“Unless you’re really cocky.”
“I’m not. Trust me.”
“You do seem like a shitty thief.” He held my bag high. “Tell me what you’re doing here and I’ll give it back.”
“You can’t take my stuff hostage.”
He didn’t say anything. Apparently he could.
“Fine. Whatever.” I swept my hair out of my face. “I was snooping. What about you? What are you doing here?”
The knob behind him twisted. I inhaled sharply, and the boy jumped out of the way as the door swung open.
Uh-oh.
An older man entered, then stopped short, a frown etched on his brow. He looked me up and down, then focused on the boy. “Noah. I thought you might be here.”
“I was getting a vase.” He held up the flower. “Mrs. Greene picked this. It’s endangered. Why don’t people get that endangered meansyou’re not supposed to pick it?”
“There are vases in the dining room.”
“Giant vases. I wanted this one.”
“Hm. Your parents are looking for you.” His eyes slid back toward me. “Who is your... friend?”
“This is Abigail Schoenberg. Abigail, this is my great-uncle Bertie.”
I gave a self-conscious wave. “Hi.”
“Mm.” He appraised my outfit. “Are you with Lindsey’s?”
For a minute I stared blankly, before remembering Lindsey’s was the name of the catering service. “Yes?”
“Then shouldn’t you be out front?”
I glanced at Noah—ridiculous, since he had no reason to cover for me. But. Solidarity in youth. Old people clearly couldn’t be trusted, not after they’d so casually ruined the planet.
For whatever reason, Noah stood up for me. “I wanted her help with something.”
The man’s brows rose perilously high.
Oh, great. Great-uncle Bertie definitely thought we’d been hooking up.
“But we’re done now,” I said hurriedly. “You’re right, I should get back to my job. Those champagne flutes won’t serve themselves.”
Honestly, sometimes I said things so cheesy I made myself lactose intolerant.
“Someone else can handle it,” Noah said.
“Noah.” His great-uncle sounded impatient. “You should say goodbye.”
Noah’s lips pressed together, and I thought for sure he’d rat me out. Instead, he nodded. “Give us a sec, then I’ll find Mom and Dad.”
Looking mulish, the older man backed out of the room and closed the door.
Not entirely, though. Noah pushed it the rest of the way shut. Turning back, he hoisted my bag. “Well?”
But something had clicked in the back of my mind. “Your name’s Noah.”
