Page 40 of This is a Kissing Book

“Lucky penny?” I watch the copper glint like it’s winking at me as it tumbles in the air.

“Something like that.”

“I once heard a statistic that Americans think about Honest Abe on average once per day.”

“I should hope so,” he says, then goes still.

His hand slides from my back, which had skillfully guided me through the crowd, to cup my own.

Linc is holding my hand.

His skin is cool, but mine burns like I just touched a hot stovetop. I should know better than to allow this, but it’s like our palms are glued together.

I’m so far out of my element that I welcome Linc’s presence. That’s the story I tell myself, anyway.

“I’m only allowing this so I don’t get lost. It’s a safety issue,” I call, but I don’t know if he hears me when a cackling laugh cuts through the music.

His grip tightens.

The actress Iva Katz swans over with a spindly man. He wears a satin baroque suit, has stringy dyed orange hair, and his eyes, lined with black kohl, are bloodshot. She wears designer everything, artfully messy hair, and the kind of smile that’s been practiced in front of mirrors.

“Linc-y baby!” Iva exclaims, though her eyes flit from him to our joined hands, to me as though she’s trying to solve an advanced calculus problem. “You came after all. And you brought a friend?” It’s more of a question than a statement.

“This is Juliana,” he says, getting my name right for the first time. Ever.

I lengthen my spine and extend my free hand for her to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t take it. “I’m sure.”

“Iva Babe, who do we have here?” asks her Unhinged Circus Person companion.

She looks at me, apparently decides that I’m no one, and says, “This is my ex, Linc-y.”

I turn to Linc and, like a political adversary who’s about to mount a teasing campaign, mouth, Linc-y?

Nostrils flared, as if reading my mind once more, he mutters, “Don’t you dare.”

The desire to use this silly nickname against him, especially after the corporate power move to intentionally get my name wrong, is almost too tasty to pass up.

Unhinged Circus Person spreads his arms wide like a king, declaring, “I’m Aiken D, but you know that.”

I do?

With a spin, he adds, “Welcome to my kingdom of chaos.”

He is indeed wearing a velvet mantel with a thick fur ruff.

“Are you royalty?” I curtsy.

Linc laughs but hides it with a cough.

Iva lets out a hollow titter. “In our world, of course. He’s the Demo King.”

“The King of demolition entertainment.” Unhinged Circus Person, aka Aiken, wheezes a laugh.

Iva narrows her eyes in my direction. “So, how do you two know each other? You make such an interesting couple.”

Linc and I exchange a quick glance, both starting to speak at the same time.