Much Ado About Magic

Page 50

“What’s that?”
“There’s someone standing right in front of it.” A sad sack of a man in ill-fitting clothes and a haircut that looked like he’d done it himself at home in the dark without a mirror stood at that corner of the observation deck, holding a wilting red rose and a teddy bear with a red bow around its neck. He shifted his weight anxiously back and forth, from one foot to the other, while he craned his neck to study every woman who walked past. “I think we’ve got a Sleepless in Seattle situation here,” I told Owen.
“A what?”
“It’s a movie, probably not something you’d have seen. The important part is that the romantic happy ending involves two people meeting at the top of the Empire State Building. It seems like a lot of people who’ve met online think this is a good place to meet in person for the first time.”
“It makes sense. It’s a very public place, and you have to go through a security screening to get up there.”
I tried not to sigh. He could be so hopeless when it came to this sort of thing. “I think the idea is that it’s romantic, and it makes for a good story when people ask how you met.”
“So, your situation is that one of these people is waiting for his cyber girlfriend to show up, right in front of the magical transmitter?” There was a strong note of skepticism in his voice.
“Yeah, sounds fishy to me, too.”
Gemma interrupted. “Did you find it?” she asked.
“Maybe. I want to check it out. You two go to the gift shop. I may need you in reserve.”
“Got it.” She grabbed Marcia by the arm and the two of them disappeared into the crowd.
I ambled over to stand at the railing near Sleepless. He gave me a sidelong glance, then asked, “Are you Becky?”
“Nope, sorry,” I said. My magic-detecting necklace hummed against my skin, but I couldn’t tell if that was from the transmitter or from him.
“We were supposed to meet up here,” he continued. His voice had a pathetic, whiny quality, but his eyes were flinty.
“That’s nice,” I replied, trying very hard to sound like I wasn’t at all interested in him or in anything he happened to be standing right in front of.
“She’s late,” he continued.
I shrugged. “The lines are pretty long.”
With an exaggerated sigh, he went back to leaning against the transmitter. I turned my back to him and walked away, saying to Owen, “I’m pretty sure that’s our guard. I have to give them credit for coming up with a plausible reason for someone to stand around here all day. What do I do now?”
“Get rid of him.”
“They’ve got barriers to keep people from being pushed over the edge.”
“That wasn’t what I meant. Think of something.”
I found Gemma loudly explaining the American custom of the snow globe to an eyerolling Marcia. “That’s definitely the thing,” I said softly to them, “but they’ve got someone guarding it.” I led them to where we could see Sleepless standing there with his drooping rose.
“That guy’s a guard?” Marcia asked, her tone dripping with disdain.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure, and he’s got a great cover, you have to admit.”
“What we need is a diversion,” Gemma said, frowning in thought.
“What I need is to get him away from there and keep him away long enough for me to get the job done. I’m worried that he already suspects me.”
“Why would he suspect you?”
“Because if he’s magical and any good he’d have sensed this gizmo I’m carrying around.”
Gemma said, “Looks like it’s time for the reserves to step up.” She straightened her back, tossed her hair and said, “Leave him to me.”
Marcia and I watched from behind a choir singing “God Bless America” as Gemma walked past Sleepless, glancing shyly in his direction and nervously biting her lower lip. Finally, with a deep, steadying breath, she approached him, gesturing to the scarf knotted around her neck as though it was something she expected him to recognize.
“Oh, good call,” Marcia said with an approving nod. “No sane man would say he’s waiting for someone else after she claims to be his date, especially when he really isn’t waiting for someone else, and when it looks like the closest he comes to being near someone like her is when he sleeps with the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue under his pillow.”
Gemma and Sleepless had the kind of conversation full of nervous laughter that tends to happen at first meetings, then she took his hand as though to lead him away, but he shook his head and held his ground. “He’s definitely the guard,” I said.