Page 77 of The Toy Collector

The host barely finishes asking if we need a table for two before Lena shoots him a finger-gun and says, “Yes, please.”

We slide into our usual booth in the back corner, half-hidden behind a ficus plant that’s probably older than we are. Lena’s already waving over the server, not even bothering to glance at the menu.

“Two mimosa pitchers,” she chirps. “One classic, one mango.” Then she adds, “And chocolate waffles. Double portion.”

“Brunch of champions,” I mutter.

Lena narrows her eyes at me. “You’re being weird.”

I blink. “I’m not.”

“You are.” She leans in, elbows on the table. “You texted me SOS like your uterus was on fire, then showed up looking like a villainess from a spy movie. I mean, those boots?” She gestures under the table. “Iconic. But also, deeply alarming.”

I exhale a shaky laugh, fiddling with the edge of my napkin. “Okay, fine. I’m… spiraling a little.”

“That’s what mimosas are for. Spill.”

The server returns with two tall pitchers and two champagne flutes. Lena waits until he’s gone, then digs around in her bag and pulls out a small silver flask. She glances around before pouring a generous glug of vodka into each mimosa glass.

“Subtle,” I comment as I top up our glasses.

“I’m a fucking ninja,” she deadpans, handing me my drink. “Now. Talk.”

I take a sip. The extra vodka hits hard, and I welcome it. “Remember Enzo?”

She arches an eyebrow. “How could I forget when you only told me about him a couple of days ago?”

I suck in a breath and try to gather my thoughts, but they’re a fucking avalanche—loud, fast, and crashing in every direction. Throwing caution to the wind, I dive straight into the heart of the story.

“I had a sex dream last night, and when I woke up this morning, there was a fucking note from him,” I hiss, outrage swirling in my gut. “I think he broke in and… and touched me while I was sleeping.”

Her eyes widen. “Wait. What? He was there?”

I nod, my throat dry.

“Like… in your apartment? While you were asleep?”

I nod again. “Not like it’s the first time he’s broken in,” I hiss, my anger flaring like a fucking bonfire.

“Umm… what?”

Well, fuck. I’d completely forgotten I haven’t told her who Enzo is. For all she knows, he’s just my boss. Then again, since I’ve barely admitted it to myself, I don’t know when I would have told her.

Taking a deep breath, I mentally ready myself for the shit storm I’m about to unleash on my unsuspecting bestie. “Do you remember the puzzle pieces I received?” I ask, nervously biting the inside of my cheek.

“Yeah, of course, Pipes. Have you received more?” She stops talking and looks off to the side, and when her brows furrow, I know she’s slowly piecing it together. “Why do you ask me that now?”

Before I can talk myself out of it, I tell Lena everything. From how I got the internship, to the times I’ve spent kneeling at Enzo’s feet like he’s some enigmatic god that demands my worship. I don’t hold any details back, and I don’t let her interrupt me when I tell her that he broke into my apartment and spanked me.

As I get to the part about the Halloween party, she holds her hand up. “Give me a damn second here. A girl needs time to digest,” she demands.

I dutifully stop talking, nervously picking at my nails as I wait for her to say more. I don’t know how much time passes until she speaks again,but it feels like forever.

“Are you okay? I mean, that’s… holy shit, Pipes, that’s…”

“I know.” I grab my mimosa and drink the rest of it in one go. “It sounds awful. Like, criminal-awful.”

The conversation comes to a crashing halt as the food arrives, and we both dig in like we haven’t eaten in days. The waffles are perfect—crispy edges, melty chocolate, whipped cream.

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