Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Mr. Tom stepped up as we got closer. “You look extravagant, miss. Very eye-catching.”
I knew “eye-catching” was his way of saying I stuck out like a sore thumb. Good. There hadn’t been any hope of my fitting in. I might as well stand out.
“Are the leaders all tucked inside?” I asked.
“Yes, miss. They’ve been served their drink of choice and are waiting impatiently for you to arrive.”
“And the trucks, are they ready?”
“Ready and waiting, miss.”
“Fantastic.” I stepped away and onto the red carpet, facing outward to address the crews. I magically increased the volume of my voice. “It has come to my attention that the gargoyle way is to let you all hang out here while the leaders eat and drink inside.” I paused for a moment and spread my hands. “But not everyone here is a gargoyle. Shifters would have a big BBQ. But we aren’t all shifters. My crew would have a garden party on the Ivy House grass, lately while avoiding the homicidal gnomes and animated dolls. But we aren’t at Ivy House. One of the leaders in particular is mighty glad of that.”
A smattering of nervous laughter sounded from the gargoyles. Wings fluttered in the Gimerel team.
“So I decided that tonight we should compromise.” I lifted my hand, knowing Mr. Tom had the first truck driver on hold on his phone and would give the command.
Sure enough, a food truck pulled around the corner. “Who is interested in the almighty burger? With this food truck, you have options ranging from gourmet to Plain Jane, like I used to be. Dress it up or dress it down—it is entirely up to you.” The next truck rolled around the corner. “More of a taco crowd? We’ve got you covered. Tacos and burritos and other authentic Mexican street fare with a fine-dining spin. Marinated pork, braised beef—you won’t want to miss this.”
The next truck pulled through, this one a regular truck with a camper shell, pulling a wood brick oven on a trailer that had originally lived out back and probably shouldn’t have been moved. Alas, showmanship.
“A food truck paradise wouldn’t be complete without a wood-fire oven. We have Neapolitan-inspired pizzas for you.” I waited for them to get settled a little before the next truck pulled into sight. “Did someone say lobster truck? Yes, I think they did. Delicious, buttery lobster rolls, lobster bisque, you name it. But don’t forget the crab! My favorite is the herb-crusted crab cake bites dipped in their homemade creamy sauce. Yum.”
That truck parked in the nondescript field on the edge of the property. This space didn’t have enough room for us to be posh about the situation.
My stomach rumbled as the last food truck rolled through. “Who could forget dessert? Gourmet French-bakery-inspired desserts that taste as good as they look.”
My team walked out next, dressed down and carrying coolers, pushing an alcohol cart, and bringing out plates and condiments.
“The alcohol and wine selection is unfortunately limited,” I said, “but there should be plenty for an unprofessional buzz that you’ll try your best to hide when it’s time to head back. Please have as much as you want. Of everything. It’s all taken care of, and we have more than enough to go around.” I paused for a moment, letting the excited murmurs die down. “Thank you for coming, everyone. Really. Despite whatever tomfoolery went on with me and your leaders, I’d like you to know that you are all welcome here, at any time. I don’t know your customs yet, I won’t abide by some of your ways, but I’m proud to join you on this magical journey. I’m proud to call myself a gargoyle, and I look forward to the battles yet to come, hopefully with you rather than against you. May your trip home be fraught with danger”—laughter was louder now, and more than one fist rose in the air—“and may we someday meet on the field of battle.”
I held up a hand in a farewell salute, about to turn around. A loud round of applause stopped me. Feeling the moment, I lowered my hand to my heart and offered them a little bow.
“Right this way, miss.” Mr. Tom appeared by my side, ushering me toward the restaurant.
Austin held out his arm for me, and I took it, allowing him to lead us to the door. We were nearly there when he stiffened slightly, slowing.
It took me a moment to pick out the enormous shape standing beside the door, blending into the building. Austin must’ve felt his presence.
Tristan stepped forward, his suit immaculate, with shiny black lapels, a black dress shirt, and a black tie with white polka dots and matching pocket square.
“Miss Ironheart,” Tristan said, offering a bow. “Might I have a word?”
“Uh…yeah, sure.” I smoothed the jewels down my front. “We’re not going to fight, though, right? This jewelry is too heavy to be running around in. It would probably give me a black eye.”