He was . . .
He looked . . .
How . . .?
“Abram.”
3
Magnetism
*Abram*
“Abram.” Leo stopped upon catching sight of me. Most of his face was in shadow, but what I could see looked relieved. “Good. Hey, so I guess I will need you to take the funicular down to the garage level after all.”
I nodded, my attention moving beyond him to the two women. The one on the left must’ve been Mona’s friend, Alan. My eyes sought the one on the right.
Huh.
She was shorter than I remembered. Memories are tricky that way, always trying to make the past bigger, more important, more interesting and relevant and meaningful. But memories were so seldom reflective of reality.
And yet, I had to concede that she was just as beautiful as I remembered, even though all the color had leached from her skin. Mona looked like she’d just seen a ghost. This filled me with a perverse kind of satisfaction, because she was staring right at me. I was the ghost.
Even wan, she was still extraordinary. Those honey colored eyes of hers were wide with surprise and her pretty pink heart-shaped lips were parted slightly. The delicate line of her jaw, the gentle point of her chin, the subtle indent just beneath her cheekbones, it all made me want to hold her face in my palms, push her hat off, thread my fingers into her dark hair, tilt her head back, and—
“My sister didn’t get the messages I left earlier. Thanks for your help. I know it’s freezing.” Leo lifted his voice over the howling wind. “I want to get the girls settled, make introductions, you know.”
“Not a problem.” I shoved my hands into my pockets, lest they get any ideas, and gave Leo another nod. But my attention remained fastened to the genius astrophysicist who continued to gape at me. I didn’t remember her looking at me that way during our week together, nor during any of her interviews, and I wondered if this was a new expression for Ms. Mona DaVinci.
Had she ever been unpleasantly surprised before? Had she ever come face-to-face with a mistake? Leo had once told me Mona never made mistakes. What did that make me?
The opposite of a mistake is intentional action.
I felt my lips curve into a bitter smile at the thought and blinked, moving my carefully bored glare from Mona to her friend. Leo had said the friend’s name was Alan, so I’d been expecting a man. Obviously, this Alan wasn’t a man. For some reason, the discovery relaxed the tension around my ribs somewhat. I wouldn’t think too much about that, if I could help it.
Alan was also staring at me, her lips also parted, but she wasn’t looking at me like I was a ghost. She was looking at me like she knew who I was, and she was a fan. Great.
Sighing, I dropped my attention to the pathway and moved toward the ski lift house, or whatever it was called. Despite Leo’s shoveling, the large slate path was quickly refilling with snow. The old guy down at the garage level would definitely need help. That’s what I would think about.