirt in my locker and say a quick goodbye to Natty. Bob’s got him on a tablet in the back, watching cartoons.
“Turn it up so I can hear it, Natty,” Bob calls as he rushes around the kitchen to prepare meals. “It’s just getting to the good part.”
To my surprise, Natty has no trouble finding the volume button.
“I’m off for my lunch break,” I call out. “Watch Natty for me.”
Sapphire frowns. “You can’t just leave. It’s busy.”
I want to apologize and explain, but Formula M won’t let me admit that I’ve got therapy.
“I’ve got a medical appointment,” I say curtly. “Bob said it’s fine.”
“You could cut Bob’s dick off and he’d say it’s fine,” Sapphire says. “I like your no-fucks attitude but stop screwing over my Bob.”
Bob gasps. “Sapphire, there’s a baby here!”
“I’m a big kid,” Natty proclaims.
I try not to think about the sort of language Natty will be using by the time he starts school. I also feel bad about taking advantage of Bob, but after what just happened this morning, I need to see my therapist. My life is a mess—and it’s too late to reschedule.
I spin away from Sapphire and let the back door slam behind me as she shouts about firing my ass. I hope she doesn’t mean it, since I need the money. But, knowing Bob, I’ll still have a job when I get back.
Then I head across town so I can not talk about the mess that is my life. Because, as long as I’m taking Formula M, my repertoire of answers to my therapist’s questions comprises ‘whatever’, yawns, and eye rolls. But my life is so screwed up, I’ll take what I can get.