Page 8 of Blind Luck

“But that table is for four people,” Cotton Candy said, her tone a mix of bitchiness and derision. No wonder the bartender had grimaced. “And you’re on your own.”

“I’m waiting for somebody.”

“But we’re here now, and whoever you’re ‘waiting for’ isn’t.”

“Yes, you’re here, but the restaurant is half empty. There are at least twenty other tables that will seat the three of you.”

“Okay, so we needthistable. We’re shooting a BuzzHub video, and that shelf you’re in front of is the one we need to use for our background.”

“There are shelves around the entire room. Why can’t you use one of those?”

“Because this one has the best lighting.” She said it like I was stupid.

Someone walked toward the staff door, and I peered around Cherry to get a better look. False alarm. It was the same slightly harried man I’d seen half a dozen times already. I wasn’t sure what he did at the Galaxy, but I was pretty sure it involved popping antacids.

“Well, you’re not using these other chairs, so we canborrow them,” Plum said, dropping into the seat opposite me.

“Why do you have to act so entitled? I’m here for a quiet dinner, not to be an extra in your horror movie.”

Although years had passed since I left the Promised Land, I wasn’t sure I’d ever stop looking over my shoulder. Not as long as the Prophet was still alive. Which he was. The cult had a freaking website now, and it brought a whole new meaning to the word “doomscrolling.” According toThe Promised Word—the book of writings that the Prophet swore the Lord had spoken into his ear—sinners who didn’t repent, donate all their worldly goods to the cause, and devote their life to serving Him were destined to suffer for eternity.

Also, my hair wasn’t exactly camera-ready. When the stress of surviving on my own made half of it fall out, I’d gone with a pixie cut because it was either that or random tufts everywhere. Plus boyish hairstyles were forbidden in the Promised Land, so chopping it off had felt like a small act of rebellion. But short hair didn’t suit me. And after an asshole in a strip club told me I had bad hair and a bad attitude, I’d decided to try growing it out again. Now it was at that awkward in-between stage where I wanted to reach for the scissors, but so far, I’d managed to resist.

Cotton Candy and Cherry gasped in unison at my comment.

“We arenotmaking a horror movie,” Cotton Candy snapped. “We’re making BookBuzz videos.”

“Books are so hot right now,” Plum informed me.

“Can you even read?”

“Why are you being such a bitch?”

Cotton Candy pulled a bunch of books out of a tote bag and stacked them on the table. The top one looked as if it was in German. The title had those little O’s with the dots and the S that looked like a B.

“So you’re on German BuzzHub?”

Candy scoffed. “Of course not. Who needs to speak German?”

“Then why do you have a German book?”

“Because the sprayed edges are soooo pretty. No one buys special edition books to actually read them, you know that, right?”

Huh? Why would you buy a book if you weren’t going to read it?

“Okay, whatever, but you’ll have to go and not read your books somewhere else.”

“Are you dumb? We already told you why we’re here, and we know all about lighting. Last month, we were doing make-up videos.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Because views dropped, like, a ton. Everyone wants the natural look now.”

“You know what else is hot?” Cotton Candy said. “Knitting.”

Plum stared at her. “Knitting? Like, we’d have to learn to knit?”

“Maybe we could do flat-lays with coloured yarn?”

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