Arthur shot him a dirty look. “I’m so angry with you,” he said, although he hadn’t let go of Rory’s hand, and he wasn’t crushing it, just holding it like he couldn’t bear to let go.
Rory frowned. “What’d I do?”
“Are you seriously—” Arthur cut it off. “We’ll talk about it later.” He let go of Rory’s hand with obvious reluctance, and shifted the car into gear.
Rory slid closer across the bench seat and put his hand on Arthur’s thigh. When Arthur glanced at him, Rory said, “I haven’t seen you in weeks and weeks. I don’t care how cross you are, no way I’m not touching you unless you tell me you don’t want it.”
Arthur swallowed and looked back at the road. “I want it,” he said quietly, voice tight. “What happened with the antiques shop?”
Rory bit his lip. “Mrs. B’s gonna be Mrs. M now.”
“Mrs. M? You mean—oh,” Arthur said, in realization. “She’s marrying her suitor. She sold the shop.”
Rory nodded once, the ache fresh, his genuine happiness for her intertwined with his own loss. “She’s moving to Boston.”
Arthur let out a quiet breath, some of the tension leaving him. “I’m sorry, darling.”
“Not your fault.”
“You lost the closest thing you have to family, and I wasn’t here.”
Also not his fault. Rory stared out the windshield. “Did you have any luck with the pomander at Niagara Falls?”
Arthur snorted bitterly. “Not even a little.”
Damn. They were driving up the east side, past the new high-rises and the old mansions. Arthur’s parents lived somewhere around here, and so did his alderman brother, John. “We’re not going to your place?”
“Not yet,” Arthur said, and before Rory could ask where they were going, he added, “Have you been to my flat at all while I was gone?”
Rory frowned. “Of course not.”
“So what was your plan for a bed tonight, when you got off work and your house was closed?”
Rory made a face. “I hadn’t gotten that far.”
Arthur’s hands were very tight around the steering wheel as he drove them farther north. “But you still have a maintenance key to my flat.”
“Well, yeah. I’d never losethat.” Rory heard Arthur take another breath through his nose. “So where are we going?”
“Harlem,” said Arthur, eyes fixed forward, his expression now shuttered in a way that made Rory feel like somehow he’d hurt Arthur deeply. “Not much farther now.”
Chapter Five
Rory looked so exhausted that Arthur debated calling the whole thing off. But as he pulled into the alley, Rory perked up like he’d drunk an entirecaffettiera’sworth of coffee himself.
“The Magnolia?” he said as Arthur parked, already opening his passenger door. “Is Stella singing?”
The Magnolia’s side door swung open as he approached, Jade popping out in her swishy trousers and heels, Zhang’s physical form just a few steps behind. “There you are,” she said, beaming at Rory. “We nearly started without you.”
Rory lit up. “You look so pretty,” he blurted out as she took him by the shoulders in a hug and he hugged her back.
She pulled back a second later, still holding his arms. “Charmer,” she accused, her smile growing sweeter, then softening into something sad. “Oh, Rory. I’m sorry about the antiques shop.”
“S’all right,” Rory said, sounding as hollow as he had every time he’d mentioned it. “Mrs. B’s so happy. I’m happy for her.”
“I’m still sorry that happened while we weren’t here.” She squeezed his arms. “But why did Zhang find you working in a random awful kitchen? If you needed new work until we got back, why didn’t you come here, to the Magnolia?”
“Or to the Dragon House?” Zhang added. “If you want to wash dishes, we have dishes, and we don’t exploit our staff.”
