Traded Me for Luck
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Summary
My café, The Midnight Quill, opens only from 1 to 3 a.m. We’re known for the Oblivion Latte.
Tonight, the bell chimed and in walked my husband, Julian. His eyes were bloodshot. He didn’t recognize me behind the mask.
“I heard you can make a wish here,” he said hoarsely.
He stepped closer. “I want to trade my lifetime of luck.”
My heart skipped. Just yesterday, I’d told him my luck had run out this year. Had he really listened?
A flicker of warmth rose, but his next words froze it. “In exchange, I want Daisy blessed with good fortune, always.”
