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Maybe literally.
I don’t know about unlucky, but Cassadina is often clumsy at best. She’s a nice girl. The kind of misunderstood person who probably often gets mistaken for a bit of an ice queen because she’s shy. Also, Ayana has told me that Cass is afraid to get to know people because she’s scared her bad luck will rub off on them or that associating with her will get them killed. Yes, really. Apparently, there was an incident with her ex and a piano being moved, and it fell and just about took them out. Of course, Cass would take that personally because, by then, she had a track record of unfortunate accidents and whatnot.
I know very few things about Cass because it’s not my business to learn. Ooey, gooey things, including romance and Granny’s sappy plans, are not for me. What do I know about Cass? She’s pretty, tall, and curvy, she works at some marketing job, and she likes those bubblegum-flavored bottle candies. I know because they happen to be my favorite too.
I’ve been adamant that I won’t go there—there being anywhere near Cass in a getting-to-know and being interested even as friends kind of way, just because I know that whatever Granny says, that’s her objective. Alden and Ransom found women who get them when we never thought a normal life was really possible for any of us, and all of a sudden, my badass granny has turned into a mushy banana, softie granny who believes in true love and great-grandchildren.
Fucking sigh.
At this point, if a piano dropped on me, it would probably be doing me a favor.
Especially if it was a nice, artsy-looking one painted with bananas because why the heck not? It would be no more ridiculous than this forced-upon-me lunch I’m about to embark on.
CHAPTER 3
Cass
I stare up at the big, blinking neon sign, a little surprised and a heck of a lot more amused. Bottom Line Pawn. How very inventive.
I pull open the door and enter the building. It’s one of those bunker-type-looking buildings that is made of concrete block and has bars at the big windows. Okay, so maybe it’s not a bunker, exactly. I think all concrete block just reminds me of that. This one has a tad bit more cheer than most, considering the blocks have been painted scarlet, and the flashing sign at the front is very retro.
“Hi, can I help you?” A younger woman flounces up to me, her thick, mahogany ponytail swinging behind her with every step. She’s wearing a pawnshop T-shirt with the words Bottom Line Pawn in big letters, and then below that: Where the bottom line is our specialty.
I cover my mouth with my hand because I’m pretty sure that’s a turd below the words, and it has a developed set of buns in jeans. I mean, I could be wrong. It could be a nuggety chocolate bar stripped of its wrapper, some kind of fig, or a very strange-looking cigar or something.
“Um, is that poo?” I blurt before I can make my mouth shut up and not say embarrassing things. I have no choice but to point at the shirt after.
“No. It’s supposed to be a line. With a bottom. For the bottom line.”
“Oh, I see.”
The girl sighs. “I think it might be possible that people are getting confused by the logo. It would explain the poo in the jar that got brought in here a short while ago.”
“Poo in a jar? Someone wanted to pawn that?”
“No, they didn’t want it back. They were looking to sell it.”
“I can’t say I knew that was a thing.”
The girl huffs. “Believe me. I would rather not have known. Anyway, is there anything I can help you find?”
“Yes, actually. Lennox.”
“Sure. He’s in the back. I can go get him.”
“Thanks.”
She nods and walks off. I watch her round the counter and disappear into the back. I glance around, swaying lightly on the balls of my feet, then rocking down on my heels. I guess I do this when I’m nervous. I wore flats because heels would make this feel like something it’s not. I did it for that reason alone and to remind myself this wasn’t a date. It’s only about getting lunch with an old friend who just happens to be not so old, and not so much a friend, just so I can have enough luck and maybe enough confidence to pass my driver’s test, which is in two days. If I think about it, I’m going to ruin my appetite with nerves. Instead, I focus on the strange trove of treasures in the display case. There is everything from jewelry to old books, an ancient deck of cards, a silver flashlight, and a set of Victorian boots in that one case.
As I go to move on, looking up toward the wall, Lennox is suddenly there. I don’t know how he snuck up on me, but he moved like a wraith. “Argh!” I jump back, straight into a display case.
