Authors: Robin Benway
“Have faith,” I told her, then started to get up off the couch. “I gotta go meet—run those errands.”
“But you didn’t even finish your bagel.”
I felt terrible, but I couldn’t keep Angelo waiting, either. “Yeah, my parents are really pissed that I came home so late last night.” Roux’s face fell even further. “No, I mean, they’re not mad at you or anything.”
“No, it’s just cool, you know, that they’re worried.” Roux drew a small pattern with her toe on the coffee-dripped floor. “It’s cool, I get it.”
“I’ll call you immediately after I talk to Jesse,” I said. “Go shower and do homework or something.”
She rolled her eyes but followed me to the front door. “I’m staying in bed all day and eating french fries,” she told me. “I have to build up some strength so I can Cyrano you through this Jesse fling.”
“
Thing
,” I corrected her. “It’s a thing, not a fling.”
“Whatever. Go errand run.” She waved me away. “And tell Harold that I’m going to make his life miserable if he doesn’t smile at you every time you come over.”
I had no plans to tell Harold anything, but I just said, “Okay,” and let myself out the front door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Roux yelled behind me and even after the door shut, I could hear her giggling.
The car glided up to the front of the museum on Seventieth Street, and I climbed out before the driver could open the back door. No point in both of us getting soaked. There was hardly anyone in the front hallway, save for a tall, gray-haired man with his hands clasped behind his back, casually standing next to the admissions table like he had done it every day for his entire life.
Which, knowing Angelo, he probably had.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I said when I was close to him.
He glanced down at me and smiled. “You look like a drowned rat.”
“Drowned rats have broken umbrellas,” I replied. “I read it in a fortune cookie once.”
“Ah, of course.” He took out his wallet, even though the sign said it was “pay what you can” Sunday, and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. “Will this cover the young lady and myself?” he asked the girl behind the admissions desk.
“Y-yes,” she stammered. “Um, yes, of course.”
“Lovely. It’s always nice to support the arts.” Angelo took our tickets and then led me through the front of the museum into the courtyard, where a large marble fountain gurgled and bubbled. It was a little humid in the room, and dozens of white orchids grew up from the ground. “Hothouse much?” I asked as I sank down on one of the marble benches.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Angelo asked. “The renovations were well worth it. It’s so important to stay up to date and modern.”
“So says the man with the Olivetti typewriter,” I teased him, grinning when he smiled down at me. “Here,” I added, and passed him the flash drive. “I found this in a safe at the Oliver house. I’m not sure what’s on it, but it was pretty well hidden.”
“Stay modern, but remember the classics,” he amended. I’ll remind you that I also have a laptop. And well done, you. The Collective and I will have a look as soon as possible.” Then he paused before saying, “So I hear there’s a bit of discord between you and your parents.”
I sighed and looked toward Angel, the bronze Angel statue on one side of the courtyard. It was pointing directly at me, almost accusing.
You kissed a boy!
it would probably say if it could talk.
You’re supposed to be working. For shame!
“Here’s the thing about my parents,” I said. “They want me to do this job, right?
They
want me to do a great job.
I
want to do a great job. The entire free
world
wants
me to do a great job. But when I actually
do
my job, they freak out. I can’t win.”
Angelo nodded a little and adjusted his cufflinks, both engraved with calligraphied
A
s. “The thing is, my love, you are their daughter first and a spy second.”
“It usually feels like the opposite, though. Like, last night was the first time that I ever hung out with kids my own age. And it was fun. It was awesome. There was a Halloween party, but I was still doing my job and it was like—”
“Living in California three years ago ruined your grammar,” Angelo interrupted with a sigh.
“—so cool,” I continued. “But Angelo, that shouldn’t have been the first party I’ve ever gone to. There should have been a lot more. My parents can’t decide now that they want me to be normal when they’ve spent my entire life making sure I’m anything but.”
“Yes, I agree.” Angelo nodded. “You raise an excellent point.”
“Really?”
“Certainly.” He watched as two tourists made their way through the garden, pointing at the fountain along the way. “Do you see them?”
“Do you know them? Are they assassins?”
“No, they are most likely not assassins. I have never met them before. But they seem to be perfectly lovely and normal people, yes?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Some people, they have ordinary lives. They go to
school, get married, raise children, whatever they wish. Nothing very exciting will happen, just the beautiful mundanity of life. But you, Maggie, you can have an extraordinary life because you have an extraordinary gift.” He looked down at me, his icy blue eyes still as warm as they have always been. “You have a talent that many people would love to possess. Would you give it all up to have a normal life?”
“Sometimes, maybe,” I murmured. “I don’t know. I just wish my parents would trust me to do my job.”
Angelo took a deep breath and looked up at the skylight. “Do you remember,” he said slowly, “when you came to my house dressed up for Halloween?”
“Of course,” I said. “You gave me a candy bar and a diary. Angelo, that was over ten years ago. Why—?”
“And what were you dressed as?”
“A ghost. I wanted to take off my costume, but they said I had to keep it on until we got to your apartment.”
“Yes. Because that was the night you were almost kidnapped.”
I stared at Angelo, my mouth open. “What are you
talking
about?”
“Word had gotten out about how talented you were with locks, that you were a prodigy. A new member of the Collective was so excited by this that he couldn’t keep it to himself, and, well, I suppose he thought that he could use your gifts for his own nefarious purposes.”
“And by ‘nefarious’ you mean …?”
Angelo shrugged. “In this business, there is always
danger. And there is always money to be made. He could have trained you himself, had you open bank vaults for the wrong people, crack safes that were never meant to be opened.” His voice trailed off, and I knew Angelo was thinking about even worse fates for me.
“Do you know who it was?” I asked.
“He was a new recruit,” Angelo explained. His eyes were fixed on the Angel statue, not even looking at me. “Oscar Young. He had only been with us a few months before the kidnapping attempt. His plan was to grab you on the east side of Gramercy Park.”
“Well, what happened to him?” I peeked over my shoulder, suddenly very aware of my surroundings, but Angelo just patted my hand.
“Not to worry, my love, he died. His body washed up in South America a few months later.” But Angelo’s mouth was tight, and the crease between his eyes was deeper than ever.
I swallowed hard. “Um, Angelo? Did you—?”
“Oh, no, no, darling. I didn’t kill him. I would have, but somebody beat me to it.” He glanced down at me and gave me a small smile. “Unfortunately.”
“So then what? Did my parents get a ton of extra security? Did you put a microchip in me?” I felt the back of my neck. “You microchipped me, didn’t you.”
Angelo’s smile widened. “Of course not. And yes, security increased for all of us for a few months. Colton was … poor Colton, he was beside himself. He was the one who had brought Oscar Young into the Collective, had sworn
that Oscar was one of the best in the business. Colton was absolutely gutted when he found out about the kidnapping attempt.”
I tried to imagine Colton Hooper being anything except smooth and unruffled. I couldn’t do it.
“He apologized and swore to your parents that he would always look out for your personal safety. He effectively assigned himself to your family. I still remember his words exactly. He said, ‘I suppose Oscar Young was no knight in shining armor.’” Angelo shook his head. “An understatement if ever I heard one.”
My head felt too small to hold all this new information. “So Oscar Young is dead?” I asked.
Angelo’s face became gentle. “Oh, love, I’ve scared you, haven’t I.”
“No, I’m not scared,” I told him, and I wasn’t. “I’m angry, though. I want to dropkick Oscar Young off a tall building and then give Colton a hug.”
Angelo laughed. “Well, your first wish is nearly as impossible as your second,” he told me. “How does your generation say? Colton Hooper does not do hugs.”
“So you’ve met him?”
“A few times, yes. Right after the kidnapping attempt. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look of devastation on his face.”
Something in me burned bright when Angelo said that. I had an entire network of people supporting me, protecting me, looking out for me. Including, I realized with a guilty jolt, my parents.
“I bet my parents freaked out.”
“Yes, they did. In fact, you were the only one who remained unruffled. You were just excited to dress up as a ghost.” Angelo looked down at me. “I suspect that this incident is the reason your parents were a bit upset when you didn’t come home last night. Especially since this happened in New York.”
“Yeah, you think?” I said. “If they had just told me, though! I mean, it was ten years ago. I can handle that news.”
“I can also tell you that your parents were not thrilled about accepting the assignment here,” Angelo continued. “They didn’t want to put you in such a central role.” He paused before adding, “I think they have been surprised to discover that you’ve grown up before their eyes.”
I thought about the night before, about the party and dragging Roux to her bedroom and kissing Jesse on the cold stoop, about all the ways I had grown up that my parents hadn’t even begun to realize. “Well, I did,” I said. “I grew up. That’s usually what happens to kids.”
“So they say.” Angelo grinned down at me. “I’m telling you this not to frighten you, of course. I just think you should know the truth about how valuable your talents are, as well as how strongly we all want to protect you.”
“But they can’t protect me from everything. Even if I were just an average kid, they couldn’t.”
“No, they cannot, that’s true. Nor can I. You have to have the good judgment to protect yourself.”
I wondered if this was starting to steer toward the
safesex speech, so I quickly steered it far, far away. “Maybe I could just dress up as a ghost again.”
Angelo smiled and patted my knee. “A subtle response, to be sure.”
“Well, I learn from the best.” I grinned back.
“Touché.” Angelo straightened his cufflinks again. “So what else does the day hold for you? Studies, I assume?”
“Ha, yeah, no. I just saw my friend Roux and she’s sort of exhausting. I think I need a nap.”
“Ah yes, little Miss
Je Ne Sais Quoi
. And what about Jesse Oliver? Are you enjoying his friendship, too?”
I blushed. I couldn’t help it. “Yes,” I said. “I enjoy his friendship.” That seemed to be the safest non-lie answer. “But don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”
Angelo arched an eyebrow at me and didn’t say a word.
“I do!” I protested. “I’ve got this one in the bag. Trust me.”
“I have always trusted you,” Angelo said. “Never forget that.” He glanced up at the tourists who were walking back through the garden. “There are many untrustworthy people,” he replied, and in his voice I heard a brief second of worry that had never been there before, “but you, darling, are not one of them.”
I thought about kissing Jesse the night before and didn’t say anything.
“Now, you seem to be in need of an umbrella before you go. Take mine.”
“But what about you?” I asked as he pressed it into my hand. It was heavy, made of oak and canvas, the base
inscribed with the same
A
that was on Angelo’s cufflinks and business cards. It wasn’t the kind of umbrella that you could buy for five dollars from a vendor at the subway entrance, that was for sure.
“A little rain shower is good for an old man like me,” he said as we walked toward the exit. “It keeps me young.” The car was waiting at the curb, just as I had left it, and Angelo hustled me into the backseat. “Talk to your parents,” he said before shutting the door. “They’re looking out for your best interests, just as I am.”
“Okay, I will,” I promised. “Get home safe! Stay dry!”
But he had already shut the door and was strolling up Seventieth Street. I looked out the back window as the driver pulled out into traffic, but Angelo had already turned the corner and melted into the soaked crowd, like the rain had washed him away.
Back in the car, I dialed Jesse’s number.
“Hi,” he said, picking up before the second ring. “I’m glad you called me back.”
“Of course I did. You have my coat.”
There was a pause. “Oh,” he finally said. “Oh, I thought …”
“I’m kidding!” I said. “Oh my God, I’m kidding! I mean, I’m not kidding about the fact that you have my coat, that part was true. But I would have called you anyway.”
“Well, do you want to come over and pick it up?”
I thought fast. Armand was probably in the house and I couldn’t risk running into him. “Why don’t we meet somewhere?” I said. “Have you had coffee yet?”
He just laughed. “Why don’t we meet at Grey Dog on Mulberry? Does that work? They have good coffee. You like coffee?”
“I like it like breathing.”
“Good answer. Thirty minutes?”
I glanced outside at the rain. “Sure, that’s fine. Don’t forget your umbrella.”
“Okay, thanks, Mom.”
“It’s raining! I’m trying to help you out!” But we were both giggling. “Fine, get wet. See if I care.”