Page 15 of Until It Was Real

“Paisley. She’s part-owner of the brewery in town,Five Fathoms.”

“And it’s her fault mascots are forbidden from attending sports events? I’m confused.”

Parker giggles. “Welcome to Smuggler’s Hideaway. Each town on the island has a mascot. Smuggler’s Rest has Viking here. Rogue’s Landing has Rogue, the raccoon. And Pirate’s Perch has Plank, the parrot. Each summer the inhabitants of the towns try to steal the mascot of another town.”

“Why? And how? Raccoons are mean.”

“It’s a long-standing tradition. Whoever manages to steal the mascot from another town has eternal bragging rights.” Parker rubs her nose against Viking’s. “But no one’s going to steal you, are they?”

“Shouldn’t you keep the location of the otter a secret if you don’t want anyone to steal it?”

She taps his nose. “Viking being here is supposed to be a secret, but the little rascal keeps stealing my cookies.”

“Don’t you have a cage for her?”

Parker’s lips purse. “Nobody puts Viking in the corner.”

I giggle. “I don’t think the saying refers to an otter who steals cookies.”

Blossom holds out her hands. “Can I hold her? She’s so cute.”

Parker places Viking in Blossom’s hands. But the little rascal doesn’t stay there. She jumps onto the table and goes for my plate. When she notices the plate is empty, she sniffs the air and her gaze lands on my t-shirt.

I lean away from the table but I’m not quick enough. Viking launches herself onto my lap before crawling under my shirt. She scurries up my shirt and peeks her head out of my collar.

I pet her. “You’re a troublemaker.” I kiss her nose. “The cutest troublemaker in the world.”

Parker moans. “Now, she’s going to think it’s okay to jump under people’s shirts.”

I hand her the otter. “Maybe you should reconsider the cage thing.”

A buzzer goes off in the kitchen. “Be right back.”

Once she’s out of hearing range, Blossom leans close and whispers, “I think we should steal Viking.”

“Steal Viking?”

“You heard Parker, we’d have bragging rights forever. I bet we’d get free drinks atRumrunner.”

“What’sRumrunner?”

“It’s a speakeasy. We’ll go there for our first girls’ night out.”

My eyes widen. “Our first girls’ night out?”

“Yep.” She grins. “I’ve decided we’re going to be best friends.”

“What if I already have a best friend?”

My best friend couldn’t dump me fast enough when she found out my husband had a thing for hookers and gambling, but I’m not telling Blossom my sad story. Sad stories are meant for late nights when you’ve had too many cosmos and forget to keep your mouth shut. Not for sunny days sitting at a pirate-themed bakery eating yummy treats and petting a cute otter.

“We’ll add her name to the guest list atRumrunner.”

“Guest list?”

“Rumrunneris a speakeasy. If you’re not on the guest list, you have to solve a riddle.” Her nose wrinkles. “I hate riddles.”

“I rather enjoy riddles.”

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