Sidekick Returns (20 page)

‘Ryder would never approve of this plan. Choden would never approve of this plan. Because there is no plan.'

‘Queenie, this is something I have to do.'

‘No, it's not.' She crossed her black-gloved arms across her chest. ‘That's just something people tell themselves when they do stupid things.'

This sucked. Disapproving Queenie was even worse than misanthropic Queenie.

‘I don't know how to explain it,' I said, looking up to the sliver of sky between the buildings. ‘I have this vision of us all working together, like we did that night at the prison. Ryder, Choden, you, me, Bart. Fighting crime. Eating samosas.'

‘Random.'

‘Sorry. I'm hungry most of the time. But the vision has us working together to make the world a better place. We all belong. That vision can't come to life without Ryder, and I know there is something more going on with her. Most likely something to do with my father.'

She recrossed her arms over her chest.

‘Everybody thinks this is going to be a disaster, but you're forgetting, I took the lead on thwarting—'

‘The crime of the century, so you keep saying.' She sighed. ‘Even if I were buying into your dream, you have to know we were lucky that night at the prison. Very lucky. And we had Choden and Ryder with us.'

‘Well,' I said with a confident nod, ‘here's hoping my luck hasn't run out.'

She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘Appropriate. A death euphemism.'

‘I really wish everybody would stop talking about my dying. I think we are just going to have to agree to disagree,' I said, not meaning that at all, and trying to think of a way to make her agree.

She didn't answer.

‘Well, I guess I will just go inside now,' I said without moving.

Still nothing.

‘Oh, come on. No
Go team! I've got your back
?'

Nothing.

‘Break a leg?'

I felt my pretty bronzed shoulders droop. I shuffled my way towards the mouth of the alley. Right before I turned the corner, I looked back at Queenie. ‘Just wait. You'll see. This is really the right move.'

Chapter 25

This was totally the right move.

It didn't take me long to rally once I stepped into the glittering decadence of the museum. Elegantly dressed tables shimmered softly under the flickering chandlers as people in evening wear milled among long dead giants with their skeletons on display for our amusement—now that felt like money. I hadn't completely disregarded what Queenie had said, but really, I think she was just hurt I hadn't let her in on the plan in the first place. She'd see. Everybody would see. Tonight, I would find something to prove that my father was behind Ryder acting strangely. Then everyone would have to get on board. The proof would be in the pterodactyl pudding.

I glanced at the watch of a man passing by. If I knew rich people, and I knew rich people, things wouldn't get really going for about another hour, which meant I had at least that long to find Pierce and beguile him with my golden majesty before I could expect the sky to fall on our heads. I scanned the room. Even though most were participating with the masquerade theme, I could still recognise a good portion of the crowd. I spotted one older lady in wheelchair on the other side of the marbled foyer. Mrs Winterbalm! I loved Mrs Winterbalm. She was always telling dirty jokes at fancy parties, and how could you not love someone who is always telling dirty jokes at fancy parties? Well, her sons never liked it. I could see them too. They were never far from their mother—probably afraid that one day she'd start dropping money, and they wouldn't be there to catch it. Currently, though, they were doing the classic
scotch glass point
with their conversation companions. My father's contemporaries were always doing that. I guess your finger point had more power when it came from a hand clutching a glass of expensive hooch. It was so douchey, and yet, I was starting to feel a little misty with nostalgia. Oh! And there was the guy who always wore the cravat! I could never remember his name, but I knew he was big-time money. He still had his shock of pure white hair waved back from his overly tanned forehead, and tonight, it was a navy blue cravat that pouffed out of his sailor jacket. He always dressed nautically too, even at black tie events. I grabbed a champagne flute from a waiter passing by and raised it slightly in the air before whispering, ‘Stay strong, Cravat Man.'

I took a sip of champagne. The taste almost brought me to my knees. Champagne, beautiful, sweet champagne. How I missed its internal bubbly caress. I took another long sip. I knew I had to be careful. I hadn't eaten since, well, the champagne was already making it hard to remember the last time I'd eaten, but it was just too much pleasure to resist.

‘Sushi!'

The new waiter walking past jolted as I made for the tray.

‘You need to cover me,' I said.

The waiter's eyes widened slightly.

I leaned over the tray, rolling my eyes up to his. ‘This isn't going to be pretty.' A moment later when I was through, I straightened and delicately dabbed the corners of my mouth with a napkin. The waiter still wore the same frightened expression.

‘Come back soon, my love,' I whispered, gently laying the napkin back on his gleaming silver tray.

My brain swam with the influx of calories and sweet alcohol that hadn't just come out of a bucket in a mobster's garage. This is what joy felt like.

See? I knew Queenie was just being a Debbie Downer. The universe was with me on this one. I could feel it. Just as I had the thought, I saw
him
making his way through the crowd, his glowing blond head towering above the rest. He smiled at everyone he passed, politely waiting to be excused as he carved his gentle path through the people. He was headed in my direction, but not looking my way. When he finally broke through the throng, I was hit with the force of seeing him in his entirety.

A tuxedo. My God, Pierce was a wearing a tuxedo. I wanted to weep. He raised his right hand to adjust his glasses as his face slowly turned in my direction. Our eyes met. He stepped towards me, smile spreading across his face. I knew … in that moment I knew … once he made it to my side, he would never leave it again. As he neared, his mouth opened to speak. I needed to fight my way through the electric connection humming between us to hear his sweet words of love.

‘Hello … friend.'

‘Dammit, Pierce.'

He smiled then sipped from the champagne he had just taken. ‘You look beautiful.'

I hopped a little into the air. ‘I know, right?'

He chuckled.

‘That sounds bad, doesn't it?' I asked, frowning behind my veil. ‘I just mean, that every time we've gone out, I've always looked, I mean, I was always dressed a little bit—'

‘You were always beautiful.'

‘Careful, sailor,' I said with a smile. ‘You keep talking like that and you might have to bring this ship in.'

Pierce cocked his head in question.

‘I don't know what that means,' I said with a quick headshake.

‘I like your disguise too.' He pointed to my gauze veil. ‘And you'll need it. Cassie Mack is here.'

‘The tabloid reporter?'

He nodded.

‘Not to worry,' I said, casting a furtive glance about the room. ‘I've gotten pretty good at flying under the radar.' I glanced back at Pierce whose eyes had widened. ‘And you'd be wise to keep that sceptical look to yourself.'

A moment passed as we both looked down at our glasses.

‘So,' I finally said.

‘So,' he replied, rocking back and forth on his heels. ‘What's it like being back among the glorious one percent?'

I pursed my lips and thought about it. ‘Pretty … and weird. Pretty weird.'

‘You never did tell me why you were coming to this thing,' Pierce said, searching my eyes with, dare I say, a little pained hope. Oh yeah, despite how we ended our last phone conversation, he still wanted to be with me. He was just being cautious. A brain chip shot into your head by your potential girlfriend's father does that to a guy. But that's another story. ‘You know, there's a good chance your father might be here.'

‘Yeah, that seems to be the general consensus. But, well, given our difficulties with honesty in the past … well, my difficulties,' I said, placing a hand on the gold bodice of my dress, ‘I'm just going to be honest here, and say that when you said we probably shouldn't see each other anymore, I panicked, and here I am.'

‘I'm glad.'

An
oh boy
feeling filled my chest. ‘You are?'

‘I am,' he said, taking a step closer. ‘After I got off the phone with you the other night, I was surprised by how upset I was, and I realised I was that upset because I care … a lot. I can't stop thinking about you. Even when I think it's best to forget about you, I'm … thinking about you.'

‘Well, that's good?'

‘I don't know,” he said rubbing his forehead a little. ‘You push me out of my comfort zone, and maybe that is a good thing. Plus we met at a really crazy time in your life, but that doesn't mean that you don't ever have downtime, right?'

I paused a moment to try to get a hold of all the excitement building in my chest. This was just too good to be true. It was like Pierce had read the script of everything I had hoped he would say to me. ‘Oh, you have no idea how much downtime I have,' I said, shaking my head. ‘Just ask Austin and Victoria.'

‘Who?'

‘Oh, the pigeons on my fire escape.' I waved a dismissive hand trying to kill the subject, but I still added, ‘They've recently joined the cast.' I was babbling like an idiot.

‘Um … right.' He gave me a sideways look. ‘But you like quiet nights in? Movies? Popcorn? Good books by the fire?'

‘Oh, I
love
those things,' I said, suddenly noticing something out of the corner of my eye. Someone, actually, on the wrap-around second level … someone who looked an awful lot like the Crime Mime stumbling about … drunkenly? I snapped my gaze back to Pierce. ‘I also like Sunday mornings in bed, and picnics in the park.'

‘I mean, it's not like you've always got something crazy on the go,' Pierce said. I glanced back up at Bart. Oh my God, was he throwing up in a vase?

‘I've said,' Pierce said, reaching for my hand, ‘that part of my reluctance to pursue, well, you and me is a result of what happened to my parents. But I've realised … sometimes we all have to make choices for the greater good.'

Uh-oh, now Bart was leaning over the balcony railing. Was he going to throw up on the crowd? Suddenly, I realised Pierce had followed my gaze. ‘You know that mime, don't you?'

I paused a beat, then nodded.

‘And you two have some sort of … shenanigan on the go?'

‘Well, to be fair, in my mind, it didn't start out as a shenanigan, but it does seem to be headed in that direction, yes.'

He dropped my hand. ‘Do you get who your father is? He isn't going to let you—' Pierce stopped himself pressing his lips tightly together. He sighed then muttered something like, ‘No point.'

I reached for his arm. ‘When I first decided to come here tonight, it was for you. Only you. The other thing just kind of got tacked on! I'm going to cancel it right now. I swear. And then we can talk more!'

He inhaled deeply before saying, ‘Sure.'

‘No. No. No,' I said squeezing his wrist. ‘I know that
sure
. That
sure
doesn't mean anything like sure. Look, Pierce, I'm trying to figure out a lot of things these days, and—'

‘I thought maybe you were giving up this whole crime-fighting business.'

I dropped my hand. ‘I didn't say that.'

‘At the restaurant,' he said, ‘before I got the call about the wrestling, I thought maybe you were having doubts.'

‘I … I think you heard what you wanted to hear.'

He leaned back, hurt in his eyes.

We stood looking at each other, inches away from touching, neither one of us able to find the words that would bridge the gap. Pierce's eyes flicked up. ‘Your mime is teetering on the railing.'

I whipped my head around to look at Bart. He did seem to be an inch away from leaning precariously too far. ‘You had better go take care of that.'

I turned in the direction of the stairs, ‘Promise me we'll talk more.'

‘Sure.'

I swung back to Pierce, eyes wide.

‘Go,' he said shooing me, sad smile on his face. ‘The mime needs you.'

‘He's going through a bad break-up. This will just take a minute.' I strode towards the steps, but then stopped. ‘Oh, and if you see my father … just stay away from him.'

Pierce shot me a questioning look, but I didn't have time to explain. I hustled over to the stairs. Okay, maybe this had been a mistake. Perhaps I shouldn't have tried to solve all of my life's problems in one night. Maybe Bart was right. I needed to slow down … really think about everything I was doing instead of just reacting. And yes, doing that might hurt because everything in my life was pretty crappy, but I couldn't avoid it forever. I hurried up the first half dozen stairs. I needed to get Bart out of here, and then maybe I could kidnap Pierce and go for coffee before my wrestling match. Then we could really talk. Yeah, good plan. My father couldn't teach me a lesson or hurt Pierce if we weren't here. Realistically speaking, I wasn't going to find out anything useful about Ryder anyway, and who knew what my father had planned this time. I needed to get out of h—

‘Hello, Brianna.'

The world tilted.

Too late.

Chapter 26

‘You look lovely.'

Cold emotion ran down my body as I turned to face my father. He had always been an attractive man. And while his good genetics were the main source of his handsomeness, it didn't hurt that he was always immaculately groomed. That was certainly true tonight—his tuxedo was expertly tailored, his shoes were oiled and supple, his watch probably matched the GDP of a small nation in value—the ideal man. The man who had tried to kill me.