Page 77 of Worst in Show

He puts his arm up on the backrest of the bench so his hand comes to rest near my shoulder. “I won’t lie—that was rough. Samantha and I met at Yale, got married at twenty-five—Martha’s Vineyard, the whole shebang. I meant my vows. She felt differently and moved on.”

He emphasizes the word meant, and that earnestness alone makes me want to reach out for him and rest my hand where his shoulder meets his neck. “And what about now? Do you still—”

His gaze latches on to mine, making the rest of my words catch. It’s as warm and heady as it was last night. “No. Now I’m moving on, too.”

I give the smallest of nods before I shift forward slightly. My lips part in anticipation as his fingers flex near my arm and make contact. I can almost feel his breath against my skin.

But then he stops, a pained expression chasing across his face. “Cora, wait.”

I’ve misread him. In an instant, I am as sure of that as I was of the opposite a moment ago. I scramble back and start bumbling an apology. “I didn’t mean… God, it’s this night, and the dress and… Ha. Why would you want to—”

“No, stop.” Leo gets up from the bench and spins to face me. “I do want to.” He takes off his crown and musses his hair with a hand, leaving it on end.

He does want to… I frown. “Then what is it?”

He sits back down, rolling back his shoulders. “Okay.” He blows out a breath. “Okay fine. I have to tell you something.”

“Clearly.” I try a smile, but he doesn’t reciprocate.

“And please believe me when I say, I didn’t know.”

A shiver runs up my spine. “You’re starting to freak me out. Didn’t know what?”

He extends his hand as if to introduce himself to me for the second time that night. When I take it, he says, “I’m AlCaponesGhost25. It’s nice to officially meet you SingerQueen.”

I can’t move. I think I heard him say what he said, but it’s simultaneously not possible.

“I’m sorry what?” I stare blankly at him.

“I didn’t know you were you,” he says. “Not until I saw the dress you were making, the Lincoln ball one, and then everything fell into place. Diane also has a Singer sewing machine—I had just never noticed it before. I would have told you sooner, but I honestly didn’t know how you would react, and I didn’t want to piss you off or string you along or pretend I didn’t know so I—”

“Just stayed away from the server this week,” I fill in, pulling myself free from his grip. That explains the absent Al mystery. I lean forward and rest my head in my hands. “But how? Why?” I look up again. “You were listed as an international member.” It comes out as an accusation.

He makes a pinched grimace. “Because I’m a ‘ghost.’ Ghosts can go anywhere.”

I sputter a baffled laugh despite everything. “Pfft, that’s… I don’t even… But you’re not twenty-five either. How do you explain that one?”

“My birthday is February fifth. And don’t forget you said you’re a clothing designer. That you travel for work.”

I snap my mouth shut. He’s right, I did. We both did what people do online—embellish, withhold, dream. This was not supposed to happen.

“Cora, it’s not the end of the world, right? It’s like a freak coincidence.”

But I was complaining about him to “Al.” As our conversations return to me in snippets, I realize he was complaining about me. What else have we said that we shouldn’t have?

My phone rings in my pocket before I can go down that path. “Sorry, hold on.”

My first thought is that it’s the nursing home. I don’t know why—I have no reason to think something would have happened to Harvey, but that’s why I pull it out in the first place. Turns out, it’s my mom.

“It’s okay. Take it.” Leo gets up and walks away a few steps.

“Thanks. I’ll be quick.” I turn away from him. “Mom?”

“Hi, hon.”

“What’s going on?”

“Not right now, Martin, I’m talking to Coralynn. Yes, put the paints in the bin over there. Did you get batteries?”

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