Page 3 of My Secret Snowflake
“I get that vibe too,” Jazmine says. We look at each other and then shrug. I wave good-bye and let myself into my room next to hers.
I pull up Liam’s text to send him a picture of me smiling next to Jazmine in front of the Eiffel Tower from a few days ago—to reassure him. But I can’t help flipping back to our text exchange fromthatnight. I had come home early from a cybersecurity conference, only to find two wineglasses, a trail of clothing, and a closed bedroom door. I’d texted Liam, who was dog-sitting in the neighborhood.
Me:Patrick…
But I couldn’t type out the words.
So I texted a photo of the trail of clothes. A black dress. Red bra. Patrick’s jeans. His lucky black shirt. A black pair of underwear. Boxers.
Me:Can u help me take my stuff home? Now.
Liam:I’ll kill him. You can stay there.
But I couldn’t.
A framed photo of Patrick and me staring at each other, love shining out of our eyes, on my desk, had caught my glance. And it felt like a dagger piercing my chest. I still remember the bitter taste of blood from biting my lip mixing with the salt of my tears.
Patrick saying he was sorry—that she was a mistake. The woman objecting to being called a mistake. Saying she was sorry to me and yelling at Patrick. Me telling her it wasn’t her fault. Fatma swishing her tail angrily and hissing at them both. The woman helping me pack up and telling me to take the chocolate and the ice cream. I didn’t want the chocolate or the ice cream. I wanted my boyfriend, or rather the boyfriend I thought he was.
My stomach clenches.I’m definitely not ready to fall in love again.
Noflightdelayandno cybersecurity crisis. And this is most definitely New York City and not Paris or Provence, as my best friend Maddie and I pass the corner pizza store we haunted as kids. The smell of melted cheese wafts over as someone exits out the door, a pizza box in hand. We’re actually on our way to Tessa and Zeke’s engagement party.
“I have such a good lead on this story.” Maddie is a reporter covering the city desk.
The gallery hosting Tessa and Zeke’s engagement party is in the middle of the block. In the top center of one narrow brick building, a woman perches on the windowsill, her face and body turned inward, her hand holding a cigarette out the window.
As we arrive at the gallery entrance, our friend Lily rushes up to us.
“I’m so glad you’re here. Tessa’s terrible paintings are gone. I put them right here”—she points at the front façade— “and I carried in the framed photos—because those are so personal—and I was sure nobody would take the paintings. But they’re gone.” Lily practically wails the last part.
“We didn’t see anyone coming this way carrying paintings,” I say.
Lily looks down the street the other way, but it’s empty. “I was only gone for five minutes. I got distracted buying Rupert a bulldozer T-shirt for Christmas.”
“They’ll be fine. They’re going to be so happy with the party and all their friends here to celebrate them. And Tessa will probably be relieved that she never has to be embarrassed by them again.”
Lily looks torn. “Maybe. Maybe I can pass it off that I ‘lost’ them on purpose. But they probably have some sentimental value, given that she painted them when she was trying to persuade Zeke she had some artistic talent.”
A cab pulls up, and Lily’s boyfriend, Rupert, alights. She rushes up to him and explains to him what just happened.
He pulls her in to hug her tight. “Are there any building personnel helping you with the setup?” he asks.
“No,” Lily says. “I met the super here, and he gave me the key. Then he bicycled off.”
“Maybe you can call him and ask him if any security cameras monitor this area,” Rupert says.
“Great idea.” Lily smiles at him, and it’s one of those smiles you know you’re not supposed to see, meant for just the two of them.
I feel very single.
“Maybe we should focus on getting whatever else needs to be set up first, and then if we have time, we can try to find the missing paintings.” Maddie pulls me through the front door, leaving Lily and Rupert alone.
I make sure all the electronics work, including my playlist, while Maddie greets the caterers and sets them up in the small back kitchen. Lily and Rupert hang up various photos of Zeke and Tessa over the course of their relationship.
As Maddie and I stand off to the side, surveying the room, Lily joins us just as her phone rings. She hits the button to answer.
After a moment, her eyes grow wide. “In the garbage?” Lily screeches. “Okay, okay. In the back?” She listens for a second then hangs up and shakes her head. “He says he bicycled back to check on me, feeling bad that he’d left so abruptly, and saw the paintings leaning against the window. Apparently, artists leaving paintings outside the building is a thing. There’s a rule—any art left outside goes in the garbage in the back. I must have missed his return when I went to the bathroom.”
