Adam stared at me for a long moment, processing my words. “Why protect her then?” he asked, still perfectly calmly. “Why bother silencing Tilly?”
I huffed out a sharp breath. “I guess I just couldn’t pass up an opportunity to destroy her. She deserved to be shut down.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you want me to do about this.”
“All you have to do is tell me that you believe me.”
Adam took a few steps forward and kissed my forehead. But he said nothing. And it crushed me.
I had to get out of the apartment. I wanted to be where there was no noise, no trouble and no Adam.
Inexplicably, the laundrette was where I ended up – with Adam in tow, because lugging a bag of laundry three blocks was beyond me.
We sat side by side on the row of plastic chairs, mindlessly watching our clothes slosh around in the machine while we waited.
“I want you to know that I didn’t mean what I said,” Adam murmured, entranced by the spinning clothes in front of us. “I would never want you to conform. It would be like ripping the wings off a butterfly.”
It was a sweet thing to say, but still implied I’d done something wrong.
“It’s unfair that I love you the way I do,” I said bleakly. “My second heart will be black by the time I’m through with it.”
Adam turned to look at me, silently quizzing me with his eyes.
I sighed, unwilling to explain. “Never mind.” The machine stopped spinning. I grabbed a trolley and began pulling the clothes out.
“Please tell me,” he urged.
I stuffed the wet clothes into the dryer and slammed the door. “No. You’ll have to figure it out.”
He pulled out a handful of coins and pumped them into the machine. “And if I can’t?”
I shrugged, highlighting my indifference. “Then I guess you’ll never know.”
He turned to me, drawing me in close. “I love you, Charli,” he said, leaning his forehead against mine. “And if I’ve let you forget that today, I will tell you a hundred times more.”
30. Effort
The rest of the weekend passed without incident, and Monday morning rolled around quickly. Nothing had been resolved, but it was easier to make believe everything was fine when it was just the two of us.
“Charli, what do you have planned today?” asked Adam, rushing around the bedroom searching for something to wear.
I stayed in bed. I had nowhere to rush to. “Promise not to judge me?”
He stopped searching and turned to face me. “Of course. What do you have planned?”
“I’m going to have my nails done with Seraphina,” I replied in a tiny voice.
“You’re kidding me. How did that come about?”
I wasn’t entirely sure. She’d completely blindsided me with a phone call the day before, suggesting that we get to know each other better. “Before I knew what was happening, I was agreeing to a play date.”
“Sera’s a sweet girl, Charli. You’ll be fine.”
I had to concede that Seraphina had never been particularly hostile toward me. “Time will tell, I guess,” I replied. “What do you have planned?”
“Well, for starters, I need to find a shirt.”
I pointed to the laundry basket. “Then what?”
“Research and study,” he replied, dragging a T-shirt over his head.
“You’re such a boring man,” I teased, dragging out the words. Without warning, Adam pulled the warm covers off me, grabbed my ankles and dragged me down the bed. “I’m sorry.” He murmured the words against my bare stomach, sending a hot rush right through me. “I’ll try harder not to be, starting now.”
***
I wasn’t exactly a nail salon virgin, but I’d never had my nails done in a salon that served complimentary champagne at the door. Sera arrived late, leaving me to fend off the overzealous technician by myself. His name was Zahn, and he scared the living daylights out of me. The tight-fitting black turtleneck, black skinny jeans and diamante studded belt was a very brave look, considering he was about fifty pounds overweight.
“Come! Sit! Sit, darling!” he commanded, jiggling toward me as I walked in. I didn’t have a chance to protest. He grabbed my hand and led me to the nearest chair. “What is it you want from Zahn?” he purred, examining my hands under the bright desk lamp.
“A manicure?” I actually sounded unsure.
“What do you do with these hands, darling?” he asked, stroking my palms like he was petting a cat. “Cart bricks?”
As luck would have it, that was the moment Seraphina showed up. Zahn momentarily forgot about me, dropping my hands and running to take Sera’s coat. “Hello Zahn,” she greeted, air kissing both of his cheeks.
“Seraphina, ballerina,” he cooed, giggling like a little girl.
Sera wriggled free of him, made her way down to me and sat down on the chair beside me. “Hi Charli. How are you?”
“A little frightened,” I whispered, making her chuckle.
There was no escaping Zahn. Considering the over-the-top greeting Sera received, I thought he’d ditch me in favour of her. But he didn’t. A girl called Jojo with spiky pink hair, two studs in her eyebrow and pink Beats headphones covering her ears sat down and went to work on her.
“I’m really glad you decided to come,” said Sera. “I wanted to be sure you were okay after that horrible episode with Tilly. She does a lot of damage.”
I didn’t look at her as she spoke. “Thanks, but I wouldn’t say she’s the worst I’ve had to deal with since I’ve been here.”
“Fitting in hasn’t been easy for you,” she agreed.
“Nope. You’re a tough crowd.”
Zahn giggled, a girly shrill that reminded me of Fabergé. I realised I probably shouldn’t have been talking so freely in front of him.
Jojo couldn’t have heard a word. We could hear the loud music thumping through the big headphones she was wearing.
“I know it’s no excuse but, well, you took us by surprise. One minute Adam was with Whitney and the next he was married to you.”
“Scan-da-lous,” interjected Zahn. I wiggled my fingers to get his mind back on task.
“It seemed so out of character for Adam, which can only mean one thing,” she mused.
“What, darling? What does it mean?” Zahn asked the question as if hearing the answer meant the difference between life and death.
“He loves her, Zahn.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I said, ignoring Zahn’s coo of approval. “I love him.”
We were quiet for a while, but the silence wasn’t awkward. I felt no need to impress Sera. I’d already made the decision that she’d have to take me at face value. It was a stance I probably should’ve adopted the second I arrived in New York.
“Why did you get married? How can you be sure he’s the one?” Sera didn’t sound cynical, just curious. “What if you break up?”
I shrugged. “It won’t matter. He’ll still be the one.”
My words stunned her into silence. Even Zahn was quiet.
I drew in a long breath, debating whether or not I should elaborate. I decided to throw it all out there and let her decide if I was crazy or not. “I’ll tell you the whole story if you want to hear it.”
Seraphina nodded, smiling eagerly.
Zahn squeezed my fingers so tightly I thought he was going to break them. “We want to hear ev-ery-thing, darling,” he enthused.
It wasn’t a tough story to tell. I liked the story of Adam and Charli. Apparently Zahn did too. He burst into tears half way through the tale, blubbing so uncontrollably that I had to wait for him to pull himself together before continuing.
“So you searched Africa, looking for him,” he breathed. His exotic accent seemed to slip along with his concentration. I suspected that Zahn from Europe was actually Gary from Brooklyn, but held off on calling him on it.
“Ah, no,” I corrected. “I was on a surfing trip in Africa. A
dam has always been in New York.”
“Yes,” said Sera giggling. “Searching Africa would’ve been pointless. I can’t imagine Adam hanging out somewhere like that.”
Nor could I, and that realisation was a dull but constant hum in my head.
“I’m hoping to change his mind.”
Seraphina glanced at me and smiled, albeit uneasily.
My story wasn’t the only one told that day. I learned that Sera wasn’t particularly fond of her circle of friends.
“I love Jeremy, of course. Whitney and Adam have always been sweet to me, but I wouldn’t trust the others as far as I could throw them.” She shuddered and I was suddenly keen to know more. Zahn was too, saving me from appearing nosy by demanding that she elaborate. “Tell us ev-ery-thing, darling.”
Apparently Kinsey’s career in bitchiness was long. She’d done everything from passing off Sera’s college assignments as her own to hitting on her boyfriend. Sera’s revulsion for Parker stemmed from the hundreds of times he’d made a move on her.
“He’s a smarmy low-life,” she growled. “But I figure Kinsey deserves him.” Zahn threw his greasy blonde head back and cackled. Sera and I laughed too, mainly at Zahn. There was nothing funny about her story. At times she’d been just as tormented by them as I was.
I left the salon with new nails and a new opinion of Seraphina Sawyer. I understood her a little better. Hopefully, she felt the same. If not, I’d just given her a whole lot of ammunition to use against me.
***
I didn’t go straight home. I’d received a curious phone call from Adam asking that I meet him outside a café all the way down near Battery Park.
“Take a cab and make sure you wear something warm,” he instructed. “Oh, and Charli?”
“What?”
“I love you.”
I would’ve returned the sentiment, but in true New York style, he’d already ended the call.
Peak hour traffic in Manhattan is abominable. The long cab ride seemed to take forever so I cut the journey short and walked the last few blocks. Needless to say, I was late.
“Where have you been?” asked Adam urgently, striding toward me. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“Of course I was coming. It just took a while.” He wrapped both arms tightly around me. “What are we doing here?” The financial district wasn’t usually one of our haunts. I leaned back, needing to see his eyes.
He squinted mischievously, making the manoeuvre totally worthwhile. “I have a surprise for you.”
I didn’t ask what. It was never going to be a bad surprise. I just held his hand and tried to keep up as he marched along the footpath. We ended up in front of an office building that was so tall a car could’ve driven through the front doors with ease. Adam led me across the marble foyer to a reception desk that looked lost in the wide open space.
Curiously, the woman at desk knew him and greeted him by name. “I’ll call ahead and make sure your father is in,” she offered, reaching for the phone.
Adam smoothly protested. “No, no. It’s fine. I was hoping to surprise him.”
We were in the building that housed Jean-Luc Décarie’s law offices. It was a crappy surprise, after all. I’d enjoyed the few days reprieve we’d had from his family.
The receptionist smiled. “Go on up then,” she permitted, pointing toward the row of elevators.
I said nothing. I trailed behind as he led us into the elevator. The doors closed and I stood studying the brass plate on the elevator wall. “Décarie, Fontaine and Associates. Level forty-three,” I read.
Adam hit the button for the roof level. “We’re not here to see my Dad.”
“What are we here to see?” I asked, feeling curious and relieved at the same time.
He glanced across at me, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’re here to see magic on the roof, Charlotte.”
The rooftop was a restricted area. The elevator stopped a floor below and an audible recording told us it was the end of the line. Adam reached into the pocket of his coat, pulled out something that looked like a hotel room card and swiped it along the keypad. The elevator hummed and we continued the short journey upwards.
“Did you steal that card?” I asked, thrilled by the prospect.
“The harder the access, the sweeter the find, Charlotte.” It was the same statement I’d made to him a million years ago when we were scaling a fence to get to a private stretch of beach in Pipers Cove. It reminded me of how much he loved small details.
The freezing cold air hit me the second we were outside, and I lingered by the door. “Come and see,” Adam urged, waving me over as he walked to the fenced off edge. “It’s incredible.”
“I can see it from here,” I lied.
He abruptly forgot the view and turned to face me. “Are you frightened?”
Until then, I didn’t think I had a problem with heights. I’d changed my mind somewhere between the sixtieth and seventieth floor. “A little bit,” I conceded. “We’re a long way up.”
Adam ambled back to me as if he was using the time to plot his next move. He reached for my hand and led me to what looked like a big metal air-conditioning box in the centre of the roof. We sat down and I snuggled into him. The humming box was warm, working hard to heat the offices below.
“Better?”
I nodded. My legs had stopped shaking, probably at the realisation that we could no longer accidentally tumble off the edge. I couldn’t even see the edge any more.
“It’s a pretty view,” I told him, looking at the skyline ahead.
“We’re not here for that view,” he said enigmatically. “We’re here for that view.” He pointed upward and I looked to the hazy sky.
“The clouds?”
“No, the stars. We’re a bit early, I guess.”
I cast my mind back to the conversation we’d had that morning. It occurred to me that his day of research and studying had nothing to do with his class work. I turned my head, smiling at him. “You researched second hearts, didn’t you?”
“You knew I would.” He grinned. “You want to hear what I learned?”
Enjoying the warmth, I lay back on the metal box and looked to the sky. “Of course I do.”
Adam had found out something I’d known to be true for a long time. Fairies gift new babies a second heart when they’re born.
“They’re shiny and silver and stay with us until we die,” he recited, lying down beside me. His head was turned toward me, but I kept my focus on the overcast sky above.
“I’m very impressed.”
“The fairies reclaim them once we die,” he added.
“Then what?”
His hand reached across my body, slipping inside my coat and coming to rest on my heart. His cold skin sent a shudder through me, but I made no attempt to move out of reach.
“They hang them in the sky. They become stars,” he whispered. “They’re picky though, the fairies.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. They only take the brightest hearts. If they haven’t been treasured and looked after, the hearts become blackened and tarnished.”
I let out a long breath that came out in an unsteady shiver. “That’s the tragedy.”
“Yeah. No one wants their second heart to become the rattling ball in a can of spray paint.”
I frowned at him. “Is that what happens to them?”
Adam laughed, hard enough that his hand trembled on my chest. “No. I’m lying about that part. I couldn’t find what happens to the reject second hearts.”
I turned on my side, cuddling into him as if we were in bed rather than lying on an air conditioner box seventy stories above the street. “Well, it’s my understanding that they polish them up and reuse them. Fairies are big on recycling.”
He reached forward, stroking my cheek with the back of his free hand.
“These stories sometimes confuse me.”
“Why?”
“Well, how do you know which is the truth?
Are stars stuck in the sky serving a punishment, big rocks that splinter into diamonds or second hearts?”
“They’re whatever you believe they are,” I replied. “That’s the beauty of magic. There are no rules.”
He leaned in, pressing his cold lips against mine. “You have no idea how lovely you are, Charlotte.”
Hanging out on the top of the office building was the best few hours we’d spent together in a long time. It was a true escape from the busy city.
We didn’t stay to see the stars. Getting locked up there after business hours was a bigger risk than either of us was prepared to take. But skipping out early dulled none of the magic. Both of my hearts were positively gleaming.
***
It had been a good week. Drama had been at a minimum and attention from the cute French-American boy had been at a premium. That was why I was caught off guard by the huge bouquet of flowers on the dining room table that morning. I knew they weren’t from Adam. Gifting me ostentatious floral arrangements wasn’t his style.
“They arrived a few minutes ago,” he said, sidling up behind me. “Mom sent them.”
The way he kissed the back of my neck usually set me on fire, but his touch was powerless. I was too focused on the stupid flowers. “Why would she do that?”
“It’s her way of apologising. She also wants to take you to lunch.” I backed away, fighting the sudden urge to set fire to the flowers, and uselessly tried to wrestle free of his grip. “Why, Adam? It’s just asking for trouble.”
He didn’t seem to pick up on the terror in my voice. I was beginning to suspect Adam saw only what he wanted to.
“At least she’s making the effort.”
“Don’t you wonder why she’s making the effort?”
“Please, Coccinelle.” His technique of breathing the words into my neck was nothing more than trickery. It made protesting impossible. “Just meet with her and sort it out. For me.”
It would only be for him. It was only ever for him. If it were up to me, Fiona and I would never cross paths again.