Even in the semidarkness, with my terrible night vision, I see Bea roll her eyes.
I smile at her. “I quite agree,” I murmur.
And then I rise, still holding her hand. “Our gratitude for your services, Madame Petty. Do enjoy the rest of your day.”
“That’s fifty bucks each,” she says.
Bea makes a noise that her brothers are likely familiar with from times that they frustrated her. “Your sign says ten.”
“That’s for people who don’t argue about disliking their first fortune.”
I see to it that she’s paid—it never hurts to not anger a fortune teller—and then follow Bea back out into the sunshine.
“Apologies,” I murmur. “You were rather spot-on with your expectations.”
She rolls her shoulders back. “I’m an easy mark in there.”
“Do people often take advantage of your life tragedies?”
She slides a long, slow glance at me that has sweat breaking out at the base of my neck.
As though she’s aware that I too am essentially taking advantage of the tragedies of her life.
But her answer—her answer is even worse than I could’ve anticipated.
“I’ve never thought of it exactly that way before, but yes. Yes, I think you’ve just described why every boyfriend I’ve had in the past decade noticed me.”
Wonderful.
Fabulous job, old boy.
You’re using her life tragedies,andyou’ve suddenly busted her rose-colored glasses.
I turn us toward the games. “Perhaps you live in a place where people care more than they take advantage. Thisisa lovely town. And I’ve only begun exploring it.”
She’s quiet as she turns to head in the direction of a familiar laugh rising above the rest of the noise.
My boys are clearly having the time of their lives.
I hustle to follow Bea, worried that I’ve ruined the day for her.
“Another cake, Mum!”
“We’ll be sugared up into the next millennia!”
Bea smiles softly, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Are you quite all right?” I inquire. “I shouldn’t have pushed?—”
She glances around, then stops short of entering the rows of carnival games. “What are you doing, Simon?”
“What am I doing?” I echo dumbly. I’m well aware of what she’s asking, but I don’t have an answer.
Nothing beyondenjoying your company, which is the wrong answer for all of us.
For many, many reasons.
“You told me last night that you didn’t like me. And now—now, everyone in Athena’s Rest will be talking about how we’re essentially having another date.”
