Page 123 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Unaware of my watchful glance, Megan bounces heel to toe. Her light brown hair hangs freely down her back, framing her makeup-free face. Her nude lips are curved into a smile, and her hazel eyes are sparkling in the sun. Even in her dapper mood, her body can’t hide its panic. Her arms are covered with goosebumps, and the tips of her toes are blue, although her expression does not indicate her body's discomfort.
A dull ache stabs my chest. Is anyone looking out for her? She’s clearly unhinged.
My worry is pushed aside when the squeak of brakes shrieks through my ears. It’s closely followed by the polluted smoke you’d expect from a large coach. A white bus with ‘New York City’ displayed in LED lights in the window stops in front of Megan and me. Believing I’m waiting for the bus, Megan gestures for me to enter before her.
“Ah… I still need to buy a ticket.” I bite on the inside of my cheek, hating that my words come out with a quiver. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. At least I thought of something. I’m not usually quick-witted.
Megan’s grin exposes a chip in her front tooth. “The ticket office is through those doors.” She points behind me, her voice so weak she sounds like a child instead of an adult.
I stray my eyes in the direction she’s pointing. A large circular logo for Bellevue Buses is displayed on the front door. The frontage sign states they specialize in traveling interstate in comfort and safety.
Uneased, I return my eyes to Megan. “Thank you.”
I desperately want to ask her where she’s going, but she steps onto the bus before I can. When she hands her ticket to the overweight gentleman sitting in the driver’s seat, he eyes her attire in confusion. Even in his heated bus, he’s wearing a long-sleeve shirt and a knitted vest.
When the lady ‘reading’ the newspaper crosses the street to shadow Megan onto the bus, I dip my chin in greeting. She fills a vacant spot three places down from Megan before she recommences reading.
I wait until the bus is nothing more than a blip on the horizon before yanking my phone out of my pocket and dialing a memorized number.
“Miss me already?” Brandon jests a short time later.
The cool wind chills my teeth when I smile. “I do… but I also need a favor.”
“Another one.”
His chuckles settle the nerves in my stomach. I hate asking for favors.
“Megan Shroud was just seen leaving on a bus to New York. Can you please check if she purchased a one-way or a return ticket?”
“Yeah, hold on.” Fingers hitting keys of his keyboard sounds down the line, along with his heavy breaths. “It’s a one-way ticket.”
Relief washes over me. Hopefully, this is a sign Megan finally got the hint that Nick isn’t interested in her, but just in case, I add a little more sauce to my favor. “Can you add Megan’s name to the travel database? I want to know if she purchases a return ticket.”
Brandon remains quiet, but papers are ruffling.
“Brandon?”
I hear his cheeks rising. “Oh yeah, sorry, I was nodding.”
“Thanks, Brandon.”
He exhales sharply. “Anytime, Izzy.”
While placing my phone back into my pocket, a delicious smell streams into my nose. It smells distinctively like the scrumptious pies Harlow serves every day. Other than the message I got from her after I left Cormack’s office, I haven’t heard a peep from her. Before I stuffed everything up, we texted each other numerous times a day before finalizing our day with a call each night. I want to say her lack of contact is because she’s busy, but it’s more likely that she, along with everyone else, is still angry at me.
Determined not to make another huge mistake, I make my way to Harlow’s bakery. Because it's only mid-morning, the bakery is pretty deserted. When the bell above the door chimes, Harlow stops replenishing the cake fridge. Several heart-clenching seconds pass with her staring at me in shock. The silence is awkward. Usually, when we're together, no one can get in a word between us.
“I’ve missed you, Harlow.” My voice shakes with emotions. We’ve only been friends for six months, but she is, without a doubt, my very best friend. “Please let me fix this. I’ll do anything to make things right between us.”
The tears I’m fighting to keep at bay spring down my cheeks when she dashes around the counter to wrap me up in a fierce hug. “I’ve missed you, too.”
We cuddle for several minutes, only breaking when the bell above the door chimes for the second time. In sync, our eyes drift to the other side of the room. Renee is standing at the door, balancing a stack of bakery boxes on her slim waist.
Her brows fetter when she takes in our wet cheeks and glistening eyes. “Go sit, then I’ll bring coffee. You both look as if you could use a caffeine IV.” Guilt washes over her face, but it doesn’t stop her from saying. “Whoever invented the term ‘ugly crying’ was referring to this when they fabricated it.”
I laugh, adoring her sass. She reminds me of a younger, more rebellious version of Harlow. Although her comment was made in jest, it holds credit. I know I look like shit, but Harlow also appears tired and withdrawn. Dark rings dull her eyes, and her smile isn’t as bright as usual. After looping my arm around Harlow's elbow, I drag her toward our table. We assemble at the same table every time we get together here. It’s the table Isaac was seated at the first time I laid eyes on him in his home turf. Every time I sit here, the smell of whole grain and rye toasted cheese sandwich conquers up memories. Today is no different. Not even our brutal run-in can weaken them.
Harlow remains quiet while Renee wrangles up two mugs of coffee and a gigantic slice of pumpkin pie. “You can’t have coffee without pie.” After rubbing my shoulder, she makes herself scarce.
