A Book of Spirits and Thieves - Morgan Rhodes Page 0,69
slipped down her cheek.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Farrell said. “It’s only a camera. And, no offense, but it looks like it belongs in a museum. How old is this thing?”
“It’s old,” she managed, her breathing coming out in shaky gasps. “But it . . . has . . . sentimental value.”
She’d tried to be strong all week, to not cry, and now she was having a full-blown emotional breakdown in front of Farrell Grayson.
“Then I’m very sorry,” he said.
She shook her head, pulling her glasses away so she could wipe her eyes. “Damn it. I don’t cry.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“I don’t normally cry.” She let out a shuddery sigh. “Look—thanks for stopping him. I appreciate it.”
“I only slowed him down. With my jaw.” He rubbed his chin. “Besides, I think you could have taken him down just fine without me. You’re tougher than you look.”
“Thanks, I think.” She took the broken pieces of the camera from him and put them into her bag, not ready to throw them away quite yet.
He cocked his head. “I know you, right?”
She sniffed. “Funny. This time the line actually works.”
“What?”
“The university. We briefly crossed paths yesterday.”
Recognition dawned in his hazel eyes. “Right. You’re the girl who didn’t have time to talk.” He reached into the pocket of his black leather jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out without even glancing down, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. He placed it to his lips, and brought a silver lighter up in his right hand. Then his gaze snapped to hers. “I know we’re outside, but I feel I should ask anyway. Do you mind if I smoke in front of you?”
“Normally I would, but since you’re the only pedestrian who tried to help me out when I got mugged, I’ll allow you to go ahead and damage your lungs in my presence.”
“Don’t worry. My lungs’ll be just fine.” He grinned that charmingly crooked smile of his and sparked the lighter, touching the orange flame to the tip of the cigarette.
Out of the three million people in this city, she’d happened to run into this same guy twice in as many days. That was a crazy coincidence.
“Do you live around here?” she asked.
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. Not many fancy mansions in this neighbor-hood.”
His grin widened. “Lucky guess? Or do you magically happen to know who I am?”
Interesting word choice, she thought. If only he knew about the education she’d just received from Dr. Vega. “I’ll admit that I saw your photo spread in FocusToronto last year. And, I mean, your face is already well known in the city.”
“My mug shot did get some press a while back.” He eyed her curiously as he took a deep inhale of the cancer stick and blew out the smoke, though happily he did so in the direction opposite her face. “Aren’t you going to ask why I happened to be here, tonight, ready to jump in and get my face pounded by some random thug?”
“Okay.” She eyed his jaw, which was slightly swollen now and red, and grimaced with sympathy. “Why?”
“Because I really need a drink. And one of my favorite bars in the whole wide world is right around the corner from here.” He paused. “I think you need a drink, too, after busting out that little ninja move. That was impressive, by the way. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
She shrugged. “My aunt taught me a few moves.”
“Lethal weapon, table for two.” He nodded farther up the sidewalk. “What do you say?”
Her heart was still pounding from the fight with the thief, so it took her a moment to process what he was suggesting. “I’m only seventeen. I can’t drink.”
“I’m nineteen. The law says I’m legally allowed to order and consume alcohol. And even if it didn’t, money speaks volumes. They’ll serve you, promise.”
She didn’t have time for drinks with boys, even cute, rich ones who’d just saved her from a big-time jam. “I don’t know . . .”
“If it helps your decision, you should know I’m not hitting on you. This is a ‘we survived a violent crime together so let’s have a celebratory drink’ drink. That’s all.”
She eyed him skeptically. It’s not like she’d leap to assume that someone like Farrell Grayson would be interested in her that way, but he was being suspiciously friendly. “I didn’t think you were.”
“Actually, I could really use a friend right now, if you’re willing. ‘Safe and platonic’ is my middle