Lair of Dreams
“How are you—” Evie said at the same moment Jericho started to speak. They laughed nervously.
“You first,” Evie said.
“I’ve been listening to your radio show. It’s very good. You’re a natural.”
“Gee. Thanks,” Evie said, blushing at the compliment.
An awkward silence descended. Jericho cleared his throat and gestured in the direction of the dining room. “Have you eaten? We could have tea in the dining room. For old times’ sake.”
Evie glanced toward the elevator. “Oh. I’m actually on my way out. I’m just waiting for Mabel.”
Jericho stepped a little closer. He smelled clean and woodsy, as he had that morning on the roof when they’d kissed. “I’ve missed you,” he said in his deep, quiet way.
Evie’s breath caught in her chest, a painful ballooning. Her feelings for Jericho had been manageable when he was only a memory. In the whirl of parties and the radio show and, yes, the arms of other, fun-loving boys, thoughts of him could be pushed aside, she’d found. But here in person, it was an entirely different matter. Evie looked up into his eyes. “I…”
“Is that the Sweetheart Seer?”
“Why, it is! It’s her!”
Excited burbling filled the front of the lobby as a few of the Bennington residents recognized Evie. She took in a sharp breath and stepped back.
“I… I have to go. I’m late for a cake—I-I mean a party! A party with a cake,” Evie said, sounding as dizzy as she felt. “Tell Mabel I said good-bye.”
“Wait! Don’t go.”
Jericho reached for her hand, catching the tips of her fingers just as the elevator doors opened and Mabel flounced out in her new yellow dress like one of Isadora Duncan’s dancers.
“Daaaahling! It is I, Mabel BaraSwansonKnightBow… oh.”
“A vision of what?” Mabel joked. Her eyes flicked from Evie to Jericho and back.
“Golly. You looked like you were having a very serious conversation. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Mabel said.
“Just passing the time until you arrived,” Evie chirped, her panic mounting. Any minute now, she feared, he’d say something about what had happened, breaking Mabel’s heart and scarring their years-old friendship.
The revolving door swung around again as Sam pushed through, talking loudly to Jericho across the lobby. “See, the trouble with Nietzsche, besides his being a real killjoy, is that he thinks like a spoiled seven-year-old who doesn’t want to share his sandbox toys—”
“Sam! Sam, over here!” Evie blurted.
A smirking Sam sauntered over with his hands in his pockets. “Well, if it isn’t the Queen of Sheba. Just the girl I’m looking for. Did Freddy tell you the news about our Diviners exhibit? I was thinking that—”
Evie threw her arms around Sam’s neck. “Sam, there you are! You’re late. Oh, but I don’t mind. How handsome you look!”
Sam’s brow furrowed. “Forgive me, Miss. I thought you were Evie O’Neill. Clearly I’ve mistaken you for someone else.”
Evie laughed too hard. “Oh, you! Always the comedian.” She slipped her arm through Sam’s, giving him a small pinch as she did. “Now, I’m late to the Whoopee Club, and I need you to escort me, won’t you? So long, Mabesie, darling! Let’s do this again soon!” Evie nodded at Jericho. “Lovely to see you again, Jericho.”
As she and Sam walked away, Evie chanced a look over her shoulder and saw Jericho watching her, wounded and stoic. It had to be done, even if it felt awful.
Once outside the Bennington, Evie slipped free of Sam’s arm. “On second thought, it’s too chilly for a walk, and it looks like rain. I’d better grab a taxi here.”
Sam smirked. “What? And interrupt our cozy, heartfelt reunion?”
“Yes, I’m all broken up about it, too. But I’m sure I’ll recover.” Evie signaled to the doorman.
“You remember the day we met in Penn Station?”
“When you stole my twenty dollars? How could I forget?”
“You told me then that you weren’t an actress.” Sam tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “I think you pulled my leg on that one.”