“Yes, it is,” he says. “And that’s why I’m driving you home.”
It’s fifteen minutes later when he pulls into the driveway of the bookstore and then folds me into a big hug. “You didn’t kill Akia,” he says when he pulls back and meets my stare. “Don’t go trying to convince people otherwise, especially the police.”
If he only knew the truth, I think. If he only knew about Adam. I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted to tell him as much as I do now, but I also don’t know that there was ever a worse time to do so, either. Instead, I bite my tongue, nod, and slide out of my seat, shutting him inside his car and watching him drive away. Only then do I enter the building, and at this point the bookstore is closed for the evening, but it will be open bright and early tomorrow. I hurry up the side stairs, halting abruptly when I reach my loft level only to discover a small, jewelry-size box sitting in front of my door with a red ribbon. My stomach twists in knots. Adam is no longer silent.
I pick up the box and open my door. Once I’m inside, I sit down on a stool at the kitchen island and stare at the box, unsure what to expect. Does he know I dropped off that envelope to Mike? Is this some kind of punishment or warning? Oh God, is this something that tells me Mike is dead? With my heart beating like a drum, I rip off the ribbon and tear off the lid. I blink at the sparkling diamond necklace resting on black velvet but refuse to admire it, mentally rejecting the gift, all his gifts. Underneath I discover the cards I placed in the ceiling tiles. “Oh my God,” I whisper.
My cellphone rings, and I know without even looking that this is Adam calling, even without the alert from my earbuds. I hit the answer button, the earbuds allowing his voice to sound closer and more intimate as he says, “Hello, Mia.”
“Hello, Adam,” I reply.
“Do you like the gifts I gave you?”
“The necklace is beautiful,” I say tightly, but I have not missed the plural reference in the question. I’m just not sure what to make of it yet.
“Wear it tomorrow night,” he orders. “I’ll be close. Watching you.”
Did I tell him about tomorrow night? I don’t think I ever told him. “How do you know about tomorrow night?” I ask cautiously.
“Why would you miss Jess’s awards ceremony?” He doesn’t give me time to answer, not that it’s really a question. “What about the other gift?”
Does he mean the cards or killing Akia? It doesn’t matter, I decide. My answer is the same. “I want you to stop giving me gifts. Please.”
“I told you. Talk to me. That’s how you earn your independence, Mia.”
“I was handling it,” I say, not able to say Akia’s name aloud. “My boss is out sick. You have to give me time to make things happen.”
“You mean you were waiting on your security blanket to return. You do like your security blankets. That’s becoming a problem for me, or, more importantly, you.”
“She’s not a security blanket. She’s my boss.”
“So is Neil.”
The buzzer goes off on my door. “That’s Jess. She’s bringing dresses over for me to try on for tomorrow night’s event.”
He’s silent a moment before he says, “You refused to talk to me, Mia. Don’t do that again. And as for the cards, what I give you serves a purpose. Read them. Think about the messages. Learn from them. Keep them close, not far away.” He pauses again, and the buzzer fills the silence. For some reason that I cannot explain, I can almost imagine his smile of satisfaction as he adds, “I look forward to seeing what dress you pick.” He disconnects and the line goes dead.
He’s silent now, but he is not gone.
Chapter Eighty-Three
Jess enters the loft with her arms piled high with garment bags. “I brought you so many great dresses. You have to try them on before we eat. I know you. You’ll hate everything when your belly is full.” She’s already walking up my stairs toward my bedroom.
She’s not wrong, especially considering I haven’t been for a jog in a week, but the last thing I feel like right now, on the day I’ve learned of Akia’s murder, is trying on dresses. Even more so when I know this game of dress-up pleases Adam. “I’m starving,” I call after her. “And we need to talk about my father. I think you should leave the dresses and let me surprise you with the choices.”
She pokes her head over the side of the loft. “Are you serious? You know I love to play dress-up with you.”
The one thing she has in common with Adam, I think, but she was at my door this morning, comforting me while he stalks me. This is for her, not him, I remind myself. “Fine,” I say. “Fine. Dresses first.”
She grins and disappears over the rail again. I hurry up the stairs, and soon I’m inspecting gowns that she’s laid out on the bed, instantly drawn to a long fuchsia-pink gown. “That one.”
“Oh my God,” Jess says, shoving a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “Yes. The belted ruffled silk organza gown. That’s a Maison Common, my newest brand obsession.” She runs her hand over the skirt. “Look at the ruffles in the skirt to match the bodice.”
She has me at Maison Common. I’ve never heard of the brand, and it’s not a brand Adam has bought for me. Sold times a hundred, in fact. While, yes, I’ll be forced to wear the necklace he just gave me, which is presently stuffed in a drawer for my eyes only, at least tonight, I don’t have to wear anything else that remotely reminds me of him.
A few minutes later, I stand at the mirror and stare at myself in the gorgeous gown, in love with this as my choice. “I don’t have to try on the rest,” I announce. “This is the one.”
“Yes,” she agrees, stepping beside me. “Yes, it is. You look marvelous. I love it on you. It’s almost as if I bought it with you in mind, which I did not, by the way, but now I feel like I need to give it to you. It’s just so you.”
“No,” I say. “I will not wear it if you plan to gift it to me, because I might not know the brand, but I know it’s expensive if you love it.”
“One day I’ll rank as high as Adam, and you’ll let me buy you things. Just wear the gown and love it for the night then.” Fortunately, as usual, she doesn’t push hard and moves on. “Do any of the heels Adam gave you work for this dress, or do we need to try on shoes?”
I rotate, eager to continue the purge of all things Adam in any way possible, and my eyes land on a pair of strappy crystal Cinderella heels she’s set out for me to inspect. “Those,” I say. “I want those.” I unzip the dress and step out of it. “And now we eat pizza.”
“And now we eat pizza,” she agrees, ordering for us.
It’s not too much later, and we’re sitting at my kitchen island eating pizza from one of our favorite joints, delicious pizza that makes up for the horrid pizza earlier today, when she says, “No more glasses. We never talked about that, you know. Still the Adam effect?”
I’m stuffed or she’d have just ruined my appetite. “I suppose so,” I agree, dusting off my hands. “I went to the eye doc right before all this mess happened with Akia.”
“Hmm. Well, that’s a bad subject we’ll avoid tonight, but you look good. Beautiful, Mia. I’m so happy you’re starting to let yourself shine a bit. You deserve to feel good about yourself.”
“I didn’t feel bad about myself before,” I argue, “and I’m not sure I prefer this new me to the old, anyway, so don’t get used to this.”
She holds up her hands. “No pressure.” She reaches for another slice of pizza and takes a bite. “But since Jack isn’t coming tomorrow night, you want to invite Adam?”
“I think a you-and-me night would be nice,” I say quickly. “Unless you have a date?”
“I don’t,” she says. “I’m on a dud streak. What does a girl have to do to get a man who can kiss properly and knows when to touch and when not to touch? I’m all in for a you-and-me night.”
And for a moment it’s just like old times.
Me and Jess, hanging out, laughing, us against the world.
But it’s not us against the world. It’s me against Adam. And if I don’t win the battle, she could end up just like Akia. Dead.
Chapter Eighty-Four