Chapter 20
Me: [Photo]
How happy are you to NOT be hanging out with us today?
I hope for the three dots but don’t get them. I thought surely a selfie in front of London’s famous Ferris wheel would warrant a response from Emerson. It doesn’t—just like my good morning text about breakfast and a midday check-in text teasing about being with siblings.
It’s been radio silence all day. If the song “Hot n Cold”were a person, it’d be Emerson. Actually, that’s a classic Sam exaggeration: making things out to be better than they are. The reality is more like “Warm n Freezing.”
“Covent Garden?” I ask the girls after we hop off the Ferris wheel.
“Yes! I want to check my two favorite shops there for anything new.” Sadie sounds very much the famous, best-selling, world-traveling author that she is. I smile, happy to have her here. You can tell we’re sisters, although her hair is a bit darker, her skin is dewier (thanks to a fifteen-step, custom-made skin-care routine), and her curves are tighter, thanks to her personal trainer.
I try not to be jealous of her, I do, but it’s hard some days. Not as much today, though, as she pulls her floppy hat farther down on her head, smashing into the oversize sunglasses she can’t take off unless she wants to be recognized. I’m also not sure how I’d feel about having a constant bodyguard.
Dean, an older guy who reminds me of a less attractive, more jacked Liam Neeson, is silent and almost invisible, but always there. It seems like it would be suffocating and comforting at the same time.
She’s fun, though, my sister. Not as extroverted as me—is anyone?—but not as hard and hermit-y as Skye. She and Skye are a lot alike in their tough love and quick wit, but Sadie has smoothed out her rough edges much more. It’s admirable, considering all she’s been through, none of which we are allowed to talk about.
“I can’t believe you get to come here regularly. Quit being so cool,” Nicole jokes as we get out of the car.
“Can’t help it,” Sadie jokes back. We make our way down the adorable cobblestone street that is giving me serious modern-day Hogsmeade vibes. The road is lined with storefronts, most with little awnings decorated with hanging potted flowers. The center is filled every few paces with a new set of roped-off outdoor seating, complete with folding chairs and individual umbrellas over each table. We pop in and out of shops, laughing, browsing, and sending selfies to my sisters.
“So, Emerson didn’t want to shop with us today, huh?” Sadie asks as we make our way to the next crosswalk.
“Can you even imagine?” I chuckle. “I think that would count as a legitimate method of torture for him, walking and talking with us. He’s hanging with his brothers today.”
“And how’s Operation Thaw going? Are you friends yet? Did the big rescue make it weird?”
“Yeah, how in love with him are you on a scale from One to He Saved My Life and Now I Must Have His Babies?” Nicole piles on with a laugh.
“That’d be a zero, thank you very much,” I say quickly. My stomach tightens, because it feels like I just lied, which I don’t do. But love? I may have the start of a crush. No one is loving anyone else.Not happening.
“Good. He’s so not your type, Sam,” Nicole says.
“My type?”I ask, not sure what she means, especially since now that I know him better, I feel like Emerson is basically everyone’s type: hot, brooding, gentlemanly, British . . .
“Yeah, you know, someone more like you. Not so serious.” She flips over one hand as she explains. She must catch the glance I give her, because it feels a lot like she just called me Shallow Sam without using the words. “You know, someone fun! Flirty, chatty, adventurous. Someone who can handle you in all your glory.” She bumps her hip into mine playfully.
“I don’t know, maybe serious is exactly what she needs,” Sadie chimes in as she checks out a sale rack on the sidewalk.
“I don’tneedanyone. Absolutely off men, remember? Why are we even talking about this? Sadie, would you like for us to talk about your love life for a change?”
She doesn’t look at me. “Point taken.”
“And Nicole? When is the last time you even went on a date? It’s been like a year.”
“I’m picky.” Nicole shrugs, causing her gorgeous dark curls to fall away from her shoulders.
“Uh-huh. Both of you can just shut up about . . . Emerson?” He appears before us on the sidewalk, with two lookalikes. The three of them could honestly be triplets.
“Miss Canton . . .” He’s surprised. It takes all my concentration to keep my face from falling and my shoulders from slumping. We’re back to Miss Canton, then.
“Hey, Emerson.” Sadie smiles at him beside me.
“Miss Canton,” he repeats, lighter this time. “And Miss Moreno, these are my brothers, Byron and Benedict.”
“Ben’s fine,” the second one says.