kill me, but you never know. Squirrels are super cute, but they can carry the plague.
I call out, “Yes?”
“A delivery for Miss Everdeen.” He holds up the bag, smiling wider.
“Will you please take it out and show me what it is?”
His smile falters, but he obliges. From the bag he pulls out something wrapped in purple tissue paper. It’s oddly shaped, with a point one end.
“Um…can you unwrap it, please?”
Ernesto looks as if he’s beginning to regret not leaving the package at the door and running away when he had the chance. He tears off the tissue paper from the pointy end of the object, exposing what looks like a horn.
A golden horn, covered in sparkly glitter.
I yank open the door, grab the object from the startled concierge, and rip off the remaining tissue paper.
Staring in astonishment at the stuffed animal in my hands, I breathe, “Son of a bitch.”
“The gentleman who left the package also included a note.” He jiggles the brown bag.
I take the bag from him and go back inside the room, too dazed to feel bad that I didn’t give him a tip.
When I pick up the phone again, Max demands, “So? Who was it?”
“Not who. What.”
“I don’t get it.”
Inside joke. “It was the concierge. He had a package for me.”
“Like a welcome basket?”
“No. Like a gift someone left for me at his desk.”
“A gift? That hotel is your safe spot! Who’d you tell you were there?”
“No one. I wasn’t followed here, either. I’m sure of it.”
“What’s the gift?”
I stare in disbelief at the stuffed animal in my hands. At its golden glitter horn and its flowing rainbow mane and tail. At its four hooves encrusted with tiny rhinestone crystals.
“I want you to trust me.”
“And I want a unicorn pony. So here we are.”
Recalling my conversation with Killian, I start softly laughing. “It’s a unicorn pony.”
After a beat, Max says, “Is that code for dildo or something?”
I prop the receiver between my ear and shoulder and marvel at the unicorn, turning it over in my hands. “No, gutter brain. It’s a stuffed animal.”
“Who the hell is sending you stuffed animals? More importantly, why?”
“Wait, there’s a note.”
I pull a square white envelope from the brown bag, open it, and remove the card inside. I read aloud, “Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene.”
There’s no signature, nothing else but the quote, but there doesn’t have to be. A small, impressed voice deep inside me whispers Wow, he’s something, this guy but I quickly squash it.
After a moment of silence, Max says, “That’s Shakespeare.”
“Yep. It’s the first line of Romeo and Juliet.”
She shouts, “Is that fucking unicorn pony from the Big Bad Wolf?”
“It is.”
Her gasp is low and thrilled. “And he’s sending you quotes from the most romantic love story ever written? Oh god. My heart.”
“Don’t sound so swoony, idiot! Romeo and Juliet isn’t a romance, it’s a tragedy! Six people die over the course of four days because of two stupid teenagers!”
Max isn’t moved by my logic. “But you get the symbolism of that particular quote, right?”
I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “If I didn’t, I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”
“You’re Juliet—well, obviously—and he’s Romeo. Two star-crossed lovers from feuding families, brought together by fate—”
I interrupt crossly, “Destined to die through a series of ridiculous miscommunications and bad timing.”
“—bound by true love—”
“Puh-lease. Insta love is not true love. Romeo was pining over some other chick the night he first saw Juliet and decided she was his soul mate. Talk about fickle.”
“—and ultimately ending the age-old vendetta between their families—”
“Because they died. They died! How are you not getting this?”
“This is a sign, Jules,” she counters, sounding adamant. “Forget about the death part. He’s sending you an olive branch.”
“More like a warning.”
“He’s saying he knows who you are. He knows who he is. He knows what the stakes are. And he still wants you!”
“You have really gone off the deep end, my friend.”
“When did you become so anti-love, anyway?”
After a moment, I say quietly, “When my mother was killed by the car bomb meant for the mobster she married.”
Max’s sigh is heavy. “Oh fuck. I’m sorry. Me and my big mouth.”
“Don’t worry about it. Ancient history.” I throw the stuffed unicorn across the room. It bounces off the carpet, tumbling to a stop to gaze at me with hurt blue eyes.
“So…what are we going to do about this? He knows you’re at that hotel. He might know Fin and my