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He brushes up against me and my good sense and outrage give up and sizzle down into need.
“Magnus,” I whisper, “I thought we agreed this was a bad idea.”
“No one agreed anything. I work in a shop with you. Fire me. Then maybe I’ll ask you out…” His mouth whispers against that sensitive spot under my ear and I moan a little. “Or maybe we can just be two adults, two colleagues who are having a fun evening for a good cause. I like you, Zoey, that’s all.”
My head is spinning. “Magnus—”
“You know what this place needs?” Tuesday Harry says, grinning at us, ruining the moment, saving me from a mistake.
Me and men…I make mistakes. And all my energy is tied up in saving my home, my heritage, my neighborhood.
I smile at Harry. “Do I want to know?”
“A roller disco. All the kids are into it. There’s one in Bed Stuy, just off New York Avenue that’s old school cool. Back in the day, I could really do some roller moves. Got me all the ladies…” He mimes swishing around. Then he gives Magnus a hopeful look. “Is your gran here? I was talking to the organizer. There’s some real money here tonight, and every cent made is going to build a center and help set up dignity services for the old people.”
He says this like he isn’t one.
“How is your dear grandmother?”
“She’s home with a care giver tonight. Someone comes in once a week. I’d…she has a bad hip.”
“Surgery?”
“Harry!” I almost groan. Next he’ll be asking for her phone number. But he spies an old lady with green hair and pearls and makes a beeline for her. “I’m sorry, it’s not his business. And—”
“I like him,” Magnus says, humor lacing his words, and there’s a part of me I didn’t know was tense that relaxes. If he likes Harry, then all is good.
And secretly, I want to ask the same question Harry did, but for different reasons. I think, though, Magnus will talk about it when and if he wants to. It’s not my business until it is. Still…
“He’s lonely. You know you’ll have to introduce him to your gran at some point.”
“I just might.” He’s still got my hand and it feels right. “You know, you don’t have to like this Edward—”
“Good. Because I don’t.”
“But you have to give it to him. He’s doing a lot of good, showing heart.”
“He’s a cynical monster who’s doing this for nefarious reasons.”
I don’t know this for sure, but it fits.
Anyone who kicks out poor people, old people and the lower working class for luxurious buildings and then has a charity to help is diabolical.
Magnus laughs softly and lifts my hand, brushing his lips against it. “You’re one of a kind, Zoey.”
Suddenly he goes stiff as a cloud of subtle, expensive perfume wafts over us and an elegant voice says, “Magnus? Aren’t you going to introduce your friend to your mother?”
Chapter Eleven
Magnus
Well, fuck. Of course my mother is here.
I smile at her and then at pretty little Zoey.
“If you’ll excuse us,” I say smoothly.
Then before either she or my mother can speak, I grab the perfumed, Dior-clad Sinclair Queen and steer her away by the elbow.
