Page 13 of Crazy Thing

Those two little words are a dagger to my chest. Especially coming from the richest guy in this part of the state.Thanks for the reminder, asshole.

But from the way he says it, I can tell he’s not trying to insult me. No. He’s sniffing blood in the water. Like the shark that he is. And he’s about to attack.

It’s what men like Darius and Edison do. They find unsuspecting victims and go in for the kill when they’re at their lowest.But I refuse to be one of his victims.

I stomp across my shop and snatch the letter out of his hand. I’m simmering when a small corner of the paper rips and remains pinched between his fingers.

“You should leave,” I grind out.

Darius steps closer, getting all up in my personal space and disrupting all remnants of my zen. “You’re broke,” he repeats, and I can see the wheels turning in his big, stupid, handsome head.

For a brief sliver of time in my awkward teenage years, Iactually thought that Darius and I were friends. Real friends. But the truth is, that guy has always looked down on the weird little girl with her beads and her bangles and her colorful hair.

Way back then. Andnow,too.

That realization crushes what’s left of my pride.

My nostrils flare as I yell, “Leave!”

“You need me,” he mumbles, his sinister plan still taking form in his brain.

I laugh darkly. “You’resofull of yourself. I don’t need you, Darius Brighton.”

He gives his head a brisk shake. “I…Wait…That came out wrong,” he says.

“No shit,” I bite sarcastically. “Now, leave already.”

He opens his mouth like he’s going to try and reason with me, but I’m not in the mood for negotiations. And if he thinks he’s going to feed me more pathetic lies, he’s sorely mistaken. I want nothing to do with this man.

I grab the nearest thing to me—which ironically just so happens to be an authentic wooden witch’s broom—and I chase after him, smacking him over the head with the straw bristles.

“Ow! Ow!” He runs and weaves back through the aisles. “Stop! Are you insane?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” I shriek. This man makes me certifiably crazy.

I don’t stop chasing and smacking until he bolts out the front exit.I slam the door behind him.

“And don’t come back!”

6

DARIUS

These days, my life is basically a steaming crap sandwich with a pile of shit chips on the side.

This evening, I’m back in Starlight Falls. Working. Always working.

I’m in my office at the converted industrial building I recently acquired to serve as my local headquarters. It’s long after the hours printed on the main door. But right now, I’m on hold with my lawyer. Brimming with impatience, I pace the plush carpet in front of my desk. I’m apparently not paying him enough to answer my calls without his assistant screening me and making me wait.

Speaking of assistants, my own new assistantsucks.

I had to hire the first person I interviewed, mostly because no one else applied. I can’t afford to be picky. I have more work to get through each day than is humanly possible. I can’t be in four or five places at once.

Three? Maybe.But definitely not four or five.

I’m drowning in work. The harsh reality is, I need someone here at my office to at least field calls for me throughout the day.But it seems that finding someonecompetent enough to answer a telephone and write down some notes and put a little appointment on my calendar is just plain out of the question.

And my biggest productivity killer today? I can’t stop thinking about Ziggy Beaumont. Or rather, how I treated her.

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