THIRTEEN

Bon Voyage

“Do you have your passport?”

“Yes.”

“A photocopy of your passport? And your credit cards?”

“Yes, and yes.”

“What about antibiotics? Take them with you, just in case you catch a UTI from having crazy euro-sex with a dude named Jacques who has a monster baguette-dick.”

“Eden, chill.”

Asha grabs my shoulders to stop me from repacking her suitcase. Staying still isn’t fun for me right now. I need to keep busy.

“What’s going on? You’ve been on edge all week.”

“Nothing. I’m just nervous about my baby sister traveling thousands of miles in a flying tin can, that’s all.”

“You know I have more chance of being kicked to death by a donkey than dying in a plane crash, right?”

I look at her in horror. “Holy shit. What? Is there some sort of evil donkey cartel going around killing people? Where did this information come from? Do they have Mafioso donkeys in France?”

“Eden!” She laughs and squeezes my shoulders. “I’m going to be fine, both on the plane and around random donkeys. Stop panicking.”

I sit on the bed and drop my head into my hands. Honestly, I’m also on edge about Max. We haven’t spoken since Tuesday. It’s now Friday morning and still no contact. We supposedly have a date tonight, but I know nothing about it. Where, what time, how I’m supposed to dress. I mean, sure, I have that whole ‘pants and bra are optional’ directive, but that’s it.

I grab my phone and dial the movie information line again, just to make sure there’s no reason he can’t get through.

Nope. Everything’s working.

Then why hasn’t he called?

If I weren’t so badass, and he wasn’t completely off the grid, I’d be stalking every piece of his social media right about now to find out what the hell’s going on.

Asha clips shut the Ziploc bag containing her toiletries and gives me the side-eye. “You know, I can’t help noticing you haven’t seen Max this week. What’s up with that?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Uh huh. Because to someone who knows you, it seems as though you might actually miss him.”

I roll my eyes multiple times before checking the time. “Wow. Would you look at that? Your car will be here soon. Better get that case shut.”

She gives me a knowing look before pressing her last few items into the overflowing suitcase and gesturing for me to push it down, so she can zip it. “Have it your way, but I hope you realize that denial isn’t healthy. He likes you, and you like him. Story or not, you two have issues to sort out.”

Her phone buzzes with an alert at almost the same time mine does. She checks her screen. “Ten minutes.”

I check mine and get a vicious flutter in my belly when I see it’s a text from Max.

<You have mail.>

I tap into my email app so fast I almost drop the phone, and sure enough, there it is. A fresh, shiny email.

I click it open.

From: Maxwell Riley <[email protected]>

To: Eden Tate <[email protected]>

Subject: Behavioral Guidelines

Date: Friday May 12

Dear Miss Tate,

I apologize for not contacting you sooner. Something came up unexpectedly, and I’ve been indisposed for most of the week. I hope your back has recovered and that you’re feeling well.

Regarding tonight’s date, please read the following guidelines and let me know by reply email if you have any questions.

First, I’m confirming that this is an immersive date, in which you will step out of your own personality and into someone else’s. Your character description, along with mine, is detailed below. Read it carefully. Understand it. Live it. For this to be a success, you will genuinely have to try to be someone else for the night. I have faith that you can do it.

Character: Eden Crane, a top-notch New York journalist with a thirst for the truth. (Very much like yourself.)

Personality: Open-minded. Unguarded. Craves intimacy and intense connections. (Totally unlike yourself. These traits are your Everest, Miss Tate. Embrace them.)

Setting: Black-tie charity event

Background: You’ve been invited to the event by Maxwell Roberts, a wealthy philanthropist who also runs a successful escort business for high-profile clients. (Don’t think too much about the logic of this. It’s a fantasy, after all.) You met Maxwell earlier in the day when you were interviewing him for a feature story for the online news source, Pulse. (Sound familiar?) When you met, you both felt an instant attraction, and he’s invited you to the charity gala to get to know you better. You’ve accepted his invitation, because you need more information for your story, and also because, despite your best efforts to remain impassive, you feel a powerful and passionate attraction to him. (Use your imagination if you must.)

Please note: You may ask me real-world questions about my business in this scenario, and I will try to provide answers. I won’t consider this breaking the reality of the scenario. The people you encounter will give you real information. By the end of the night, you should have increased your research file substantially.

Existing guidelines regarding physical contact apply, as do the procedures for canceling the date should you become uncomfortable. I will continue my promise to not kiss you unless invited to do so.

I would advise you to call in sick to work today. I need you well rested and prepared for tonight, and you will need to be home in the afternoon for reasons that will become clear. So, Miss Tate, try to relax. Take off your pants and bra, if you wish. Watch a movie. Eat some ice cream. I look forward to seeing you later this evening. Or rather, I’ll enjoy spending time with your alter ego.

Have a wonderful day.

Warmest regards,

Max.

As I finish reading, I hear a shutter go off and turn to see Asha pointing her phone at me.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Capturing a moment.” She puts her phone away. “Walk me down?”

I take the suitcase as she grabs her computer bag and giant purse, and within a few minutes we’re waiting on the sidewalk.

“Edie?” When I turn to look at her, she smiles. “I hope you know I only want the best for you.”

I take her hands, already feeling a painful lump forming in my throat. “Of course I know that. I feel the same way about you.”

“Good, because I want to make sure you know how much I love you before I do this.” She slaps the top of my head.

“Ow! Ash!”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Opportunity is not a lengthy visitor. Fortune favors the brave. Big risks lead to big rewards.”

“Do you want to inform me why you suddenly turned into a talking fortune cookie?”

She sighs. “I know that preaching gets nowhere with you. Just know that if I were you, I wouldn’t let my stupid pride and self-preservation mess up something that could be amazing.”

I open my mouth to reply, but she holds up her hand. “No. Don’t tell me I’m wrong or make excuses. Just think about it.”

Her car pulls up to the curb, and we hug as the driver loads her gear into the trunk.

“I’m going to miss you, Edie.”

“Not as much as I’ll miss you.” I swallow and blink to push back the tears. Crying isn’t something I do. I learned a long time ago that it hurts less to keep it in than let it out. Also, Asha cries less if I’m strong, and I’d do pretty much anything to prevent Asha from crying.

“Take care of Nannabeth while I’m gone. See you in a couple of weeks.”

“I’ll be here.”

She climbs into the back seat of the slick SUV, and I stand at the curb and wave until she disappears into the rush-hour traffic.

When I get back upstairs, I slump into the sofa, already feeling her absence. It’s so quiet without her, I jump when my phone buzzes with a text. It’s from her, and there’s a picture attached.

I open it and find the photo she took when I was reading Max’s email.

<Just for the record, I’ve NEVER seen this expression on your face before. EVER. Look at yourself, Edie. You look HAPPY. Just thought you should know. I love you and miss you already.>

She’s right. I look so happy, I barely recognize myself. What the hell is happening to me?

I breathe through another urge to cry. God, I’m such a baby right now. I think I’ll take Max’s advice and call in sick to work.

At the mere thought of his name, I feel myself smile. I don’t think I’ve ever done that over a man before and take great pains to make my face stand down.

As much as Asha loves me and thinks she know what’s best for me, there’s a simple truth she didn’t articulate: those who don’t jump off cliffs are a hundred percent less likely to wind up road kill than those who do.