Page 163 of Flirty Fall Fling

“Have you found him yet?” Winter asks.

“No,” I tell her. “I will today. I hope.”

“Keep me updated,” she says. “And be careful.”

“I will.”

I stop at a phone store before I venture into the city alone. I get a burner phone in case I have an emergency, but I buy the lowest amount of minutes and no data. On the way out, the cashier tells me about an internet café a few blocks over that can help me print out the subway routes so I can navigate the city.

I find it, by some miracle.

Two guys are coding in the corner. It’s three dollars an hour with a keyboard that has a sticky F. I buy ten minutes and search Jamie on the internet like my future depends on it. I scroll past a month of headlines that include my name. At the bottom, I find a website that talks about his hockey foundation and his fifteen-million-dollar penthouse that overlooks Central Park.

Fifteen million.

I knew he was rich, rich, but it’s hard for me to believe because he’s so normal.

In Pine Haven, I can’t cross Main Street without four conversations happening. Here, I walk forty blocks in full witch regalia, and no one looks twice at me. The energy in the city is different, like magic lives under the streets.

Two blocks later, I walk into the lobby of his foundation. His name stretches across the wall with photos of him on the ice with different groups of kids. This is a side of him I’ve never seen.

My heart rides in my throat when I step onto the elevator because I don’t have a plan.

I move up to the reception area, and a tall woman greets me with a grin. She knows who I am.

“Mr. Cross is no longer associated with this organization,” she says, glancing around. “It would be in your best interest for you to leave.”

“What?” I ask.

“Please leave, Ms. Wardwell,” she explains.

“Do you know where he is?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“… no longer associated with this organization.”

I leave, feeling uneasy.

When I’m outside, I look up at the sky, not understanding what’s going on.

Jamie left Pine Haven with a thank-you note, disconnected his phone, and then quit his job? Is he trying to disappear?

I panic, wanting to make sure he’s okay and not trying to erase himself one account at a time.

I take a taxi uptown, knowing if I walk another mile in these boots, I’ll be an angry witch. Thirty minutes later, I’m stepping out of a cab at the corner of the high-rises that sit on the edge of Billionaires’ Row. The lobby floors are marble, and it smells like luxury. The man behind the desk waves me over to him.

“Hello, miss. May I help you?”

I smile. “I’m searching for Mr. Jameson Cross.”

“Ahh, I’m so sorry. We can’t confirm our residents.”

My face nearly breaks because I don’t know if I’ll ever find him. “Thanks.”

I’m mentally exhausted. I really believed I’d find him today. The only thing I can do is backtrack to the internet café and try to get in touch with Patterson. Maybe his brother will know what’s going on.

I make it half a block before my feet stop on their own. The tingle starts at the back of my neck, the same sensation that made me get on a plane with no plan. I turn around, ready to break down over this.