Page 65 of So Not My Thing
He opened his mouth like he was about to argue, hesitated, then pushed away from the counter. “Fair enough. Thanks for helping me find this place. I’ll see you around, Ellie.”
The door had no sooner closed behind him than it opened to admit Miss Mary. “Hey, honey,” she said. “What are you doing back here?”
“Scooping up the last of the gumbo so I can clean this kettle for you.”
“Leave it. My grandkids will do it.”
“I don’t want any of you to have to do any more work tonight. You’ve earned the right to relax completely.”
“Ihave,” she said, “and you have too, but a little work won’t kill those grandbabies. Leave it for them. Honestly.” Her tone said clearly that she wasn’t going to argue about it.
I hung the ladle on the lip of the kettle. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Go on and wash your hands so I can give you something.”
She hustled to the small office at the back of the kitchen, but I wasn’t sure why since she’d cleaned it out as surely as she had the rest of the place. I washed my hands, and when she emerged, she handed me a white envelope. “Take this and follow the directions.”
“What directions?”
She nodded her head at it. “Now I’m going to go enjoy one last dance with my kids. Mind leaving me and Harold to lock up one last time? I’ll leave the keys on your doorstep.”
“Of course not.”
“Bye, baby. I’ll call you when my book is done.” And she slipped back out to the restaurant.
I looked down at the envelope. It had my name printed in her curly script, and beneath it, just four words:Open in three months.
What in the world?
Chapter Seventeen
Nothing could haveconvinced me to go downstairs for the next week, and I mean nothing. Not the most powerful gris-gris. Not money, love, or the possibility of saving the world from destruction. N.o.t.h.i.n.g.
I didn’t want to deal with any weird Miles vibes. I didn’t want to discuss our almost-kiss on the dance floor. And honestly, I didn’t want to have to deal with all the demolition noise that started at eight o’clock sharp on Monday morning. They had to gut parts of the place to put in the soundproofing before I could have the blessed silence Miles had promised.
But in reality, avoiding downstairs—and Miles—became a non-issue by Tuesday evening when I returned home after work and found a fancy cream envelope tucked into my doorframe with my name on it, and an identical one tucked into my neighbor’s doorframe across the hall.
