Page 23 of We Used To Be Magic

‘Itmightbe fun.’ She shrugs. ‘Probably not, but …’

‘Thank you.’ I smile, and she waves her hand like it’s nothing. It’s not, though. We both know that it’s not.

The address is a neat, red-brick building, probably old and definitely fancy. By the time we reach the apartment door I feel a little lightheaded, either from nerves or the four flights of stairs we had to scale to get here. Doubt is creeping in now. I can hear music coming from inside – voices, laughter. What if I feel like just as much of an impostor in there as I did in that ballroom?

‘You good?’ Marika asks, and I nod stiffly. Too late to back out now.

She raps on the door, three sharp knocks. I straighten, wishing I looked even half as cool as she does right now in her tight, flared jeans and retro-cool halter top, hair brushing the small of her back. My black dress feels pretty drab by comparison, but there’s no point agonising over it now. Instead, I attempt some positive visualisation.This is going to be fun, Idecide.I’m going to have a good time. I’m going to meet new people—

And then the door swings open and my mind goes completely blank. It only takes me a second to place the familiar face in front of me, but when I do, no words come. What’s there to say?

‘Hey,’ the waiter says. I just stare, briefly meeting his gaze as his eyes flit between us. I can’t tell if he’s recognised me or not because his expression doesn’t flicker. But it’s him. Ezra. I’m almost totally sure that it’s him.

‘Hey. I’m Marika, this is Audrey,’ Marika says, oblivious to my mental turmoil. ‘Your friend Mac invited us.’

‘Mac, right. I’m Ezra. Uh – come on in.’

We step inside. Itishim. That’s what the chef called him. God, this is soweird, made weirder by the fact that he apparently doesn’t remember me. I have to say something—

‘Hey, you two made it!’

I turn, and despite having met him approximately one hour ago I feel a strange surge of relief at Mac’s approach. He’s grinning in a pair of loose black overalls, a tangle of silver necklaces at his throat.

‘You sound surprised,’ Marika replies.

‘I thought you might have something better to be doing – I guess not. Lucky us.’

‘Well, the night is young,’ she says coolly. ‘We’ll see.’

Mac’s smile widens. They’re the same height and he holds her gaze steadily, head cocked as though there’s an unspoken challenge between them. It might not be an unwelcome one, either.

‘You can’t go,’ he says, still grinning. ‘Whoever brought speakers is using them to hold us hostage to this godawful playlist. I need help staging a hostile takeover.’

Marika glances at me, a silentyou good?I reply with a tiny nod, seeing as there’s no way to silently communicate that the stranger she’s about to leave me with isn’t actually a stranger.

‘Fine,’ she says, eyes cutting back to Mac. ‘If only because I have excellent taste.’

He laughs and offers his hand. She ignores it but follows him anyway, and Ezra and I watch as they slip out of sight. A beat of silence, then – ‘I’m so sorry,’ he says. ‘I must be making a horrible second impression.’

‘I – you do remember me, then!’ I splutter, turning to look at him. Or up at him, specifically. Without my heels he’s a full head taller than me.

‘Yes,’ he says, a grimace tugging at his mouth. ‘There was a very limited window to say something before it got weird. I missed it, obviously.’

‘But you didn’t even look surprised,’ I manage. ‘I mean – this is such an insane coincidence.’

‘Yes and no. I mean – it was when I saw you at the gala thing—’

‘You were there?’

‘Yeah, uh – I was working it. I saw you at the bar just before you left – I wanted to say hi but it felt weird.’

‘Weirder than this?’

‘No. I can’t imagine anything feeling weirder than this.’

‘So … Mac. Did you ask him to invite us here?’ I ask, confused.

‘No! I mean – I told him I knew you but I didn’t ask him to do anything.’

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