Page 102 of Never To Be Mine

Somewhere on the way home, Dan’s offhand comment circled back around in my head.

I can’t remember the last time I had a fast food burger.

Neither could I. And now I was genuinely curious. We were about to bet big on the idea that our burger could compete with the real thing. I’d taste-tested it against every plant-based competitor on the market. But against an actual, honest-to-God trash burger? The kind millions of people ate every day?

I needed data. Research. Due diligence.

A familiar sign appeared on the right. Curly’s, the national chain with the cartoon pig mascot and the curly fries my brothers and I used to beg for on road trips. I parked and went inside. The place smelled exactly like I remembered—fried everything.

A teenager with a headset took my order with the enthusiasm of someone counting the minutes until his shift ended. I got the signature burger, nothing fancy, no customizations. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. The flagship product, exactly as the average customer got it.

I took my tray outside to one of the plastic tables on the patio. The evening was perfect with a warm breeze blowing the smell of grilled meat around the area. A couple sat two tables over sharing fries, and some guy ate alone in his car with the windows down.

I unwrapped the burger. It looked smaller than the commercials. Flatter. The bun had that squished quality, and the lettuce was wilted.

I took a bite and chewed, letting myself actually taste it instead of just inhaling it. It was fine. Salty. A little sweet from the special sauce. The meat was thin and kind of flavorless on its own. Most of the taste came from the condiments, and the cheese was doing a lot of heavy lifting.

I took another bite. Then another.

No. Our burger was better than this. Not “better for a plant-based burger.” Just flat out better.

Ours had an actual bite to it, a char, a crust. Better flavor, too. Someone could eat one of our burgers with no mayo or ketchup and still enjoy it.

We weren’t going to just compete in this space.

We were going to own it.

33

JUNO

Iwas having a dream about being chased by bees. Then I woke up and realized it was my phone buzzing. It must have been going for a while.

Still half-asleep, I fumbled for it on the nightstand and squinted at the screen. Notifications were stacking up faster than I could process them. Instagram. Twitter. LinkedIn. Email alerts. Text messages. Everything lit up at once.

What the hell?

I sat up, my heart already starting to race even though I didn’t know why yet. If I had gone viral again, I was going to cry.

The first text I saw was from Hollis, sent about an hour ago.

Good morning, beautiful. Going for a run. Talk later. Miss you already.

I smiled despite the chaos on my screen. He and I were good, which was a relief. I scrolled to the next message.

Kari: CALL ME. NOW. I’m already headed to the office.

My stomach dropped. I opened Instagram and immediately saw why my phone was having a meltdown. The top post on my feed was a video someone had taken of Hollis, which promised to be “shocking.”

He was sitting at an outdoor table at what looked like a fast food restaurant, eating a Curly burger. A very obviously greasy, very clearly not plant-based burger.

The caption read: HOLLIS BLACKWELL EATING AT CURLY’S?? The same day he announces his own burger. Guess it must be trash. #Burgergate

I stared at the screen, my brain trying to catch up. The video had over two million views. Two million. And the comments section was a bloodbath.

“So much for that partnership with Young at Heart lol”

“This is hilarious. Man announces a healthy burger and immediately goes to Curly’s. You are what you eat.”