Page 132 of Tips and Trysts

“But—”

“And you deserve it,” he continues as he eases onto the gas when the light turns green. “Every astounding thing that’s about to happen to you, you’ve earned.”

“I couldn’t have carried out the plan without you.”

He shrugs. “I took a dick and wrote a check. I’ve done far worse to get much less. Today was all you.”

Now, I think about Felix’s confession: that my star burned too brightly for him to bear.

Everett Logan would never.

“So, what should we do now?”

He bobs his chin at the windshield. “Do you know where we are?”

I look outside the car window. “Eighteenth Street, which means we’re one over from Seventeenth, so…we’re running parallel to the White House, but we won’t actually see it… Oh no, is this a metaphor?”

Everett throws his head back and laughs. “We’re almost at the Halcyon. Let’s go home, put some more piercings in you, and get a drink. I’m buying. We can sit and decide who gets the first interview with Cora Flores.”

“Your big plan is to get a drink?”

“A drink in public where anyone can see us.” He grins. “I was thinking Smoke and Shadow.”

Smoke and Shadow. The bar where we met.

“Gin and tonics?” I ask.

“Always.”

“Will you insult my career?”

“Never again.”

“Will you berate the bartender if they put plastic cocktail straws in our drinks?”

“No shit.”

“Then we have a deal,” I decide. “But I’m buying this time.”

“Anything and everything you want,” Everett agrees before he pulls my hand to his mouth and presses his lips against my fingertips. “For the rest of our lives, anything and everything.”

Epilogue One

EVERETT

Six months later – Election Night

“Are you two tryingto kill me?” I question, glaring. “Typical. In my own house.” I shift the oversize plate of nachos in my hands. “Did your mother put you up to this? Because don’t let her fool you. She actually really likes me.”

Darcy and Lizzie peer up at me, yellow eyes pooled around their big hunter’s pupils. Darcy lets out a tiny meow, which I interpret as,She’s always vilifying me!, which makes Lizzie paw at him and meow, which I think means,Get over yourself. Nobody is thinking about you as much as you think about you.

“Hey,” I warn. “No fighting on election night. Tonight is a night for party unity.”

Now, they’re doing circuits over my feet, tails swirling around my legs.

Get a bonded pair, they said.They’ll play with each other, they said.Two black cats will be adorable, they said. Liars.

I can barely tell these cats apart. They’re chaotic balls of shadow, darting across my path no matter where I am in the house. If they’re not actively trying to break my neck, they’re napping on top of each other or play-fighting, and if that isn’t a metaphor for Cora and me, I don’t know what is.

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