Page 25 of The HalloQueen

TOMMY: What?

ANNABEL: Mermaids. Are they real?

TOMMY: Sirens are real. Though they certainly aren’t wearing seashell bras and trying to work through their daddy issues.

ANNABEL: So sirens, like, ancient Greece, lure you to your death.

TOMMY: Oui. Nasty beasts.

ANNABEL: They might say the same about you, you know.

TOMMY: I have no doubt they do. We don’t tend to enjoy sharing the same waters.

I plopped down into the beanbag, prepared to word dump all over him.

ANNABEL: Unicorns?

TOMMY: Non.

ANNABEL: Fae?

TOMMY: We don’t talk about them.

ANNABEL: Leprechauns?

TOMMY: Annoying little bastards.

ANNABEL: Werewolves?

TOMMY: Oui. Lived with one for a while, great guy, but I couldn’t get past the wet dog smell.

That made me laugh out loud.

ANNABEL: What do I smell like?

TOMMY: You smell divine.

I considered that for a moment and decided to accept the compliment and circle back.

ANNABEL: Loch Ness Monster?

That one took him a few more moments to reply, and I burst into laughter at what I saw pop up on my screen.

TOMMY: I’m not at liberty to say.

Another text came through before I could reply.

TOMMY: I can’t spill all our secrets via text. You’re going to have to work for some of the answers.

I gnawed on my bottom lip absentmindedly.

ANNABEL: And how would one earn answers?

TOMMY: We can discuss tonight over dinner if you’d like.

ANNABEL: Am I on the menu?

TOMMY: Non, amour, I thought I could cook for you.

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