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“I’m glad you’re here, Magnus,” she says quietly. “I like you. A lot.”
“I like you.”
“I was thinking, maybe…maybe we could see where this goes?” She stops, looking horrified. “Or maybe—”
“We take it one day at a time. See where it goes.”
Those are stupid words, I know it, but the softness to Zoey is worth it. The way she doesn’t seem so stressed here is worth it. One little lie. One little fantasy. It’s not much. And she’s into someone who doesn’t exist. Someone who is me, but without all the shit she hates. Someone without the fortune and the hard fucking lines I take, the relentless drive.
I didn’t even know this Magnus existed until I met her.
“That’s a deal,” she says.
The drive back to Brooklyn is long, but it passes quickly, and I beg off staying the night, although I spend a little too long making out with her like some kind of hormonal teen.
As I leave, I turn my phone on and I go through the messages from Georgio. I call Ryder, who isn’t answering. With a sigh, I tell him to put his dick back in his pants and clean up his act. Then I realize something.
I left a message for Amelia this morning and she hasn’t called me back.
She always calls me back.
I’m close enough so I head over there.
The building, I think, really does need an overhaul, and I mentally put it on my list of things to do.
I knock on her door and all along the hall noises tumble out of the other apartments. But Amelia’s is silent.
I knock again. “Amelia?”
No answer.
I have keys and she told me she’d be staying there during this. But maybe she’s out. So I send her a text and then I unlock the door.
The apartment is dark and silent as I step inside to leave her a note. Hey, she’s on my dime. A lot of my dimes, so I don’t care about coming in here. I switch on a light and freeze.
It’s not just silent because she’s not here tonight.
Every last trace of her has been erased.
Amelia Johnson, fake gran, is gone.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Zoey
Reality always returns with a bang or a whimper. Whatever. It always returns. And it can’t keep the warmth inside me from wanting to burst open.
I haven’t seen Magnus since I got back. That’s not unusual since it’s the weekend and I’m sure he’s spending time with his gran. I know he is, because…he called me last night.
For a moment I wondered if he had something he wanted to say, but instead it was one of those conversations that meandered over everything. Like dreams, and I told him I’m living it.
The bookstore, he’d said.
I agreed but as I snuggled down in my bed, listening to the low, rich cadence of his voice against my ear, I meant more than that.
Even if this thing with him is fleeting, it’s a dream.
That’s something I’ll never tell him.
