Brawley: If you need me let me know.
I pocket my phone and wave to Bianca, who is smoking outside on her break.
The convenience store is lit up, and I walk inside to look for Vero. I hear him straight away.
“I’m not asking for much, just chicken nuggets. Six would be good—you don’t even need to make twelve. A half-serve. Oh, a tasting plate.”
“We don’t sell nuggets.”
“You sell hot fries.”
“Yes.”
“So you have a fryer?”
“Also, yes.”
“So what you’re telling me is that you have the fryer, hot oil, and no nuggets. This is a tragedy of epic proportions.”
As I come around to where the counter is, the man is looking at Vero as if he has lost his mind.
I grab a bottle of water and bring it to the counter. “I’ve been told he has been like this his entire life,” I interject. “There is no cure.”
Vero spins around, his smile contagious. “Paper-cut princess, tell him I need nuggets.”
“I am not getting involved in your nugget situation.”
“There shouldn’t even be a nugget situation.” He glares at the man. “Do you know who doesn’t sell nuggets at midnight? Villains and people who don’t want the world to be a better place.”
The man scans my water.
“I will cook nuggets when we get to my place. There are still some left that Brawley brought over with you yesterday.”
His whole mood changes and he loads the snacks from his arms onto the front of the counter.
I pull out my card, but he snatches it from me, producing his own. Once the man rings everything up, Vero pays and hands me back my card.
“I think the lack of nuggets would be a good reason to test those paper cuts.”
I snort and take the bag of snacks, grab Vero by the arm, and drag him out of the store before we get thrown out.
We step outside, and Vero takes the bag and starts rummaging around in it, handing me my water. He then pulls out a bag of sour gummy worms and tears it open, offering me some before he tips some into his mouth.
Vero asks about work and keeps the conversation casual, which is almost alarming, but when we are half a block from my place, that changes.
“I have a business proposal for you.”
“No.”
“You haven’t even heard it yet.”
“I don’t need to. If you’re asking me, that means Brawley said no or you know he will say no.”
“It involves paper cuts, so it’s not his domain—it’s ours. It is a very serious moneymaker. I have done research, and yes, Brawley says it’s a terrible idea, but what does he even know?”
“How do you plan to make money from knowing how many paper cuts it takes to die?”
“We have moved past death; we are now onto tortureand psychological warfare. It’s much more scalable. I pitched it to Banks, and he said, and I am quoting him directly, ‘I have concerns about the liability exposure.’ Which I thought was rich coming from a man who makes cum moisturizer.”