Page 91 of Mayhem and Minnie

“And how do you know that? Maybe I do.”

“You don’t. I know you don’t.”

Before I get to mull over how she knows that, she continues.

“Who were you with? You don’t drink, so you must have been there for another reason.”

“Minnie…” I groan.

What the hell is with her? This morning she could barely spare me a glance and now she’s interrogating me about my whereabouts.

“Was it a woman?” she asks as she taps her foot against the tiled floor. She’s only wearing her slippers, and as I look down, I make the mistake of also glancing at that little silky pajama she’s dressed in.

Big. Mistake.

I gulp down.

My thoughts immediately scramble as my gaze becomes fixated on her legs. Very fine legs, indeed.

“Did you bring a woman here? Where is she?” Her vicious tone brings me back to the present.

“What?”

“You’re hiding a woman in there, aren’t you? Move aside,” she demands.

“There’s no one there, Minnie.” I sigh.

“I don’t believe you. Y-you’re so secretive, you must be hiding something. Who is it?”

“No one,” I say. “Let’s go upstairs. I’m hungry and I want to know what you prepared for dinner.”

A little late for dinner considering it’s the middle of the night, but maybe this can distract her long enough to forget about the basement.

What the hell got into her, anyway? Why is she so convinced I have a woman in here? She’s been with me long enough to see I don’t entertain guests.

But maybe…

Does she think I’m trying to replace her?

Sure, her cleaning has been ninety percent accurate, but her cooking more than makes up for that ten percent. I doubt I’d ever find a better cook than her. Not even restaurant food tastes as good.

Perhaps she’s merely insecure about her work. She doesn’t have anywhere to go after all, and though she hasn’t been exactly cordial with me, she must want to protect her position.

“No,” she states staunchly, placing herself in front of me as I try to move. “Show me,” she repeats, pointing at the door. “I want to see with my own eyes. You and your one hundred and fifty-seven bodies. What’s one more to that collection?” she mumbles under her breath.

My lips curl around the corners and I barely stop myself from chuckling. Technically, she’s right. I did add another body to that collection. But if I were to say that, she’d once more misunderstand me—not that I did anything to clear that misunderstanding in the first place.

I step around her to leave, but it seems her stubbornness knows no bounds.

She plops herself on the floor, her back to the door.

“I’m not leaving. I’ll stay here until you open the door and show me,” she mentions, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Minnie, you’re being outrageous.”

“Not more than you. You can just show me and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Why do you care so much if I am or not with another woman?” I ask, my blood pounding in my ears as I await the explanation.

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