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-B.L.T.

Huh? Discretion?

Are they rich and famous? Is the private chef just for them? Maybe this could become a regular affair and then I would pay Aunt Sherry back in no time.

Please feel free to pick the date, time, and location. Send me the details and I will be there.

-Cinnamon

Anxiety pitter patters through me as I await their response, but more so than that is excitement.

I can do this. My luck is finally turning around.

11

They’re Always After My Lucky Charms

Reuben

Looking up from my computer, I find Orzo pacing across from me.

“Can you stop that? You’re making me nervous.” I throw a notebook at him, but he side steps it at the last minute.

The notebook somehow manages to hit the plate on the shelf behind him, causing it to knock over and fall…

Orzo catches it before it can shatter, offering me a smirk. “I see your misfortune is still in full effect. Speaking of… Three more deaths have popped up.” He puts the plate back up on the shelf before turning back around with flared nostrils. “Green blood pooling out of their eyes.”

Exhaling a calming breath, I shut down my screen. “I have found us a hitman. They are going to meet me at one of my restaurants. I will alert the staff to reserve us a private room.”

Orzo cocks his head, his eerie eyes narrowing. “Who did you find?”

“I think right now”—I get up from my desk, straightening my suit—“the less you know, the better.”

He leans back against my door, a clear sign that he is not done with this conversation. “Who will you target first?”

“There are three Aldentes on the list. I think we should go after them last.” I examine Orzo closer, walking to him.

There’s something decidedly off with him. I first clocked it when I called him early this morning, but watching Orzo now, it’s clear he is distracted.

“What is wrong?” My hand goes up to squeeze his shoulder, but he winces away.

There’s regret mixed in my gut at his reaction. That I didn’t find him sooner. That he had to be tortured by his father before escaping him only in his death.

That a tiny small part of me is grateful for the poison in the drugs that killed Herb.

Followed immediately by guilt.

Orzo fixates over my shoulder as he speaks. “Do you think there’s a chance we can pass our curse along?”

I’m not sure what shocks me more, his acknowledgement that the curse is real, or his question. My hand rubs the back of my neck anxiously. “I suppose,” I reply uneasily.

Orzo’s lips twitch in annoyance. “I mean… What if we were on the correct path but the person we were supposed to be with wasn’t?”

“I don’t see why not.” I shrug a shoulder, my eyes examining his face carefully. The tightness of his jaw, the flaring of his nostrils. “Are you okay?”

Orzo meets my gaze. “No.” And then he flips around, whipping open the door and stomping out of the room.

I know better than to chase after him. Orzo will return when he is ready. When he has let steam out, the only way he knows how.