and the same older man who approached me outside the museum last night walks toward us.
Alarm bells sound off in my head again, and for some reason, I doubt that this man is a friend of Gigi’s like Mr. Gabriel. Did he follow me here? Has he been waiting for me since last night?
“Milo…” I stop walking.
He follows my line of sight and stops too, shifting to stand in front of me.
The man continues to approach, smiling widely. He stops when he’s a few feet away.
“Can I help you?” Milo asks.
“Yes, good afternoon,” the man says. “I was hoping you might be able to help me with something.” He lowers his voice a little. “Does Ms. Evelyn Conaway live here?”
I gasp. So much for thinking he was a harmless and kind old man! He’s a stalker!
“Why?” Milo asks, his voice serious. “Who are you?”
“Forgive my manners. My name is George. I’m an employee of Mr. James Jenkins,” he says. “I was instructed—”
“Wait, James Jenkins is your boss?” I interrupt.
“Yes.” He looks at me and blinks. “You’re the young lady from last night. Lovely to see you again.”
Milo’s head jerks back in surprise. He glances at me and raises an eyebrow.
George continues, “I was instructed by Mr. Jenkins to give this invitation to Ms. Conaway the moment she surfaced from her home, but I haven’t had any luck so far today.”
He pulls a small white envelope out of his pocket. Slowly, Milo takes it from him.
I stand on tiptoe and peek over Milo’s shoulder as he opens the envelope. Inside, there’s an invitation to the premiere party for Aliens Attack Earth 4, including a personal note from James.
Peg,
I know your feelings haven’t changed since the last time we spoke, but given the recent circumstances, I hope there is a chance you will reconsider. Please come tonight. I would love to see you.
J
Um, excuse me?!
“What recent circumstances?” I ask, swiping the note out of Milo’s hand. I look at George. “What is James talking about?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” George says. “I’m just a driver and occasional errand runner. I don’t involve myself in Mr. Jenkins’s personal affairs.”
My head is spinning. Her feelings haven’t changed since the last time they spoke? Her feelings about what, exactly? This has to be in reference to that phone call they had.
“Sounds like it will be a great party,” I say to George. “I’ll make sure she gets this.”
Milo says, “Um.” I give him a pointed look, and he gives one right back.
“Great!” George says. “Mr. Jenkins will be thrilled.” He nods goodbye and smoothly walks back to his car.
“You’re not thinking of going, are you?” Milo asks, although his tone says he knows that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“James obviously knows something,” I say. I guess it’s time for the not-exactly-family reunion I’ve been avoiding.
“I thought you weren’t making any public appearances before Sunday.”
“I’m not. That’s why I have my wig.” I look over the invitation again. “It’s at The Copacabana on Forty-Eighth Street.”
Milo frowns. “I don’t think your grandma would want you to go to his party.”
“Of course she wouldn’t. But I also didn’t want her to up and leave without telling me if she’d be back before what is quite possibly the biggest night of both of our lives, so I guess we’ll have to call this even. And she never has to find out that I was there if you don’t tell her.”
He narrows his eyes, and I narrow mine too. We’re in a standoff on Gigi’s front stoop.
He breaks the silence first. “You shouldn’t go by yourself. I’ll go with you.”
He braces himself, like he’s ready for me to argue. I take in his long and lanky limbs, and when I look up at his face, I fixate on his nose ring and full lips. But only for a moment.
“Just in case anything happens,” he adds quickly, “I want to go with you as a friend. Or I guess I should say acquaintance, since you’re allergic to friendships.”
“Ha,” I deadpan. “At least you won’t need a suit for this.”
His apprehensive expression changes to a smirk. “Good.”
Chapter Thirteen
Back during my brief time in the spotlight, I had a stylist and we created an Evie Jones aesthetic: bright and flirty, yet classic. There is nothing bright or flirty about the black silk sleeveless dress and white patent leather platform boots I took from Gigi’s closet. But that’s the whole point. I don’t need to call attention to myself tonight. The plan is