Page 19 of Royal Havoc

My brows dip, praying a 9-1-1 call isn’t in our near future. “Are you —”

Shaking her head, giggling oddly to herself. “Sorry, thought I heard the oven timer. Wouldn’t want burnt cupcakes smelling up the joint,” she chuckles, tapping on the screen in front of her. “Anything else?” Making an odd but quick recovery.

“Um… a chocolate chip muffin,” I answer, almost forgetting my growling belly.

“Right. Of course, eight bucks,” she tells me before rushing away.

If I had to guess, I’d say she’s in her late twenties, even though she appears kiddish with dark makeup. Her twisted, messy buns reveal her blue and green hair underneath.

Total girly Harley Quinn vibes.

She places the purple to-go cup on the counter, presses the shiny red lid on top, and slides it towards me along with the small bag.

Giggling as she hands me the black card back. “Funny, you don’t look like a Hendrix.”

The sound of his name has my belly twisting into knots. “Unfortunately, I kinda do.” I mumble quietly, dropping the card in my purse before grabbing my order.

Instead of leaving, I maneuver my way to the back, taking a seat beside one of the windows.

I’m not even sure where to start. I’m here in this tiny coffee shop because I’m deflecting reality. Trying to find some clarity that…

“Mind if I sit?” the girl from behind the counter asks, smiling down at me shyly.

Yes, I mind!

“Sure,” I answer, turning my head to glare out the window.

“I thought you were leaving,” she says, placing a small plate in front of me. “For your muffin.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, hoping she’ll get the hint that I want to be alone.

“I’m surprised to see…” her words trail off as her blue eyes skim over me. “Someone as fancy as you around these parts,” she finishes timidly.

I’m anything but fancy!

Taking in the rundown view outside. “What’s this place called?” I ask, holding her stare.

She fidgets with a napkin. “The Purple Cup,” she answers.

“Love the play on words, BTW.” Raising my to-go cup. “It’s the perfect cup,” I tell her, making her blush. “But, I meant the town.”

“Devil Ridge,” she answers quickly, jumping to her feet when the bells tinkle, announcing a new customer. “I’m Amy. Welcome tomyplace,” she tells me before bouncing back behind the counter.

I stroll through the shop, deciding the clarity I’m searching for isn’t something I’ll find here, at least not today.

“Come back again,” she calls to my back before I reach the door.

By the time I’m back at the cottage, I’ve decided the coffee’s made with crack, and the muffins are a voodoo creation.

A nap’s good for the soul!

Unless you wake up hours later in a twisted version of reality. First, it looks like a small animal tried to nest in the mess on my head, which brings me circling back to my crazy reality.

Who knows, I wear strawberry hydrating chapstick?

I’ve checked three times since waking up just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. The entire cottage is stocked with food I like, face products, soaps, lotions… the list goes on and on. But it wasn’t this way when I left earlier. Was it…?

Shit!

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