One Whopper of a Love Story: A Sweet Romantic Comedy: Never Say Never, #7

Chapter 1

Layla

Iwas supposed to turn left when I saw the donkeys. But there weren’t any donkeys near that corner even though it felt like my turn. Maybe they’d wandered back to the barn. That idea didn’t occur to me until just now. Dang it.

Choosing a landmark that couldn’t move would have been smarter.

Leaning forward, I scanned the landscape. Nothing looked familiar, but I’d been looking at the donkeys, not the barn. I probably should have trusted my gut and turned left back there.

Are you still there, Layla? Lettie asked.

I adjusted the phone in the holder. The flimsy plastic holder wasn’t doing a great job of keeping my phone still. There was probably a loose screw or something. Yeah. Just a bit lost. I sipped my Vanilla Dr Pepper. If anything could get the gray matter firing, it was Dr Pepper. But anyway, it wasn’t a kids party.

What? Someone booked a mermaid for an adult par—oh! Lettie gasped. What happened?

Nothing really. A few guys got a little handsy. But one guy—I almost gave him my number but then remembered that I’d given up impulsivity this year—told me where the back door was, then distracted the guys so I could slip out. I’m just mad. And lost. How many stupid little roads are there in the Hill Country?

Do you want a count of all roads or just the stupid ones?

Not helpful. What was really funny was stopping at Sonic. I got one of the really big drinks, and you’d think a mermaid had never pulled through the drive-thru before. I didn’t bother to tell her that not even a mile down the road, I’d managed to drop the lid onto the floorboard and was now living dangerously with a large open cup in my car. It was begging to be spilled.

She laughed. You’re probably the first. But the guy who helped sounds nice. Maybe you should have given him your number.

First of all, it’s only February, and my resolution was to curb impulsiveness for a whole year. Second, if he’s hanging out with all those guys, I’m not sure I want him to have my number.

True. Well, I’m sorry it was a flop. You going to be okay?

Absolutely. I’m going to pull a U-turn when I find a wide spot, then head home and get out of this costume. Or maybe I could find my way to Stadtburg by a different road. I spotted a small road on the left and turned, hoping something would start to look familiar. If not, I’d turn around.

At least it wasn’t dark. Yet.

If it weren’t for that stupid frat party, I wouldn’t be lost in the maze of paved cow paths. What sort of overgrown boys booked a mermaid for their friend’s birthday party? Two minutes after I’d arrived, it had been evident that my definition of entertainment and their definition differed greatly. If they’d wanted a stripper, they should have hired one. My talents included making balloon animals—just dogs and flowers—and singing children’s songs. I’d tried making the other balloon animals, but they took more skill than I could muster. All I had for my hours of practice were lots of popped balloons and a wicked startle reflex.

I pulled to the edge of the road and opened my phone. It was time to get help from my map app. After studying the screen and turning my phone in a complete circle until I was pretty sure that left meant south, I stuck the phone back in the holder. The plastic gadget was cheap, but it mostly did the job of holding my phone.

With the radio turned down, I eased back onto the road and kept going, inching along and hoping for a familiar landmark.

A board appeared in the road out of nowhere, and I didn’t react fast enough to actually avoid it. The bump knocked my phone loose from the holder, and my pretty little phone landed in my over-sized cup with a horrifying splash.

I grabbed the top of the cup, slammed on the brakes, and somehow managed not to spill Dr Pepper everywhere. With my foot on the brake, I fished my phone out and dropped the dripping wet phone into the cupholder.

When I passed a store, I’d buy rice. I could only hope that would save my phone. Getting a new one right now wasn’t in my budget.

I eased back onto the road, but something wasn’t right. The car leaned funny, and there was a thumping sound when I moved. I sped up, and the thump became more frequent. I slowed down, and the noise slowed. After less than two minutes, I pulled off to the side again. This time I made sure I was all the way into the grass.

Holding my tail up out of the grass, I waddled around to the passenger side. A flat tire.

There wasn’t much I could do about it dressed like this. Even in normal clothes, I wasn’t good at changing a tire. I knew the basics of how, but the last time I’d even tried, I hadn’t been able to undo the lug nuts or whatever those things are called.

This was a bad time to have a wet phone. How long would it take for it to dry out enough to use? Too long.

My grand plan for starting over in Stadtburg, where almost no one knew me, wasn’t going horribly, but great wasn’t the word I’d use to describe it either.

My tendency toward giggling and impulsive decisions was often misinterpreted, and I hated being labeled as stupid. If I were tall and had no curves, would the same assumptions be made?

With a wet phone and a flat tire, I had few options. My best option was to walk to get help. Probably my only option. But I didn’t like that option since I was wearing a mermaid costume.

As I waddled down the road with my lobster purse hooked over my shoulder, I assessed my recent choices. They weren’t all stupid.

For instance, the lobster purse was perfect with this outfit. It added to the theme. Besides, who didn’t love lobster? I liked mine with butter and served beside a steak.

Going to breakfast with the older hottie I’d met in the grocery store was a mistake. Dating someone in their fifties was a bad idea in general. But I’d ignored his age because he was tall and broad shouldered, and I had a thing for tall and broad-shouldered men. He’d also had steaks in his shopping cart, but no lobster.

Because I was short, tall included a lot of men.

At least the old guy had been a gentleman, and he was a fabulous cook. Best steak I’d ever had. That shouldn’t have been surprising since he was a chef, but because he looked like a rancher, I’d been shocked. His friends were nice though. I saw them from time to time around town. I saw him too, but he’d only nod then find someplace else to focus.

It was obvious he thought inviting me over had been a mistake.

Thinking about my bad decisions would only depress me. And considering I was waddling along the side of the road in a mermaid costume, I didn’t need that right now. This was an all-around bad day.

Good decisions. I needed to think about my good decisions. Brightening the lives of children was a great thing, but that hadn’t ended well. I needed to think about a good decision that didn’t include a downside.

Working at the doughnut shop.

Applying to work at Sweet’s was a great decision. I’d been there a month, and it was going really well. Not only did I enjoy the job, but I met new people every day.

The sun sank closer to the horizon, and I kept walking. Hopefully it wouldn’t be completely dark by the time I made it to a house.

Who would I call when I got to a phone? That was limited to the phone numbers I could actually remember. My mom rattled off numbers and amazed us all. But back in her day, speed dial wasn’t really a thing.

Lettie was out of town. My sister was too. My boss would probably help me, but I didn’t know Tessa’s number. Plus, she was probably locking lips with her hot boyfriend in the hot tub. I wouldn’t call her.

I’d just have to call a ride share service. Did they even pick up in places this far out of town?

As the sun hovered just above the horizon, I trekked down the road, trying to avoid the puddles left over from yesterday’s rain. I wasn’t always successful. Walking in a mermaid costume was more difficult than I anticipated, and now I’d have to pay to have this thing cleaned.

Pain stabbed at my ankle, and I swiped at my leg before looking to see what was causing the pain. But then another stab jolted me. This time I looked for the culprit. No! An ant clung to my ankle biting me and stabbing with his butt. Fear rippled through me. I did not need this right now.

In the fading light, I slapped at my ankle and scanned the ground. When I spotted the mound, I jumped away from the ants I’d just disturbed with my tail. Then I