Page 13 of One Life to Loathe

I made a sputtering sound that was half a laugh and half a snort. “I’m not all that mean,” I argued. “You just caught me on a bad day.” Why I felt the need to defend myself to her was beyond me.

“Okay.” She flashed a smile, but it wasn’t real. Her real smile had been on display in the park. This one was for my benefit … and I didn’t like it.

Rather than let the conversation devolve—which is what it likely would’ve done—Daisy snapped her fingers and pointed at the building across the road. “Oh, if you guys are looking for a good photo op at some point, wait until after dark. That’s the Salem Witch Museum. At night, they have lights that change the exterior to different colors. It will look really cool in photos.”

“How is the museum?” Sam asked. Her attention was on Daisy and away from me again, something I didn’t like.

Why the hell did that bother me? It was so weird.

“Actually, the museum itself sucks,” Daisy replied. “It’s not really a museum. They basically take you in a small auditorium, make you sit on stools that were designed for children and are vastly uncomfortable, and then you have to look up and hear the story of the witch trials related to you as a light moves between wax figure bays. Some of the wax figures don’t even have body parts that match up.”

I burst out laughing, convinced she was joking. When Daisy’s response was to raise an eyebrow, I was floored. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“I am not,” she replied. “My most fervent wish is that somebody would put me in charge of all the tourist draws for a month so I could get this town streamlined and running properly. Unfortunately, that is not an option.”

“Wow.” That was all I could say.

“The museum gift shop is to die for, though,” Daisy said to Sam. “If you want something to take home, you should definitely check out that place.”

“Oh, I’m going to check out every place,” Sam enthused. “I don’t care how corny it is. I want to see it all.”

“See.” Daisy beamed at her. “I knew you were my sort of person the second I met you.”

“What about me?” I asked her as we resumed our walk down the sidewalk. “Am I your sort of person?”

I thought for sure she would laugh and shake her head. Instead, Daisy graced me with another unreadable look. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Next up was Essex Street, and I forced myself to listen closely as Daisy gave us the rundown.

“So, as the foot traffic for fall picks up—and that happens earlier and earlier every year because getting in here in October takes nerves of steel—the weekends will see kiosks lining the street up and down.”

“Food trucks?” Sam asked hopefully. “I happen to love food trucks.”

“I do too,” I said before I realized I was going to comment.

Sam gave me a sharp look. “You do?”

“Why is that so surprising?”

“Because you strike me as the sort of guy who needs a hundred-dollar bottle of wine to go with his filet mignon.”

“I’m more of a burger and fries guy.”

Sam snickered. “Right.”

“I am.”

“Okay.” She went back to watching Daisy. “What sort of kiosks do they have?”

“It’s stuff like witch hats … and wands … and capes. I even got a crown last year. Jax likes it when I wear it to bed.”

“Nice.” Sam’s giggle sent warm shots of … something I couldn’t identify … right to my heart. “Is it a tiara?”

“Yes, with a unicorn horn.”

“That is so weird,” Sam said. “I like it, though.”

“Also, if you love food trucks, those will be all over the place too,” Daisy said. “My friend Lux and her husband Jesse run one of them—although she’s pregnant now so I’m guessing they’ll have workers take most of the shifts so she’s not on her feet constantly—and they make the absolute best food.” She offered up an exuberant chef’s kiss. “My favorite is the fried green tomato sandwich. Actually, when we’re done with our tour, I’ll take you to their restaurant so you can get a sample.”

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