Page 16 of Accidentally Yours
Stars above, stars below,
find the name that stole the show.
Past and present, red and gold,
where echoes of cheers never grow old.
Seek the seat where lovers met,
above the symbol they won’t forget.
Paige looked up at Ethan, expecting instant recognition like last time.
Instead, he was staring at the words, reading them again, his lips moving silently, his brow furrowed.
“I’m not sure about this one,” he admitted, the lines on his forehead deepening. He raised the paper in front of his face as if getting the words closer would help him make sense of it.
“Can you ask your grandma? She should know, right?” Paige asked the obvious question. If these clues were specific to her and Ethan’s grandpa, she should be able to tell them exactly where to look next.
Ethan’s face fell. A storm cloud billowed into his eyes. Paige sat up, startled. Did she miss something?
“I’m sorry, I—” she started, suddenly feeling horrible and not exactly sure why.
Ethan shook his head, stopping her. “My grandma has Alzheimer’s. She’s in a memory care facility.”
“Oh—” Paige gasped. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
He nodded, the clouds in his eyes dissipating. “I’m not sure she’d know. Some days are better than others.”
Paige nodded, feeling awful. He’d lost his grandpa and now, slowly, he was losing his grandma too. Life could be so cruel. She pursed her lips, trying to convey empathy in her eyes since words suddenly felt inadequate.
“That’s why I want to find the necklace. For my grandma.” His voice was hushed. “Her memories are fading, but objects from her past seem to bring them back. And that necklace holds a lot of memories for her.”
Paige’s heart squeezed. Hard. Like a lemon in a juicer. Ethan wasn’t searching for the necklace for himself. He was doing it for his grandma.
A lump lodged in her throat, and without thinking, she set her hand on his forearm. “We’ll find it,” she promised, surprised to see this side of Ethan. She nearly told him so, but before she could, a bright flash lit the side of her vision.
Both she and Ethan turned.
A woman stood amongst the tables, phone raised and pointed at them. Another flash.
Paige blinked. “Did she just—”
The woman stuffed her phone into her purse and bolted for the door.
Ethan was already on his feet. “We should go.”
Because this treasure hunt had just taken an unexpected turn.
Chapter Seven
Ethanleanedbackinthe sleek leather chair, stretching his legs out as he watched Paige glare at their editors like they’d just suggested she set her manuscript on fire. If he weren’t used to Marsha’s no-nonsense approach, he might’ve been just as stunned. He wasn’t. But Paige? Oh, she was appalled.
“We’re supposed towhat?” Paige’s voice sliced through the room like a blade.
Kaylor, Paige’s editor, beamed, completely unfazed. “Isn’t it perf?” she said as if everyone should immediately be on board. Ethan assumed she’d meant “perfect,” but the word got lost somewhere between her throat and the bouncing blonde ponytail. She had to be in her twenties, but looked like she might be skipping out on high school. Then again, at forty, every twenty-year-old looked fourteen to him. Had he ever looked that young?
Across the table, Marsha barely blinked at Paige’s reaction. Windy City Press’s senior editor was as battle-tested as they came. She had two decades in publishing and an unshakable instinct for sales. And she didn’t accept no as an answer. Clasping her hands atop the pristine white table, Marsha’s expression was as straight as the shoulder pads in her blazer.
