Inn & Out (A Romantic Comedy) (Five More Wishes Book 2) Read Free Page A

that. What I mean to say is: Funny how things don’t work out. How things crash and burn and explode like the Empire’s Death Star. I mean, the Death Star took a lot of work, and it had to be a big bummer for Darth Vader to have it blown up under his nose.
    All right. Bad example. Darth Vader probably deserved it. But I don’t deserve to have my dreams dashed. I was so close to finally getting my life on track. Then, boom, splat, kapow. My life is a whole list of comic book words.
    After the meeting, Thor grabs his key and marches down the stairs at a fast clip. He marches everywhere all the time, like he’s perpetually on parade on Veterans Day. I run after him, but weighted down by my duffel bag, I struggle to keep up, and where he’s wearing sensible work boots, one of my bedazzled flip-flops gets caught on a stair, and I have to backtrack to slip it back on. To top it all off, my duffel knocks into Wonder Woman Apple Head, a special edition doll by the front door, and I have to help return it to its invisible plane. By the time I make it outside, Thor is halfway around the Plaza, getting into a golf cart. I run as fast I can while crimping my toes to keep my flip-flops on, finally catching up to him.
    “This is your car?” I ask about the golf cart. He ignores me and starts it up. I run around to the driver’s side and put my hand on the steering wheel.
    “Wait. Wait. Let’s talk about this.”
    He turns off the cart and leans back, looking at his hands. “What do you want to talk about?”
    “You stole my inn!” I screech at the top of my lungs. I probably need to change my strategy. I don’t do the diplomatic thing so well. I’ve heard that you get more flies with honey than you do with vinegar, but I’ve never had a chance at one fly, and now that I’ve got a whole swarm of them within reach, a Viking god is going to swipe them all away from me. “I mean, you stole my inn,” I say in a quiet, calm voice, doing my best at diplomacy.
    Thor starts the golf cart, again. I run around to the passenger side and hop on. “Where do you think you’re going?” I demand.
    “To my inn.”
    “Not your inn. My inn.”
    He takes a deep breath. “I don’t like losing my temper,” he says calmly.
    I get in his face. “Oh, big man is getting mad. Big man is getting real mad,” I say in probably the most irritating, annoying way imaginable. My mouth is up against his ear, and I sound like I’m twelve years old and have been told that I can’t go to a Beyoncé concert. I’m not proud of my behavior, but I’ve never been in control my whole life, and just when I thought I was the master of my universe, the universe imploded, and I’m left with being master of nothing. Not even an atom.
    Thor turns his head so that we’re face to face, our eyes so close that he looks like he has four, and I can smell his breath. Oatmeal and chocolate milk. “I’m this close to pushing you out of my cart,” he threatens.
    “I’ll call the cops.”
    “What do you want?”
    “I want to sell my inn, invest my money, and live a happy life.”
    “Fine,” he says.
    “Fine?” my heart leaps into my throat, and a bubble of happiness bursts in my brain. “Really?”
    “When I get the inn up and running and turning a profit, I’ll buy you out. I don’t think staying in business with you is such a good idea, anyway.”
    My brain swirls and turns, trying to make heads or tails out of his offer. “You’ll buy me out?”
    “I’ll buy you out.”
    “How about you buy me out now?” I ask.
    “I don’t have any money.”
    Swell. “How long until you have the money?”
    “Not long. A year or two.”
    My hopes and dreams come crashing down around me, again. “Are you kidding?” I screech. “I can’t wait that long. I have thirty-seven dollars in the whole world. Wait a minute. No I don’t. I have eighteen dollars after the ferry ride. How can I survive with only eighteen dollars?”
    Thor puts the cart into drive.