We were doing fine without it.
Then Ash got engaged.
And now the bracelet is here. The cursed bracelet. Is. Here. With. Luna. Who is also my ex and possibly my baby-mama.
What on earth have you done, Granny?
“Let me guess,” I say breathlessly. “That was brought here by an elderly lady who happens to be my grandmother, ostensibly to have some work done to it.”
Luna pales, and her hands curl around the counter. I refuse to look at them since they’ll probably dredge up a thousand memories I don’t need to be assaulted by.
“No. It was mailed, actually, and prepaid. To be cleaned. The pick-up date was today at noon.”
“So, it was sent anonymously?”
“Of course,” she hisses. “Don’t you think I’d remember what your grandmother looks like? If she came in here, I would have recalled. If she’d signed her name on the letter, it would have meant something.”
“She was sneaky. That’s so like Granny. Always interfering in other people’s lives and matchmaking.”
“M…matchmaking?” Luna chokes. “Uh, no. That’s not happening.” She picks up the purple pouch and practically chucks it at me. I catch it easily since I’m fairly athletic. “It’s already been paid for. The money she sent covered everything. Now, please leave. I have to lock up.”
“Your hours say you’re open until six.”
“Today’s a special day. I have, uh, something going on this afternoon, business elsewhere. It’s just me, so when that happens, I close.”
“That’s not a very solid business model. You should hire someone.”
She frowns so hard that her brows literally touch. It’s a remarkable talent I’ve never known anyone but Luna to have. Also, I didn’t get that frown often. No, most of the time, she had a ready, warm smile for me. Good lord, she loved me with abandon.
Memory train alert. Dangerous. Get. Off. Now. Imminent derailment. Warning. Warning.
“Right. I remember you always have a business plan for me, but it turns out I’m doing alright following my own advice, and people do want to buy the things I make. Turns out that old junk, as you termed it, actually has a market.”
I shake my head, not wanting to get into my own past idiocy at the moment. The bag in my hand suddenly feels like it weighs a ton, and it’s as if it’s been filled with magical hefty boulders. Good gravy, is it getting hot?
The lights flicker overhead, and we both look up at the same time. My breath catches while Luna huffs as she points up. “They’ve been doing that all morning. Nothing to worry about.”
No, it’s just this cursed bracelet you know nothing about because it was given to me after we’d already broken up. A bracelet my cunning, conniving, and crazy grandmother sent here, which you were WEARING when I walked in here.
I have the sudden urge to drop the pouch or run out the door and hurl it as far as I can. With my luck, though, it would somehow end up back here, on Luna’s wrist. Wouldn’t that just be an epic disaster? Where was I going with this? Oh, right. It’s better if I hold on to the cursed mumbo-jumbo for the moment. Keep it safe, under wraps, and locked away.
I have no idea how Granny got the bracelet out of my house, but then again, she’s been over a few times in the past few months. She could have lifted it at any time since she knows I keep it in the top drawer of my dresser, next to my gotch and collection of watches.
Ugh. I shudder, knowing my granny went diving through my underwear drawer. There are just some lines that shouldn’t be crossed.
I get back on board with remembering the next issue I need to address. The paternity issue. How could I have allowed myself to be distracted? The bag now feels even hotter in my hands, and the lights flicker again. Holy curse, I need to call an emergency meeting with my cousins.
I drop my voice to a harsh rasp of a whisper and say, “We need to have a conversation.”
Luna crosses her arms. She’s wearing a lacy black blouse, and the thing she’s doing with her arms pushes up her ample breasts. She’s tall, with flowing curves. The first time I ever saw her, I thought she was stunning. I think I nearly fell on my face because I was watching her and not where I was going. I remember thinking I would do just about anything humanly possible to get her to look at me. No, wait, I have to avoid the memory train. Or more like get the bloody hell off it.
“What about? You have your bracelet. So please leave.”
The bag is so hot now that I feel like it might actually combust right on my palm. I resist the urge to throw it to the floor. “You know what about.”