Page 132 of Fall I Want
“Without a doubt,” I say. Then, just as promised, we meet the end of a line down a long, dark hallway with pictures hung on the wall.
“You’re serious about this?”
“Yeah, it’s Secret Pizza. So fucking good too.” I check the time. “We should move to the front so we don’t miss the show.”
“We can’t cut,” she whispers. “Be patient.”
The line is moving, but not fast enough. I tap the shoulder of the guy in front of me. “Hey. Can I pay you a hundred bucks to have your place in line?”
“Fuck yeah, man,” he says, and he’s tipsy, just like most of the people here. I hand it to him and Autumn giggles as I continue to pay off everyone until, eventually, we end up at the counter.
“What can I get ya?” the guy says.
“A whole pie. Pepperoni, mushrooms, a fuck ton of black olives.”
“And a slice with pineapple,” she says.
“Wedding is off,” I say with a laugh.
“You’re taking a bite just for that,” she warns as the guy slaps it in the oven to warm it up. I go to the cash register. “And I’d like to pay for everyone in line.”
The guy looks at me like I’m crazy. I step out and count how many people there are really fast, then I hand him ten grand. Whoever orders for the rest of the shift, let them have whatever they want.”
The manager comes over and the guy explains while holding a stack of cash. Autumn is shocked.
“Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” the manager asks with a smile. Dough flour is caked on the front of his shirt.
“Zane, sir,” I say with a firm shake.
“Thanks, Zane. Appreciate that. You’re gonna make a lot of hungry people happy,” he says.
“Great. That’s what I want to hear.”
A minute later, our pie is being removed from the oven and the box is handed to me. “Hope it’s good.”
“Always is,” I say, grabbing a stack of napkins.
Autumn smiles the entire walk down the hallway. When we’re out in the open, she steals glances at me.
“What?” I finally say once we’re halfway through the resort, hustling as we make our way to the water show. We have ten minutes before it starts.
“You really don’t care about money.”
“Some call it irresponsible. But every day, I make millions off of the interest alone by doing absolutely nothing. If I gave away a hundred thousand dollars a day, I’d barely notice. So I try, knowing that one act of kindness could completely change someone’s outlook on life.”
Her face softens. “How are you this normal?”
“My mother. She deserves all the credit. She was raised by blue-collar workers back in Oklahoma. My mother was an incredible interior designer and model, and when she met my dad it was history.”
We continue walking and I lead the way as we turn down another corridor.
“When Harper gave you your prophecy, did she remember what she said?”
“Not at first,” I explain. “What did she say?”
“Twin flames,” she mutters, as if she’s recalling every single word my sister said.
“Mirrored souls,” I finish, remembering exactly what my sister said to me. “It’s why, when you said my aura was red and I reminded you of a flame, I thought it was interesting.”
