Second Hearts (The Wishes Series) (37 page)

Seraphina nodded, smiling eagerly.

Zahn squeezed my fingers so tightly I thought he was going to break them. “We want to hear ev-ery-thing, darling,” he enthused.

It wasn’t a tough story to tell. I liked the story of Adam and Charli. Apparently Zahn did too. He burst into tears half way through the tale, blubbing so uncontrollably that I had to wait for him to pull himself together before continuing.

“So you searched Africa, looking for him,” he breathed. His exotic accent seemed to slip along with his concentration. I suspected that Zahn from Europe was actually Gary from Brooklyn, but held off on calling him on it.

“Ah, no,” I corrected. “I was on a surfing trip in Africa. Adam has always been in New York.”

“Yes,” said Sera giggling. “Searching Africa would’ve been pointless. I can’t imagine Adam hanging out somewhere like that.”

Nor could I, and that realisation was a dull but constant hum in my head.

“I’m hoping to change his mind.”

Seraphina glanced at me and smiled, albeit uneasily.

My story wasn’t the only one told that day. I learned that Sera wasn’t particularly fond of her circle of friends.

“I love Jeremy, of course. Whitney and Adam have always been sweet to me, but I wouldn’t trust the others as far as I could throw them.” She shuddered and I was suddenly keen to know more. Zahn was too, saving me from appearing nosy by demanding that she elaborate. “Tell us ev-ery-thing, darling.”

Apparently Kinsey’s career in bitchiness was long. She’d done everything from passing off Sera’s college assignments as her own to hitting on her boyfriend. Sera’s revulsion for Parker stemmed from the hundreds of times he’d made a move on her.

“He’s a smarmy low-life,” she growled. “But I figure Kinsey deserves him.” Zahn threw his greasy blonde head back and cackled. Sera and I laughed too, mainly at Zahn. There was nothing funny about her story. At times she’d been just as tormented by them as I was.

I left the salon with new nails and a new opinion of Seraphina Sawyer. I understood her a little better. Hopefully, she felt the same. If not, I’d just given her a whole lot of ammunition to use against me.

***

I didn’t go straight home. I’d received a curious phone call from Adam asking that I meet him outside a café all the way down near Battery Park.

“Take a cab and make sure you wear something warm,” he instructed. “Oh, and Charli?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

I would’ve returned the sentiment, but in true New York style, he’d already ended the call.

Peak hour traffic in Manhattan is abominable. The long cab ride seemed to take forever so I cut the journey short and walked the last few blocks. Needless to say, I was late.

“Where have you been?” asked Adam urgently, striding toward me. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Of course I was coming. It just took a while.” He wrapped both arms tightly around me. “What are we doing here?” The financial district wasn’t usually one of our haunts. I leaned back, needing to see his eyes.

He squinted mischievously, making the manoeuvre totally worthwhile. “I have a surprise for you.”

I didn’t ask what. It was never going to be a bad surprise. I just held his hand and tried to keep up as he marched along the footpath. We ended up in front of an office building that was so tall a car could’ve driven through the front doors with ease. Adam led me across the marble foyer to a reception desk that looked lost in the wide open space.

Curiously, the woman at desk knew him and greeted him by name. “I’ll call ahead and make sure your father is in,” she offered, reaching for the phone.

Adam smoothly protested. “No, no. It’s fine. I was hoping to surprise him.”

We were in the building that housed Jean-Luc Décarie’s law offices. It was a crappy surprise, after all. I’d enjoyed the few days reprieve we’d had from his family.

The receptionist smiled. “Go on up then,” she permitted, pointing toward the row of elevators.

I said nothing. I trailed behind as he led us into the elevator. The doors closed and I stood studying the brass plate on the elevator wall. “Décarie, Fontaine and Associates. Level forty-three,” I read.

Adam hit the button for the roof level. “We’re not here to see my Dad.”

“What
are
we here to see?” I asked, feeling curious and relieved at the same time.

He glanced across at me, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’re here to see magic on the roof, Charlotte.”

The rooftop was a restricted area. The elevator stopped a floor below and an audible recording told us it was the end of the line. Adam reached into the pocket of his coat, pulled out something that looked like a hotel room card and swiped it along the keypad. The elevator hummed and we continued the short journey upwards.

“Did you steal that card?” I asked, thrilled by the prospect.

“The harder the access, the sweeter the find, Charlotte.” It was the same statement I’d made to him a million years ago when we were scaling a fence to get to a private stretch of beach in Pipers Cove. It reminded me of how much he loved small details.

The freezing cold air hit me the second we were outside, and I lingered by the door. “Come and see,” Adam urged, waving me over as he walked to the fenced off edge. “It’s incredible.”

“I can see it from here,” I lied.

He abruptly forgot the view and turned to face me. “Are you frightened?”

Until then, I didn’t think I had a problem with heights. I’d changed my mind somewhere between the sixtieth and seventieth floor. “A little bit,” I conceded. “We’re a long way up.”

Adam ambled back to me as if he was using the time to plot his next move. He reached for my hand and led me to what looked like a big metal air-conditioning box in the centre of the roof. We sat down and I snuggled into him. The humming box was warm, working hard to heat the offices below.

“Better?”

I nodded. My legs had stopped shaking, probably at the realisation that we could no longer accidentally tumble off the edge. I couldn’t even see the edge any more.

“It’s a pretty view,” I told him, looking at the skyline ahead.

“We’re not here for that view,” he said enigmatically. “We’re here for
that
view.” He pointed upward and I looked to the hazy sky.

“The clouds?”

“No, the stars. We’re a bit early, I guess.”

I cast my mind back to the conversation we’d had that morning. It occurred to me that his day of research and studying had nothing to do with his class work. I turned my head, smiling at him. “You researched second hearts, didn’t you?”

“You knew I would.” He grinned. “You want to hear what I learned?”

Enjoying the warmth, I lay back on the metal box and looked to the sky. “Of course I do.”

Adam had found out something I’d known to be true for a long time. Fairies gift new babies a second heart when they’re born.

“They’re shiny and silver and stay with us until we die,” he recited, lying down beside me. His head was turned toward me, but I kept my focus on the overcast sky above.

“I’m very impressed.”

“The fairies reclaim them once we die,” he added.

“Then what?”

His hand reached across my body, slipping inside my coat and coming to rest on my heart. His cold skin sent a shudder through me, but I made no attempt to move out of reach.

“They hang them in the sky. They become stars,” he whispered. “They’re picky though, the fairies.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They only take the brightest hearts. If they haven’t been treasured and looked after, the hearts become blackened and tarnished.”

I let out a long breath that came out in an unsteady shiver. “That’s the tragedy.”

“Yeah. No one wants their second heart to become the rattling ball in a can of spray paint.”

I frowned at him. “Is that what happens to them?”

Adam laughed, hard enough that his hand trembled on my chest. “No. I’m lying about that part. I couldn’t find what happens to the reject second hearts.”

I turned on my side, cuddling into him as if we were in bed rather than lying on an air conditioner box seventy stories above the street. “Well, it’s my understanding that they polish them up and reuse them. Fairies are big on recycling.”

He reached forward, stroking my cheek with the back of his free hand.

“These stories sometimes confuse me.”

“Why?”

“Well, how do you know which is the truth? Are stars stuck in the sky serving a punishment, big rocks that splinter into diamonds or second hearts?”

“They’re whatever you believe they are,” I replied. “That’s the beauty of magic. There are no rules.”

He leaned in, pressing his cold lips agai
nst mine. “You have no idea how lovely you are, Charlotte.”

Hanging out on the top of the office building was the best few hours we’d spent together in a long time. It was a true escape from the busy city.

We didn’t stay to see the stars. Getting locked up there after business hours was a bigger risk than either of us was prepared to take. But skipping out early dulled none of the magic. Both of my hearts were positively gleaming.

***

It had been a good week. Drama had been at a minimum and attention from the cute French-American boy had been at a premium. That was why I was caught off guard by the huge bouquet of flowers on the dining room table that morning. I knew they weren’t from Adam. Gifting me ostentatious floral arrangements wasn’t his style.

“They arrived a few minutes ago,” he said, sidling up behind me. “Mom sent them.”

The way he kissed the back of my neck usually set me on fire, but his touch was powerless. I was too focused on the stupid flowers. “Why would she do that?”

“It’s her way of apologising. She also wants to take you to lunch.” I backed away, fighting the sudden urge to set fire to the flowers, and uselessly tried to wrestle free of his grip. “Why, Adam? It’s just asking for trouble.”

He didn’t seem to pick up on the terror in my voice. I was beginning to suspect Adam saw only what he wanted to.

“At least she’s making the effort.”

“Don’t you wonder why she’s making the effort?”

“Please, Coccinelle.” His technique of breathing the words into my neck was nothing more than trickery. It made protesting impossible. “Just meet with her and sort it out. For me.”

It would only be for him. It was only ever for him. If it were up to me, Fiona and I would never cross paths again.

31. Snookered

The queen decided we would meet at a fancy restaurant called Palmeraie. I’d never even heard of the place. Studying the map Marvin had drawn me, I realised it was going to be a long walk.

More than happy to be late, I meandered ridiculously slowly, as if headed to my own execution. I had no idea how I was going to handle her. All I knew was that this would be my very last attempt at calling a truce.

The only advice Adam had given me was wardrobe-related. “Palmeraie is very up-market. You should wear a dress.”

As unhelpful as his advice was, I arrived at the restaurant wearing one of the only three dresses I possessed.

Choosing between outfits wasn’t difficult. I doubt my new mother-in-law would have appreciated seeing my gorgeous wedding dress that late in the game. My black cocktail dress was probably a bit over-the-top too. My other dress wasn’t anywhere near as special, but far more appropriate. The cowl neck wool dress was itchy beyond belief, but I tried hard to hold myself together. Fiona had already formed the opinion that I was a vagrant pauper. I didn’t want to give the impression that I had fleas too.

I saw her as soon as I walked in, sitting at a table near the window, decorously sipping a glass of wine while she waited.

Escorted by the maître d’, I approached. Fiona stood up, greeting me with the fake little double-kiss that the Décaries are so fond of. “Hello, darling,” she greeted. “Sit down, please.”

Said the spider to the fly
.

The maître d’ pulled out my chair and I sat down, trying to appear more settled than I felt. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“I am just pleased you agreed to come.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Her eyes dropped to the table as she absently rolled the stem of the wineglass with her fingers. “You bring out the worst in me, Charli. The frustration caused by the choices my son has made is insufferable.”

“You need to find a way around it, Fiona,” I suggested. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You really do love him, don’t you?”

“With all that I have.”

“But you have nothing, Charli,” she said bleakly, cutting me down. “That is what concerns me.”

An unbearable silence set in. Fiona’s eyes kept glancing at the door like she was hoping someone would show up and rescue her.

“Am I keeping you from something?”

Perhaps embarrassed by being caught out, her eyes drifted back to mine and I had her undivided attention – for about three seconds until the person she’d been waiting for walked through the door.