Page 58 of The Dazzling Heights
The waitress smiled. “Tea is complimentary with your tower. We have teas from every nation on earth, and several off-planet as—”
“Whatever is your favorite,” Calliope said quickly, then lifted an eyebrow at her mom as the girl scurried away. “Come on, I know we’re celebrating something. What did this Nadav guy give you?”
Elise shrugged. “Show tickets, a funny little invention of his that tracks your heartbeat and muscle movements, nothing of any real value. But he’s asked for a family dinner soon,” she added, her tone lowering several octaves.
Calliope understood in a flash what today’s tea was about. She was being scolded—very lightly, with a lot of sugar and fanfare, but a scolding nonetheless.
“You want me to be friendlier with Livya.”
“I’m not asking for much. But it would have meant a lot to me, if you’d put in just ateensybit of effort with her at the ball.” Elise sighed. “I thought you were going to play backup for me, but you went off, focused on your own thing.”
“I was with a date, Mom,” Calliope pointed out.
Elise threw her hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “I get it, I get it. I know you like running your own little side cons.”They aren’tlittle, Calliope thought, slightly peeved. “And I never tell you no, do I? I think I’ve been more than fair,” her mom went on.
Calliope shrugged. “Of course I’ll do a family dinner,” she promised, as if she hadn’t done a million of them in the past—some ending with a wedding ring, others not. She wondered how quickly her mom would wrangle a proposal out of this relationship.
But Elise wasn’t finished. “I was hoping that you could play a little less … loose, when we’re at dinner,” she suggested. “Act more like Livya.”
“You mean act boring,” Calliope pointed out.
“Exactly!” Elise laughed.
The waitress deposited an opulent display of treats on their table. It tapered upward like the real Tower, complete with a miniature sugar spire. “This is lunar tea,” she said, pouring a steaming mug of tea that smelled vaguely like aloe. “My favorite. It’s grown on the moon’s surface. The plants see a much weaker sun, so their growing season is twice as long.”
Calliope took a tentative sip from the mug, which, sensing the tea inside, had shifted into a golden half-moon shape. She immediately spit it back, disgusted by the bitter taste. The waitress pursed her lips at her reaction, as if holding back a smile; and Calliope suddenly wondered whether the younger girl hadn’t recommended the revolting tea on purpose, just to screw with what she likely thought was a pair of entitled, rude women.
It was the kind of thing Calliope would have done, if she’d been in that girl’s shoes. She glanced down at her chic printed skirt and the fuchsia Senreve bag perched next to her chair. Did this girl think of her the way Calliope used to think about Justine Houghton? But she wasnothinglike Justine Houghton.
“Does that waitress remind you of someone?” she blurted out, after the girl had walked away.
“I don’t think so.” Elise was reaching around the offending tea for her water glass, with a cheerful slice of lemon floating on top. “Now tell me more aboutyourprogress. It’s clearly going well, since you didn’t even come home until Sunday morning.”
“I’m not so sure,” Calliope said, her usual confidence faltering. She didn’t know what to make of the situation with Atlas. She’d tried to scout around the Fullers’ apartment a little, later that night, but almost all the rooms had no-guest settings on their doorways. And she hadn’t really been in the mood to steal a random antique off a tabletop. She wanted something bigger. She wanted jewelry, but she had a feeling she might never get any from Atlas.
He’d been perfectly nice the morning after that party, sitting and eating breakfast with her, even calling her a hover home. But Calliope could see that his mind was elsewhere. Maybe he regretted letting her come over the night before. Not that anything had even happened between them; Atlas had been so drunk that he promptly passed out, leaving Calliope to sneak around their apartment uninhibited. Eventually she’d come back to his room and found a T-shirt of his before drifting off on the other side of the bed, alone.
“I can see why. That boy is almost too gorgeous to con.”
It was a moment before Calliope realized her mom meant Brice Anderton. “Oh, I just used Brice for an invite to the party. He’s not connable,” she said quickly, knowing that Elise wouldn’t push it. “No, I’m targeting a different boy. He’s the one I went home with.” She looked down at her hands, nervously slicing a cucumber sandwich into tiny triangles. Her mom always seemed to understand what other people were thinking, what they wanted. Maybe she would have some insight into Atlas. “Actually, I could use your advice,” Calliope admitted.
Elise leaned forward eagerly. “What else are moms for?”
Calliope told her everything. About how she’d recognized Atlas at the Fullers’ cocktail party and staged a run-in with him at the Nuage pool, then accepted Brice’s invitation to the Hudson Conservancy Ball knowing that Atlas would be at the same party. How she’d gone home with Atlas—proving, once and for all, her conviction that he did want her—only to realize that maybe she’d been wrong.
“Let me get this straight,” Elise said, reaching for a bite of scone. Tiny sugar-flecked pieces crumbled down, sparkling like scattered gems against the china plate. “You met this boy in Africa?”
Calliope nodded. “But then he left me one day, with no explanation. I never told you, because—”
“It’s all right,” Elise said quickly. They didn’t talk much about that con in India, the worst one they’d ever done. Elise had gotten involved with an older gentleman who worked in the government, and solicited a donation to a fake charity organization, but then the old man had died, all of a sudden, under mysterious circumstances. Suddenly the country’s entire police force had been after them. It had been so terrifying that Calliope and Elise had split up as they fled the country. Just in case.
“I just didn’t realize you ran a con in Africa,” her mom went on, sounding a little hurt.
“It doesn’t matter, because it didn’t work.”
“Yet. It didn’t workyet,” Elise corrected. She gave a narrow smile, her eyes glinting like a cat’s. “It’s a longer con than you’d expected, but who cares? You can afford to play a long game.”
“Not too long. He’s moving away soon.” It was less than a month before Atlas went to Dubai, to run his dad’s tower there. She had to get something from him before that happened.
