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The Happiest of Hot Sauces

“Okay,” I say, more to myself than to those watching. “Okay. So, I believe I’ve come up with a way to solve our cash flow issues.”

Marcelo, my relationship broker, the man who is here to find me husbands and consorts of my own, raises his eyebrows. This is his signature expression. “We discussed a few options the other day. What did you come up with?”

I blink as I remember what we talked about, breeding designer animals. Lia, the person I put in charge of our current pig shipping situation, and all-around helpful crew mate, would love to breed designer animals I’m sure, but…

“It’s nothing we spoke of already.”

My nervousness has tied up my tongue, and I don’t know how to start. Then the condiments on the table catch my attention. I jump forward to grab Dad’s hot sauce and hold it up.

“You want to make hot sauce and sell it?” Skylar’s eyebrows match Marcelo’s now. She’s dubious.

“Not just any hot sauce, though. You see…” I take a seat across from them. “I used to think my dad made all of those trips to Rio for fun, you know? Backpacking with friends. Getting drunk without my mom around. But… but it turns out he was a lot more adventurous than I gave him credit for.”

I set the bottle down on the table, and Lia’s eyes grow wide.

“There’s something in that hot sauce, right? It’s spiked?”

I nod slowly. “Before I left Ossun, Dad took me out into the woods and dug up a box full of seeds he’s been collecting for the last ten years. Seeds he discovered on Rio, in the jungles. And guys?” I laugh, letting the chuckle turn rueful. “You would not believe what some of these seeds do.”


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S. J. Pajonas