Page 112 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

“What happened?” I asked.

She stared at me for a long moment, her gaze searching, almost unnervingly intense. Then she shrugged.

“I always assumed you went for his looks. Nothing more.”

I gave a single, slow nod.

“That does make more sense, doesn’t it?”

A short, dry laugh escaped her, and finally, she left.

The moment the front door clicked shut, I exhaled, pulled out my phone, and scheduled the locks to be changed.

I didn’t trust that woman one bit.

“I couldn’t get the cocktail recipe,” Naija said, frustration threading through her voice as I opened the door and we stepped outside. The icy chill hit me immediately. The parking lot stretched beneath a washed-out sky, rows of cars gleaming dully beneath the pale afternoon sun.

“Is it one of those secret-recipe things he’s not allowed to share?” I asked, handing her the car keys.

She shook her head. “No. It’s just an ‘annoying cousins’ thing. He’s being difficult because he can.” A look of pure determination settled over her face. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it.”

I shrugged and slipped on my sunglasses. “Eh, it’s fine. Just let me know where your cousin’s next event is and whether that cocktail’s on the menu.”

Naija shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, but before she could answer, a voice cut through the air from our left.

“I lost my job because of you!” Cassandra shouted.

We didn’t break stride.

“Get another one,” I replied without so much as glancing in her direction.

Apparently, that wasn’t the answer she was hoping for.

Cassandra lunged into our path, forcing us to stop. “How dare you force him to fire me?” she hissed, her face twisted with rage. “I always knew you were controlling him! I had a hunch, and now I have proof. You manipulative, controlling bitch!”

Naija shifted subtly beside me, her body coiling into a protective stance.

I just sighed.

“What are you screaming at me for?” I asked, meeting Cassandra’s wild eyes with sheer exhaustion. “Are you here for a job? Is that it? I don’t have any openings right now. And even if I did, I wouldn’t hire you. So, are we done?”

Her expression curdled, fury souring her features into something truly ugly. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you? You’re not. What you are is—”

“I am funny.”

“—is irritating. You’re fucking irritating and annoying!”

A genuine, cavernous yawn escaped me before I could stop it.

Naija glanced over, her brow furrowing with concern. “Are you not sleeping well?”

I shook my head, rubbing my temple.

“I need to replace my heater. My bed is like a block of ice no matter what I do.”

“One of my cousins can get you a good deal on a—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Cassandra shrieked, her voice cracking.