Jerry Takes Charge: An Aisling Grimlock Short by Amanda M. Lee

Author:Amanda M. Lee [Lee, Amanda M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WinchesterShaw Publications
Published: 2019-12-10T06:00:00+00:00

WE STARTED IN THE KITCHEN AT the Dupont house. Whitney’s butler allowed us inside, claiming the mistress of the house was upstairs dealing with party matters, and suggested we knew what to do. I was happy for a few moments alone with Aisling.

“So ... are you going to admit you cheated last night?”

Aisling didn’t look surprised by the question. “No, because I didn’t.”

“You totally cheated. I never lose at Monopoly.”

“That is a bald-faced lie.” She was chirpy as she grabbed a stack of napkins. “What do you want done with these?”

“Swans,” I replied without hesitation, causing her to frown.

“Oh, I hate it when you do origami with the napkins. Can’t you just stack them at the end of the table like a normal person?”

“There will be stacked napkins. There will also be swans, because people love swans.”

“What person loves a swan?” Her hands landed on her hips. “They’re vicious animals. They’re not even pretty.”

“That’s your bird fear talking.”

“I’m not afraid of birds.”

“You are so. Don’t you remember when we were walking in downtown Royal Oak when we were in high school and that bird swooped down and grabbed some of your hair for a nest or something? You totally freaked out. You’ve been afraid of birds ever since.”

Aisling’s mouth dropped open in outrage. “First off, that was a bat. It happened after dark, and it swooped down and ripped out a huge chunk. Second, I’m not afraid of birds. I just don’t like them. They’re weird and loud and you just know that some of them are evil enough to want to peck your eyes out.”

She made me laugh. That was the common thread of our relationship. At the core of everything was love and laughter. Still, the bird thing was weird. “Whatever. I want swans. If you’re going to help you have to create swans.”

“Whatever.” Aisling rolled her eyes but carried the stack of napkins to the counter, hopped on one of the stools and immediately set to folding. When I first started catering parties, I panicked one night about the swan napkins and made her watch a tutorial on YouTube to learn how to do it. She was as adept as me now, though she showed little appreciation for her work.

“Things seem good between you and Griffin,” I noted as I worked. “Better, I mean.”

“Things were never bad between us,” she countered. “Things don’t get bad between us.”

“Perhaps that came out wrong,” I hedged. “What I meant to say was that things were a little tense between you. After what happened ... .” I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say.

“I didn’t die, Jerry,” she supplied. “Everyone acts as if I died and came back to life. That’s not what happened.”

“It’s kind of what happened.”

“Yeah, but ... it’s not what happened. I visited another plane of existence for a few hours. That’s all.”

“What would’ve happened if that guy hadn’t let you come back? It was in his power to stop you.”

“Nobody could’ve stopped me from coming back. I don’t care if that guy was a god like he claimed.

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