Page 147 of Gathered Sparkle

He doesn’t call me out, though. Instead, he straightens, pushing himself off the car. “Okay, follow me.”

He walkstoward the Mercedes, and I shout after him. “Hey! When will I get my car back?”

Without breaking stride, he calls over his shoulder, “It’s my turn, Copy.”

I groan, but there’s a grin tugging at my lips. Maybe fixing thiswillbe easier than expected.

I glance at Novalee, whose eyes are still on Nicholas’s retreating figure. She’s quiet, but there’s a storm of emotions in her expression—longing, hurt, regret.

“You okay?” I ask, squeezing her hand again.

She blinks, pulling her gaze back to me. Her lips curve into a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

I nod, starting the Bronco and following Nicholas toward the Heights. He drives into the underground garage, leaving Novalee and me to park outside and walk into the main lobby. She mutters under her breath, “I don’t like this hotel.” Her arms brush close to her sides as if she’s trying to protect herself. There’s a subtle shudder that ripples through her, and I feel a pang of guilt twist in my chest.

She got shot here.And as much as I want to tell her she doesn’t have to do this, I also know she’s too damn brave to back out now. She doesn’t complain, doesn’t protest, just walks inwith her head held high, but the tension is obvious in her every step.

And even more guilt gnaws at me for not checking in on her enough.

I should’ve asked how her wound is healing, anything to make sure she’s okay. But no. I’ve been too wrapped up with Levi, too busy obsessing over making this new coin act in Uncle Oscar’s memory flawless for the show. Normally, illusions of this level take months to prepare, but we’ve got less than two weeks.

It’s another reason why I’ve warmed up to the idea of sharing her with my brothers. I was only able to concentrate on something else because I knew Sylus and Ric had her.

Doesn’t make my lack of care any better, though.

“How’s your arm?”

She shrugs nonchalantly. “Oh, good. It hurts a little when I move, but nothing bad at all. It just looks… not so nice right now.”

“There’s no way anything about you could look bad.” The words come out easily, and I chuckle at the way she rolls her eyes.

“Shut up.”

“It’s the truth.”

I want to grab her hand to ground both of us, but I can’t. Not here, not in Veronica’s territory, when she still thinks we’re cousins and Novalee is Nicholas’s girl. Every move we make has to feed that illusion.

We come to a stop in the middle of the lobby, tourists and guests swarming around us. My name is murmured more than once, but I ignore it, and nobody openly addresses me.

“Please don’t look like a kicked puppy when Nicholas comes back. Veronica has to think you’re madly in love.”

Her eyes flash, a hint of indignation sparking there. “I don’t look like a kicked puppy.”

I raise a brow at her, my expression making it clear I don’t buy that for a second.

“I’m fine, okay?” she insists. “I can handle this. I don’t feel anything about the matter.”

“Little liar.”

Her chin lifts, defiance written all over her face. “I thought liars avoided eye contact. I’m looking you straight in the eyes, not glancing anywhere.”

“That’s a myth. Liarswantto see if their lie lands.” She blinks, thrown off for a second, and I take the opening. “Emotions always look the same.” I lean in a fraction closer. “Whether it’s a grandma, a child, a mentalist, or a little thief, the truth is written all over our faces.”

Her lips part, ready to retort, but then the elevator dings, and Nicholas steps out, his cap backward. He strides toward us, but before he gets a word out, Veronica appears from our other side, her assistant trailing behind her.

Her expression shifts from irritated to a saccharine smile in an instant. “Koen, darling! What a nice surprise. And Rosie,” she adds, her gaze sliding to Novalee. “What brings us the pleasure of your visit?” Then she turns to Nicholas, her smile turning icy. “What are you wearing?”

I glance at Nicholas’s athletic shorts and shirt as he shrugs, his tone clipped. “I was working out, Mother.”

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