“I trust you can show yourselves out?”
We eventually manage to find the front door and emerge into the pale early morning sunlight, where my Suburban still waits off to the side of the driveway behind a screen of boxwoods.
The journey back into Baltimore proper is quiet beyond Annie muttering about how she needs coffee. I make a quick stop at a RoFo along the way and grab her a cup. The transformation is immediate after the first sip—another tiny charming piece to add to my collection of knowledge about her.
“Sorry if I drooled on you,” she says, cradling the paper coffee cup as if it’s her most treasured possession.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s fine? You’re supposed to say I didn’t drool at all. That I slept like an absolute perfect and beautiful angel with no indication that I even possess bodily fluids.”
“I think it’s too early in the morning for the phrase ‘bodily fluids,’ ” I say, stopping at a red light. I take the opportunity to sip my own coffee and try to drown out the sudden memories of the dream I was having right before Genevieve arrived.
I drop Annie off at Harold’s house so she can get ready for work; we’re due at Virtu in a few hours. Her heavily creased dress rides high on her thighs as she slides out of the passenger seat and onto the sidewalk. Before she closes the door, she turns back to me and says, “Thank you, by the way.”
“For getting you trapped inside a mansion?”
“For trusting me with so many of your truths. It’s nice to understand you better.”
“Oh. Well. Sure. Same to you.”
“See you in a bit,” she says. And the promise of that perks me up more than all the caffeine in the world.
FIFTEEN
Annie
It’s strange workingat VirtuwithCal. Before, it was always me in the front, him in the back office researching the goose. Or him in the front, helping customers, and me quietly fuming as I attempted to stay out of his way. Even yesterday, after we’d reached an accord (or, rather, I coerced him into one), he was at the bank for a good chunk of the morning. Then we were too frazzled over the missing goose to really appreciate the fact that we were both in the same space for more than a few minutes without provoking each other into a squabble.
Now we know what it’s like to be in a single room together for hours. The same bed, even. Getting stuck in the mansion last night has shifted the dynamic between us even more. Cal is no longer an abstract concept to me. He’s no longer just a cartoonish villain or a cute guy caressing an old lamp on my TV. After hearing about his relationship with Nicole, his failed attempt to date again, his apparent appreciation of my hands…
There’s a realawarenessand I am, uh, quite aware of it. It’sbecome impossible not to notice where he is at all times. To track the distance between us like some sort of video game mechanic, extending a line from body to body with a fluctuating number between.
I doubt I’m alone in this feeling that something has changed. Especially because I keep catching Cal staring at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. Then, as soon as I meet his eyes, he’ll glance away and pretend to be engrossed with whatever item is closest at hand.
“This is such a nice stapler,” I hear him mutter to himself when it happens for the fifth time today.
It doesn’t help that we’re also both on edge, waiting for a return call from Marvin of Marvin’s Moving. I left a message for him this morning, and now it’s early evening. The fact that we haven’t heard back from him yet has me gnawing on my thumbnail. All I can do is remind myself that, as long as the goose is on the truck still, it’s safe. Which means Cal and I are also safe.
Probably.
The call finally comes close to closing. Marvin apologizes for the delay; he had back-to-back-to-back jobs today, but yes, we can come check out the truck he uses for Genevieve’s staging this evening.
“Thanks, it shouldn’t take long at all,” I promise.
“Are you looking for that big bird?” he asks.
My stomach sinks. The chances of him knowing much about the laws concerning the mounting of migratory birds are slim, but not nonexistent. “Oh. Um. You’ve…seen it?”
“Yeah, it’s creepy as hell. Makayla said she didn’t want to use it, so we left it on the truck.”
I exhale in relief. If Marvin does intend on ruining our lives,he’s hiding it well. “Great. Yeah. We’ll be there in a bit to get it from you.”
Cal waits patiently for me to hang up. “Well?” he asks.
“Good news or bad news first?”
“Bad,” he answers without hesitation.
