Page 60 of Savannah Royals
“If you trusted me, ifwewere secure, you wouldn’t have to ask. Or send Abe to spy on me.”
“Kat, I’ve never asked you to be exclusive with me. Is that what you want? Are you testing me?”
“No, I’m not testing you. You know me better than that.” But he can’t have it both ways either—expecting me to blindly follow his orders, demanding all of me without giving all of himself in return.
“I can’t figure out if you want me to be jealous, or if you want me to ignore what’s happening altogether. Whatishappening, Kat?”
“I could ask you the same question,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
I tweak his jacket, right where the damning cash sits against his chest. “More Magpie tribute?”
“Yes, Magpie tribute from Craig. And from the Condors. The usual,” he lies smoothly.
I sniff and stare straight ahead. “You know what? Maybe I’ll be honest with you when you decide to be honest with me.”
“Iambeing honest with you. What do you think I’m doing in the bayou all week while you’re prancing around the school or off on dates with your new beau?”
“I don’t know what you’re doing, Paul, but it’s certainly more than the usual tribute payments and fleeces. Much more.”
“I’ve raised prices. And they’re getting antsy with firearms again. I didn’t want you to worry, but I confiscated three guns off the Magpies this week and moved them through Ray.”
“On the black market? Where they’ll just trickle right back into the Magpies’ hands in another week?”
“Ray only unloads the guns to well-vetted customers.”
“Or so he tells you.”
“He knows what I expect.”
“He’s abusinessman, Paul. He answers to the highest bidder.”
“We’re just gonna have to agree to disagree on multiple points today. I’m willing to shelve it if you are.”
“Fine.”
When we reach Farley’s, Paul asks me, carefully, about the Jekyll Island Club and Cherokee Cottage. We slip into familiar territory as I tell him the things I noticed about the structure, layout, valuables, and security.
“It’s not much,” I admit. “I wasn’t exactly able to give myself a grand tour.”
“It’s a good start.”
His response settles uneasily in my stomach, burrowing like a slithering snake.
Novemberbringscoldnightsand crisp falling leaves. Matthew and I alternate chaperoned and unchaperoned dates. We continue the charade through the school channels every two weeks, but in between, I meet him all over the city. We get dinner after his shift or take long walks. Sometimes we go into Marino’s Bakery and sample whatever Mellie’s recommendation of the week is. We can usually find a secluded space to be alone for a while too. He doesn’t invite me to his apartment, and I don’t push for it. I’m stillseeing Paul on the weekends, even though I feel more and more conflicted by the day. It’s getting harder to keep these two parts of my life separate.
One day blurs contentedly into the next until, suddenly, December and Christmas are looming. The day before my birthday, I’m busy soldering the metal bases for a series of earring fakes in the back room at Ray’s. Cleopatra’s near-complete cobra ring sits abandoned on a corner of my desk. As I work, its accusatory emerald eyes burn into me, jealous with neglect.
“Kat.” Ray’s head pops in from the front floor. “Can you come out here? I need your help with a customer.”
“Sure.” I blow away the smoky residue surrounding my desk. Ray rarely pulls me onto the floor; I wonder what he needs my help with.
I wipe my hands on a discarded polishing cloth and push through the swinging door. Ray is bent over a far counter, talking to a male customer with blond hair. The man’s back is to me, blocking the counter. They’re in the diamond section. I walk over to see what they’re examining.
“Ah, Katarina,” Ray says. “Perfect. We need you to settle a dispute for us. This young man believes you’d prefer this pair of Old Mine-cut diamond earrings while I’m betting on the French-cut pair over here.”
“What?”I round the final corner in shock and look at the customer. I do a double take. “Matthew?”
