Take Me Home Tonight - Morgan Matson Page 0,99

and smoothing my hair back. “It suits you.” Margaux was a few inches shorter than Matty. She was willowy, with big, dark eyes and a scattering of freckles across her nose. She had perfect blunt bangs, the ones that I knew Kat had been going for but hadn’t ever quite achieved. And as usual, she was dressed like a search result for cool beautiful girl vintage had just achieved sentience and come to life. And it didn’t seem contrived on her either. You actually felt like she’d be dressing this way even if it wasn’t in fashion. And that the stuff she wore wasn’t from Anthropologie, but had been most likely found in some market in Chefchaouen, which I hadn’t even known was a place, let alone a stunningly beautiful one, until I’d seen her there on Instagram last month.

She was wearing a whisper-thin patterned dress, gold flats with a buckle, like a very stylish pilgrim, and had stacks of metal and woven bracelets going up both wrists.

“You might have mentioned you were sending us to the Met,” Matty said, arching an eyebrow at her.

Margaux frowned. “I thought I did.” She shook her head. “Sorry, today has been crazy. This shoot, then organizing invites for this little get-together I’m throwing tonight…”

“This is amazing,” I said, finally finding my voice. I gestured to it all—models, clothes, lights, priceless art. “Really truly.”

Margaux beamed at me. “You like it?” she asked, her big eyes fixed on mine. “Because it was all my concept, and I had to fight for it in, like, every meeting for the last three months.…”

“What’s the concept?” Matty asked.

“It’s my spin on From the Mixed-Up Files,” Margaux said, and something clicked into place, like a puzzle piece.

“Yes!” I said, without realizing I was going to. “Sorry—I’ve been wondering why this all seemed so familiar.”

“What’s Mixed-Up Files?” Matty asked, looking from me to Margaux.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll get you a copy. It’s a classic. This brother and sister run away to the Met.”

“They come in on the train from Connecticut,” I said slowly, remembering. I’d always loved that because so few books took place in my state, let alone in suburban commuter towns like ours. “They take the train in together and then have adventures in New York.”

“Yes!” Margaux grinned at me. “See, Stevie gets it.”

“Margaux?” Zephyr was suddenly back, his tone now a lot more polite. He gestured at the guards in blazers by the doors. “They say the dog is a problem.”

“Brad?” she asked, scooping him up from me in one movement, smoothing his fluff down, and kissing him on the head. “He’s part of the shoot. Didn’t I say? Tell them to take it up with Anna if there’s still an issue.” Zephyr nodded, then hurried away.

“He’s part of the shoot?” Matty raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Well, maybe he is now,” Margaux said, scratching under his chin. “I’m Bradley LePom,” she said in an old-timey accent, waving Brad’s arm around. “Stick with me, kid. I’m gonna make you a star!” I bit my lip, trying not to laugh, and Margaux shrugged. “It works better if you picture him with a tiny cigar.” She smiled at both of us, then tipped her head to the side. “Not that I’m not happy to see you both, but remind me why you’re here?”

“You said you had Mallory’s keys,” Matty prompted. “Stevie got locked out, with Brad.…”

Margaux snapped her fingers. “Right! Come with me.” She led us out of the gallery and into the area that normally was just the space with a gift shop and bathrooms, water fountains and benches, but had been taken over as a kind of staging area. There were racks and racks of clothes, a curtained-off changing area, hair and makeup stations, a table with drinks and food. It was very impressive, and I was a little bit stunned that Margaux had been the one to make all this happen—that this all stemmed from her idea.

She tucked Brad in the crook of one arm, then picked up a big, soft-looking leather bag with the other. She dug around in it, then emerged triumphantly with a set of keys, an M key chain attached to them. She handed them to Matty with a flourish.

“Oh, wow,” I said, letting out a long breath. Was this long, strange night finally coming to an end? She could give me the key, I could head back to Mallory’s, return the dog, finally get my stuff, and go home. Which

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