“Jaunting to the future to verify that a projected achievement is every bit as vital as the organization has predicted.”
“That sounds pretty cool.” The science geek in me was actively enthralled with the prospect of skipping ahead, checking how theory lined up with reality. Once the initial buzz dwindled, a shadowy organization that could pop into the future and evaluate people as if they were stocks whose value might rise or fall according to capricious shifts—I couldn’t help but see that as sinister. My enthusiasm dimmed.
Caught up in his explanation, Kian didn’t seem to notice. “In fact, there’s a department in acquisitions that retrieves tech we use to grant favors like the one you asked for. In the next three hundred years, there will be remarkable innovations in cosmetic procedures—to the point that the average person can give himself a new nose.”
“Figures. Did they solve the pollution problem yet?” I shook my head, adding, “Never mind. I’m aware that’s a digression.”
He flashed me a half smile. “The upside is that I get to spend more time with you. As long as Wedderburn thinks I’m pushing you toward another favor, he won’t look too hard at how much we hang out.”
“And you can claim you’re working on me.”
“Exactly.”
“What happens if he figures out that you’re faking it?”
Kian hesitated. “Don’t worry about that.”
“Bullshit.”
“It won’t be good,” he said quietly. “But I can handle it.”
By this point, the gel on the windowpane was smoking slightly. I took that to mean that private time was almost finished. “So are you just giving me a ride home?”
“I thought I’d take you to dinner unless you have other plans.”
Whoever Wedderburn was, he might be listening in. So I made my response simple. “Can we swing by my apartment first?”
SHADOW DANCE
My parents weren’t back from university yet, so I left Kian waiting in the front room while I scrambled out of my uniform and into jeans and a T-shirt. I pulled my hair down, conscious that I was trying to downplay my appearance. I hated the thought that he might look at me and see his own creation, not me. If he was on the level, he was taking a big risk, pretending to chase me with ulterior motives, while giving me top-secret info. It chewed at me, not knowing what exactly might happen if they caught him. But he might also be double-crossing me, doing exactly what I’d suggested in the car. There was no way for me to be sure.
Still, technically, this was my first date. It was cliché, but I was excited, even if he might be doing this to please his boss.
I sent a text to my parents, who would probably be astonished that I had plans involving other human beings, and then went out to join Kian. “Ready.”
“Let’s go.” He led the way to the car and we drove for a while in silence.
“You realize the Mustang makes you the total package. Girls will drive me nuts tomorrow asking about you.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Only in the sense that I don’t know anything.”
Kian tilted his head, and it took all my self-control not to brush back the hair that tumbled into his face. “That means I can be anything you want.”
“Sounds dangerous. How will I remember what lies I’ve told?”
“Write it down? Or would you rather know the truth?” He pulled into a small parking lot, nestled behind an Italian restaurant with red-and-white-checkered tablecloths visible through windows draped with twinkle lights. Inside they seemed to be trying to evoke a sense of Tuscany with the textured walls and dark wood. The hostess escorted us to a booth and left us with menus; I couldn’t help but notice the way she studied Kian as if he were a chocolate éclair.
I held my answer until the hostess moved out of earshot. “If you’re allowed to tell me, I’d like to know the truth.”
The appreciative glint in his eyes said he knew I was playing to a potential audience. “You’re a special case, Edie. I’ve been granted clearance to be straight with you.”
I grinned. Despite the risks, this was kind of fun, knowing how much subtext simmered between the lines. “Then tell me about the real you.”
“I’m twenty,” he said quietly. “I was fifteen when I had my … moment.”
Extremis. When Raoul made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. He’d already told me this, but if Wedderburn hadn’t been listening in, it was best to pretend that conversation never happened. Kian couldn’t afford for his boss to doubt him. Or maybe he just wants you to believe he’s loyal to you. But why would he support a girl he just met over the powerful figure who can do unspeakable things to punish him? I had no ready answer.
“Do you want to tell me?” It seemed really intimate, but I still wanted to know.
His voice was soft, barely audible below the music tinkling from the speakers. “It feels like a long time ago. I can talk about it. But let’s order first.”
I hadn’t even opened the menu. “I trust you.”
The waitress came over in response to Kian’s signal. “We’ll start with the bruschetta and then we’ll share a Caesar salad and chicken parmigiana. Just bring two plates. We’ll divide the food at the table. Thanks.”
Once she left, I sat frozen, staring at him. I mean, he’d informed me that he knew everything about me, but it didn’t feel real until he ordered all of my favorite things in the same meal. “You weren’t kidding about being an Edie expert.”
“Work occasionally gives me an edge. You’ll be even more wowed when I take you to the Science Museum for a planetarium show.”
“Is that in the works?”
His gaze met mine. “It could be. If you want.”
“Maybe. So you were about to tell me…?”
His smile faded. “Right. My family had money, up until I was twelve. At that point it came out that my father’s empire had been built on a Ponzi scheme.”
I dug around my memory, trying to recall where I’d heard the term. Oh yeah, on the news, when the anchorman was talking about fraud and how a fake investment business stayed afloat when the “broker” took money he got later and paid it out to early investors, constantly moving money around. From what I recalled, that could go on for years, but eventually all the stockholders would demand their own payments. I suspected that was when things fell apart for Kian’s dad.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Rather than go to jail, he killed himself and left my mother to clean up the mess.” He responded in a monotone, like he was talking about something he read, not his own life.
I hesitated, not knowing what to say. “Was it just you and her?”
“No, I had a sister.”
“Had?” I asked with growing dread.
Kian closed his eyes briefly and flattened his hand on the table. Impulsively I reached over and covered his fingers with mine, because whatever was coming, it had to be awful. “She came into my dad’s study … he had the gun—”
“Tell me he didn’t kill her.”
“Not on purpose.”
That painted a picture in my mind. I imagined her rushing over, trying to stop him, them struggling for the weapon. It goes off, he’s shocked and horrified. Then he turns the gun on himself. Bang, bang. Half a family’s dead in just a few seconds. Jesus. I had no idea what to say. I’m sorry seemed so inadequate.
He went on, “So then it was just my mom and me, and … she leaned, so hard. I wasn’t even thirteen. I tried to step up … to help. But it wasn’t enough and pretty soon, she was hooked on pills. In time my uncle put her in rehab and I went to stay with him and my aunt.”
“You said something about his fishing cabin?”