9. Chapter 9 - Minnie
Bright and early the next morning, I carry Natty into Jewels Cafe only to be greeted by Damien’s annoying voice singing Blood Witch over the speaker. It’s bad enough that I’m marrying the guy this afternoon. Does he have to be everywhere?
Amber’s cross-legged on the floor, holding up a yellow rubber duckie, which she throws toward me.
I realize it’s a dog toy the moment Latte gives chase.
The pup races after it, tail wagging. “Got it. Nope. Got it. Nope. Got it. Nope,” he shouts, head-butting the toy further and further away.
“Use your teeth.” Sir Tiptoe sits astride Latte’s back, looking like a regal mouse knight with his shiny collar sparkling in the morning sun. “Go right,” he shouts, directing the chase. “No, right! Your other right! There you go. You got it!”
Natty claps and cheers, “Yay, doggie.”
“And yay mousie,” I tell him. “Tiptoe was helping by giving directions.”
The mouse nods in agreement.
“Good job,” I say, fighting the urge to fall onto all fours and wiggle my ass. Literally.
Welcome to life without Formula M.
There’s still a bit left in my system, which keeps me from making a fool of myself, but it does nothing for the panic crawling beneath my skin. Or the desire to throw something at the speakers to shut Damien up.
“Morning, Minnie. Morning, Natey-Nate,” Amber says as she gives the puppy a scratch and gently strokes the mouse’s back.
“Hi ’Bear!” Natty shouts.
“Oh, um, hey, Amber,” I add awkwardly. Yeesh.
“Want me to change the song?” she asks.
She sounds sad. I know I should tell her to keep the song on, but I can’t stand the thought of listening to Damien for another second. So I nod instead.
The relief when she pulls out her phone and finally shuts Damien up is palpable… until I start hearing his voice on repeat in my head.
My fingers drop into my Birkin, where I’ve got today’s dose of Formula M.
My chest tightens and I force my hand back out of the bag.
I shouldn’t have even brought it with me.
There’s no way I’ll ever take it again. It could put Natty in danger…
and ruin my one chance at finding a decent place to leave before Zachariah’s released.
But how am I going to survive an entire day without the potion?
I’m going to have to find a way, that’s how!
Great, now I’m arguing with myself…
I grimace and take a deep breath. I need to forget about Formula M.
Even if I leave Natty with Amber, where he’s safe, the potion would never let me marry Damien.
And it’s not like I can walk into the town hall wearing the magic dampener.
If that doesn’t scream ‘married under duress’, I don’t know what does.
Just the thought of marrying my childhood best friend sends so many emotions coursing through me, I think I might burst into tears in the middle of the cafe. There is still so much warmth there. So much longing. And so much hurt. Betrayal.
Danny Stravinsky was my everything—until he realized I was holding him back and left me to become Damien Starr.
And I’m the idiot who asked for a kiss.
It’s bad enough that he already has an ego the size of Silver Springs. Now, he probably thinks I’m just another fangirl, ready to fall at his feet. And the thought of those twinkling, arrogant eyes and that one, raised eyebrow, mocking me, makes me want to slap him.
“Minnie?” Natty nudges me. “What is your face doing?”
“Nothing,” I quickly smooth out my features and set the boy down. And instantly flash back to the near-collision with the green pickup truck.
Don’t think about that. Focus on the present. The confused look on Natty’s face. The classical music playing on the speakers. The smell of pumpkin spice latte in the air.
I pull Natty in for a tight hug and force some cheer into my voice. “I think Amber could use your help.”
“I could?” she asks in surprise.
I nod. “Natty, why don’t you help her throw the rubber duckie?”
“Okay!” Natty races toward Latte and scoops up the toy.
The pup barks and wags his tail in excitement. Tiptoe holds on tightly to some fur, the bell on his collar jingling as he shouts “giddy-up, pup!”
Amber lights up as she watches Natty throw the duckie, and I wonder if she’s picturing her own kids playing with Latte one day. Will Natty still be in my life then?
That is why I’m marrying Damien! I try to hype myself up. The house will convince Zachariah to let me stay in Natty’s life. And I can get a new Formula M. One that will make me look like the perfect guardian. One that will make him want to keep me around.
“So, Minnie,” Amber places a hand on her enormous belly. “You look… different.”
I scramble for something to say. “You look… less tired.”
“That’s because you are a genius.” She breaks out into a huge grin. “Your advice with Latte was perfect. He really was scared of the dark!”
My cheeks flush. “Oh, um…” I open my mouth twice. No words come out.
Oh, great. I can’t even human without Formula M! How am I going to work at the cafe? Customers are going to start trickling in, and I can’t string together a proper sentence. I’ll probably have a panic attack, and dive under the counter, and… Goddess, help me!
Amber keeps talking and I focus on breathing as I catch a word here and there. “Night light.” “Slept.” “Adorable.” “Thank you.”
My skin is too warm and too tight and I feel all sorts of wrong as I piece her words together.
Amber waits for me to reply, and an awkward silence stretches between us, broken up by barking, squeaking, and Natty’s giggling.
Say something, Minnie. Say something!
I manage an awkward, “Whatever.”
And grimace.
I should have said something else. Anything else. Like, “I’m so glad to hear Latte’s sleeping through the night.” Is it too late to say it now? Why can’t I talk like a normal person?
And if I’m this bad with Amber—who’s the closest thing I’ve got to a friend—how can I possibly talk to anyone else? How will I get through the wedding ceremony?
I can’t do this!
The upstairs door bangs open, and heavy feet pound down the stairs. I panic that it might be Julian, but to my relief, it’s Amber’s bear shifter mate, Wes.
“Natty, I’m so glad you’re here,” he booms as he steps into the cafe. “I need your help mixing ingredients for breakfast.”
“Chef Natty!” the three-year-old shouts and races toward him.
“Food. Food. Food!” Latte yelps, chasing after him.
“Run. Run. Run!” Tiptoe urges him on.
I grin, surprised to feel the expression reflected on my face, not just in my heart.
Wes scoops up my boy under one arm and the pup and his mouse rider under the other. Then, the bear shifter squats down while holding his wiggling cargo and places a kiss on Amber’s lips.
Seeing them together, like this, makes my heart long for something I know I’ll never have.
I hold back tears as Wes gets to his feet and lumbers back up the stairs amidst joyful barks, squeaks, and peals of laughter. Is there still some Formula M in my system? Or did I manage to control my emotions all on my own?
The upstairs door slams shut, and Amber turns to me, “Okay, spill.”
I frown. “Spill what?”
“That!” She gestures at me. “Either Delphine is hiding in the cafe without her amulet, or you’re not on Formula M.”
I grimace. “I… didn’t take it this morning.”
Amber rolls onto her side. “Why not?” She pushes her belly off the ground and grunts. “What happened?” Then she awkwardly gets to her feet.
Oh, shit, should I have offered to help?
She places her hands on her knees, takes a second to recover from the effort of getting up while carrying triplets, and then glances at me. “Is it because of…” she trails off.
For a split second I start to panic that she knows about the pickup truck… or my deal with Damien.
“You know, what happened at the library?” Because last time we had a chance to really talk, I had just realized I have three fated hates.
“It’s not that, I…” Am getting married this afternoon, and I almost got Natty killed. “I thought I could use a change?”
“A change?” Amber wrings her hands. She sounds worried, and if she weren’t pregnant, she’d probably be shifting like crazy right about now. “You can talk to me, Minnie. You know that, right?”
I nod. And I want to tell her—I do—but what do I say?
That I put Natty’s life in danger and, oh yeah, I’m marrying the rock star she idolizes, whose music she’s obsessed with…
for money? And that I knew him when we were kids?
Not just knew… I’d been to his house, met his parents, hung out with him every day for years before he became famous.
Before he decided I was holding him back.
That I kept all this from her. That she doesn’t really know me.
To my relief, the bell above the cafe door jingles. That relief dissipates faster than the cloud on an Angel Coffee when Amber’s sister, Violet, and my sometimes-friend, Zoe, walk in.
Amber greets each woman with a huge hug and then waddles around the counter to make their drinks.
Me? I stand awkwardly to the side and blurt out, “Is this an intervention?”