Page 28 of The One I Need
“Hey, Red.”
Fuck me sideways…
This. This is how he got me to say yes. Despite using that nickname, his voice puts me in some sort of hypnotic trance that makes me do shit I normally wouldn’t. That must have been what he meant when he asked me if I believed in magic. Only explanation.
“Hey, yourself,” I say.
“Have you been standing out here long?” he asks as he frantically checks his watch.
“Not long,” I say. “But don’t worry, you’re not late at all. I’m the one who got here a half hour early.”
He gives me a curious look. “Can I ask why?”
“I needed to get the lay of the land.”
“Lay of the land?”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “I don’t like surprises. I like knowing what I’m getting into. And since you insisted on not telling me the details of tonight, I decided to do a little recon.”
This makes him laugh. “And what did you figure out from this scouting mission?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. You’ve left me curious.”
He smiles as he puts his hand on the small of my back. It takes all my mental fortitude to ignore how good it feels.
“Well, then, let’s get you inside.” He leads me toward the boot shop, which would have been my last guess as to where we were going. I honestly thought it was a decoy. “We have a magical night ahead of us.”
* * *
It wasright freaking in front of me, but I overthought it. I analyzed every detail and every syllable, thinking that there was meaning within his already cryptic question.
He took me to a freaking magic show.
It was in the basement of the boot shop. The only thing that’s making this not awful is the show is set in a hidden speakeasy. And they make a hell of a Manhattan.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the Amazing Marcello!” The crowd gives a round of applause as the magician/comedian/fraud takes a bow before exiting the stage. I clap, because I’m not an asshole, but his whole act was a bunch of crap.
Make an object disappear, my ass. And don’t get me started on the “pick a card, any card” bullshit. They are marked. I don’t know how, but they are.
“Wow,” Oliver says when the applause dies down. “If he’s the warm-up act, I can’t imagine what the main attraction will be like.”
I stare blankly at him. “Really? You’re buying this?”
His face turns into shock in a nano-second. “You’re not?”
“Come on,” I say as I point to the stage where the wish.com Houdini just exited. “You know this isn’t real.”
“What if it is?” he says, turning to face me better. We’re seated at a small round table, and it doesn’t leave much room between us, which is a good and bad thing. Good because I can whisper my smartass comments to him during the show. Bad because I can smell his cologne and it’s just as mouthwatering as I remember it to be. “Isn’t it just fun to wonder about the possibility of magic?”
“No,” I say pointedly. “All I wonder is how he actually got those cards to magically float in the air.”
“Ah-ha!” Oliver points at me. “You said magically. You do believe!”
I shake my head. “Bad choice of words. Because I don’t believe. Sorry.”
Oliver leans his head on his hand. “What do you believe in?”
“Lots of things,” I say as I take a sip of my drink. I happen to take a look at Oliver, who is looking at me right now like I’m telling the most fascinating story he’s ever heard. “I believe in hard work. I believe only you can make your dreams come true. I believe in good whiskey, good sex, and the healing powers of a piping hot shower.”
