But none of it seemed quite right.
I tripped on the way out of the automatic doors, bumping into a couple of tourists and apologizing as they looked at me like I was day-drunk.
One of my shoelaces had come undone, and I’d stepped on it.
Dante’s curse.
It wasn’t real—it couldn’t be, there was no such thing as curses—but it sure as hell felt like that untied shoelace meant something.
Only I didn’t break Iggy’s heart, did I?
DidI?
No. No, like Liam said. He was looking for someone else. Waiting for someone else. Someone who could settle down in his cabin and cuddle his dog and live his life with him.
Not someone who was constantly on the road. Not someone he’d have to say goodbye to all the time.
We’d just been having fun. And ithadbeen fun, and I wanted to think of it as fun. I’d always missed Iggy when we were separated, this was just that feeling all over again. It’d be fine in a few days. I was used to having to leave him.
I’d had to leave him all my life, because sometimes life wasn’t fair.
My battered faithful suitcase lost a wheel on the way out of the hotel elevator, as though today wasn’t bad enough already. I dragged it into the chic little serviced apartment I was being set up in for this job—at least the place was nice—and left it by the door, making a mental note that I’d need a new one.
The job site proved harder for my Uber driver to find than I would’ve expected, but I tipped her generously for putting up with the anxious way I’d been backseat driving the entire time.
Reggie’s face was the first comforting thing I’d seen all day, and that lasted until I saw the way he was scowling.
“Ah, here he is now!” Reggie said, turning to me, his scowl lifting just enough to manage what could almost be called a smile. “Ms. Nyquist, this is Harvey. Harvey’s a wizard.”
Normally I would’ve preened at the praise—I knew Reggiemeantit, he wasn’t just blowing smoke up my ass for the sake of it—but today, it fell flat. I smiled as cheerfully as I could, which probably came out just cheerful enough not to make me look like a serial killer.
Just.
“Oh, please call me Anna,” the woman Reggie had been talking to said in a thick Scandinavian accent, beaming at me and not-so-subtly checking me out.
Reggie gave me a knowing look, like we were sharing a secret. I was getting the impression he was more excited about me being gay than I’d ever been.
She was pretty, though. If I’d been straight… well, I had no idea what my type would have been if I was straight.
But she was pretty, I didn’t have to be attracted to her to know that.
Maybe that was why Reggie was so excited. No competition if I wasn’t interested.
“Anna,” I said, shaking her extended hand. “I can’t promise magic, but I do have a few ideas.”
That was a lie. I hadn’t thought once about the job since I arrived in Otter Bay.
But I’d think of something.
This was my life, and it was time to get back to it.
* * *
The problem startedwhen I took out my phone to take a picture of a possible setup configuration I wanted to send to Reggie and the last thing on my camera roll popped up in the corner.
One of the photos I’d taken of Iggy and me in the hammock.
I tapped on it, throat tightening as it filled the screen. My face was half-hidden, nuzzling Iggy’s cheek, but Iggy’s eyes were alight with laughter, a broad grin spread over his whole face, hair a mess and sweater rumpled.
