Page 73 of Mr. Perfect

I get up, grab my beers and leave through the barn doors, turning right once again, because that’s the only way that doesn’t have me backtracking. The library is at the end of this hallway, I can see it from here—glowing with soft amber light that reflects off the dark polished wood. I enter to find a single book placed in the center of a large round table. I set the beers down, hoping they don’t leave a ring of water on this beautiful wood, and reach for the book.

It’s called The 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene. I’ve read it. It was required in college business classes. There’s a card tucked into the very back and when the book falls open it lands on Law 46—Never Appear Too Perfect.

I open the card and read.

Dear Eloise,

Greene says people who appear too perfect create silent enemies through jealousy. A man with no faults is not a man. I relate to this law the most, even though all the laws are solid, practical, good advice for anyone, at any stage in life. But I relate to Law 46 the most because it is the first lesson I learned on my own.

Please find the closet in the red room.

McAllister

Well. He’s got something to say, he’s just not sure how to say it, I guess. And this scavenger hunt is helping him. Whatever it is, it must weigh heavily on his mind. I sigh as I stick the card in my pocket, pick up the beers, wipe the water ring away with the bottom of my shirt, and go off to find the red room.

This takes me a while. Longer than seems possible. But this place, this penthouse—it’s huge. I pass by many rooms and finally stumble onto the red one.

It’s just another pretty room. If you like this style. I’m appropriately impressed with the luxury of it. The minimalist opulence. If I knew the total price of the things this apartment contains it would probably be more than I’d ever make in a lifetime.

So I pass right by the furnishings and open one of two doors to find an equally impressive bathroom. I move on to the next door and find the closet.

It’s empty. Like the refrigerator. Does he even live here?

Well, it’s not quite empty because there’s a pair of men’s shoes placed for maximum effect in the center of a shelf made just to hold shoes. This closet would bring most women to orgasm. Hell, I’d die for a closet like this. Before I started my little hunt, that is. Because there’s something about all this that is making me very, very nervous.

The silver envelope is placed between the right and left shoe. I pick it up and slide the card out.

Dear Eloise,

Put them on. Yes, I know they’re too big. It’s a lot harder to walk in another man’s shoes than you thought, huh?

The next bedroom is two doors down.

McAllister

I put them on and my feet swim inside the soft, Italian leather. I have to scuff my way out of the red room and down the hallway to the next stop on my tour. I enter the bedroom expecting Mac to be in here. Waiting for me. To have sex, maybe.

But it, like everything else, is empty save for a silver envelope placed neatly on top of a fluffy white pillow. I walk over and notice that one side of the bed is made up perfectly, while the other is pulled down. Like someone has been sleeping on this side.

The envelope is placed on the pillow presumably being used.

I open it up and read the card.

Dear Eloise,

That bed is sad, right? Lonely. Missing something. I’m missing something too. I think you’re my missing piece. But before you come upstairs to the terrace I just want you to know I never said I was perfect. I never claimed to be perfect.

McAllister

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Mac

The moment I hear her soft footsteps coming up the stairs to the terrace I lose my nerve and toss the last silver envelope into the long, skinny line of fire that is burning inside a rectangular concrete pit. The edges catch first and begin to blacken, then shrivel. I will the fire to be hotter, burn faster, so that she won’t know I’m going to keep the last piece of the puzzle to myself.

“Well,” Ellie says from behind me.

I turn, careful to withhold the view of the burning envelope from her, blocking it with my body.

“That was quite a surprise, Mac. I’m not sure what to think about it.” She’s not wearing my shoes. They are far too big for her. She’s holding them, one dangling from each hand, with the bottles of Zombie Dust beer stuffed inside. She walks towards me. “That was quite the hunt you sent me on.”