Page 93 of All Along

“I told you,” he hollers after me. “Everyone in my life is better off without me.”

No, we’re not.

You’re not getting rid of me, Caleb. Not ever. But I need some time and space to figure out how to deal with this new version of the man I love.

I pray to the mermaids this new version isn’t permanent.

Chapter 32

“I didn’t steal the moonshine.” ~ Maya

Maya

“Enough!” Nova yells.

What’s going on? Why is Nova yelling? Nova is not a yeller. She’s Ms. Sunshine on a Rainy Day.

I glance up from my computer to discover Chloe, Sophia, and Paisley are standing in front of my desk with Nova. My brow wrinkles. Chloe should be downstairs managing the restaurant and bar while Paisley should be across the parking lot in the brewery working on whatever she works on when she’s there.

“What is everyone doing here?”

Nova grins. “We’re here to cheer you up.”

“And to save your fingernails.” Nova points to my hand where I have indeed chewed off most of my fingernails.

“Her fingernails are a lost cause,” Paisley observes.

I stuff my hands in my pockets. “Why are we discussing my fingernails?”

“Because Nova and Paisley are too nice to askwhyyou’re chewing your fingernails,” Sophia says. “I’m not. Why are you chewing your fingernails?”

I study her. “I get the distinct feeling you already know.”

Which makes no sense. How could they possibly know what happened last evening with Caleb? I know the smuggler’s grapevine is better than any spy network during the Cold War but we were inside a cabin in the woods. No one could have overheard us or happened to walk by.

“I don’t have any details but you’re obviously upset about something that happened with Caleb,” Sophia says.

“Why do you think I’m upset with Caleb?”

She snorts. “Because every other morning you’ve flitted inside the office happy as a smuggler who fooled the police into thinking he was innocent.”

“It’s true.” Chloe nods. “You’ve been happy as a mermaid who lured a sailor to his death.”

Paisley sighs. “We’ve discussed this. Mermaids don’t lure sailors to their death. And mermaids aren’t real.”

Chloe shoves her palm in Paisley’s face. “Mermaids are real. End of discussion.”

“I guess if you say the discussion is over, it is,” Paisley mutters under her breath.

“You have two choices,” Sophia announces. “You can tell us what happened here and now.”

Not happening.

“What’s my other choice?”

“We’ll get you drunk at Mermaid Karaoke and then you’ll spill all of your problems without us asking.”

I hate to admit it, but Sophia’s right. I am a bit of a blabbermouth when I’ve been downing shots of moonshine. But, really, who isn’t?

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