him out of the corner of my eye. Was he being sincere?
I shrugged. “It is what it is. I was a theater nerd, and you were one of those guys on the baseball team.”
“A dumb jock, right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you thought it.” I didn’t want to argue, but he pressed the point. “I was the dumb jock, and you were the misunderstood girl. Like Laura and the Gentleman Caller.”
Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows.
“What?” Liam folded his arms. “Jocks can’t like Tennessee Williams?”
I started to respond, but he cut me off.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s kind of refreshing to be underestimated for a change.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Everyone expects me to be perfect. My parents, my coach.” His eyes drifted toward the woods across the road. “And then when I fuck up, I have to deal with their disappointment. It’s kind of exhausting.”
I gave him a searching look. I didn’t know what I had expected when Liam Miller opened the door, but it wasn’t this.
He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry I was a dick to you in high school.” He clasped his hands together and looked away; his discomfort seemed genuine. I didn’t know how to react.
“Does this usually work?” I asked.
“Does what usually work?”
“Isolate the high school girl. Give her vodka.”
He smiled. “Usually the peanut butter closes the deal. I must be losing my touch.”
He expected me to laugh, but I didn’t.
“I’m not like that,” I said.
He looked right at me. “I know.”
My face suddenly went hot. For a long time, I said nothing; we just looked at each other. The pause stretched until it became an uncomfortable silence. Literal crickets chirped. I felt a strange certainty that he was either going to get up and walk away or else lean in and kiss me. The air between us was delicate. Electric. I wanted more punch. I wanted to leave.
I could only keep his gaze for a few more moments, and then I turned away. “Why did you come find me?”
“You were on my balcony.”
He was right, and I was making a total ass of myself.
“I’m kidding,” he said. “I did come to find you. I just . . . I don’t know. It’s been a long time. I wanted to talk to you.”
I felt that not-unpleasant warmth in my midsection again. “So talk.”
He seemed about to say something, but my ringtone cut him off. I checked my phone: it was the same unfamiliar Las Vegas number. I forgot my embarrassment at once; this could be the gig we needed.
“I have to take this.” I stood, walked up the steps to the Millers’ porch, and accepted the call.
“Hello?” I said, leaning against one of the Victorian columns.
On the other end, a woman’s voice said, “Is this the number for Elias Dante? The Uncanny Dante?”
“Yes, it is. How can I help you?”
“My name is Grace Wu. I’m calling on behalf of F—”
The phone beeped in my ear, cutting off the caller—and then a robot voice informed me I had less than a minute of prepaid time left.
“I lost you for a second,” I said, panic rising in my throat. We needed this gig, whatever it was. “Could you say that again?”
“My name is Grace Wu,” the woman repeated. “I’m calling on behalf of Flynn Bissette.”
The name hit me like a slap. Flynn Bissette? As in Flynn & Kellar, the most successful duo in the history of magic?
“Hello?” the woman said. There was something overenthusiastic, maybe even insincere about her voice.
“Did you say you’re calling on behalf of Flynn Bissette?”
“Yes!”
Irritation tightened my jaw. This was just one more in a long series of prank calls. They got our number off our Facebook page and thought they’d have fun taunting a has-been.
“It’s Grace, right?” I said, unable to keep the contempt out of my voice.
“That’s right. Grace Wu.”
“Okay, Grace. What can I do for literally one of the most famous magicians ever?”
“Grace” was undeterred by my sarcasm. “Mr. Bissette is shooting a live magic special at the Dolby Theatre in Hollywood. He’d like Mr. Dante to—”
“Fuck off.” I was surprised at the rage suddenly heating my face.
“Excuse me?” the woman said.
I was about to launch into a tirade, but the robot voice broke in once more and told me I was out of time.
CHAPTER 3
I POCKETED MY PHONE AND leaned against the column.
“What was that about?” Liam asked.
I looked away. “Can I use your bathroom?”
I sat on the toilet lid, one hand pressed against the