Page 11 of Why Cheese?
“—a dumpster. So long.” He gives one last cheery wave, then pushes on the door. Just before passing the last window, Mr. Walker leaps into the air and clicks his heels together.
I pinch the business card between my thumbs and fingers like I’ve found the golden ticket. Five million dollars. What could I do with that much money? Aside from anything I’ve ever wanted. I could travel Europe, visit all of those museums I only saw in bootleg documentaries. Take a biking tour of France and stuff myself on cheese and bread.
Oh my god, I could get my own apartment!
You’ll burn it down.
The gremlin scratches across my cerebellum.
All that money, up in smoke. Turn the lock. Five times. Has to be five or else.
A sharp pain shoots up my arm. I pull my nails away to find a red sore welling up through my sickly pale skin. Rocking back and forth on my knees, I bite my lip. I can ignore this. I don’t need to lock the door.
Everything’s fine.
It’s not like a knife-wielding maniac is going to run in here and steal my spleen.
She’ll die and it’ll be all your fault.
Yelping, I dive for the lock like my life depends on it. Scraping the metal with the key, I need a few goes before I line the key up, then I lock it tight. The itch scratches harder and I turn it again, and again. Always five. Sometimes, it has to be in sets of five until I get it right. It’s the only way to stop the gremlin…for a few hours, anyway until it finds a new ritual to torture me with.
I take a deep breath, the voice receding. Down the street, the lights begin to flicker to life as the sun dips below the tall buildings. Five million. That doesn’t seem possible. How long can I live on that much money?
“Twenty goddamn years!” a voice rages out of nowhere.
It’s not real. I made them up. There’s no one in here with me.
“Calm down already. We don’t know—”
For not being real, these voices are very loud and angry.
Clutching tight to my phone, I reach to dial nine-one-one. Slowly, I turn in place. Roq stands before the counter fuming while Cam clutches his arm. Both are staring at the ground. I follow their gaze and my brain shatters.
A robust log of cheddar cheese starts to rock back and forth on its own. No one’s near it. I can’t feel a breeze pushing it, or an earthquake shaking the whole store. Just as the cheese topples onto its side, a naked man pops into existence. Thick veins pulse through the flexing muscles and tanned skin. I force my gaze up his meaty thighs, thin hips, solid stomach, and wide shoulders. Just as I’m about to reach his face, my eyes pull me right back to his cock swaying in the breeze. The free-hangingsalamistarts to twitch and rise, the dark vein directing me back up.
Cheddy runs a hand back through his hair, then he raises it to me. “Hi, Vi!”
Oh, god.
My knees give out and I hit the ground.
CHAPTER FOUR
Gruyére Guys
“YOU…” I HOBBLE to my elbows and scoot back over broken shelves, wood scattering behind me. My quivering gaze drifts from Cheddy’s massive grin to the ground where a block of cheddar vanished. “And it…”
“Where’s Mateo?” Roq leaps into my line of sight, his face gnarled in anger.
My purse rings, drawing the curiosity of Cam who’s back in his black leather. After digging through my bag, he pulls out the still-screaming phone. “What do I do?”
Put that down. It’s not yours!
The words tap at the back of my skull, but all my lips can form is, “Cheese?”
“It’s been twenty years!” Roq fumes.
“Oh? Yes, hello yourself?” Cam says, placing my phone in front of his mouth.
