Six of Hearts
Page 43
“So, I guess you’re all wondering why you were invited here tonight.”
A man in the front row snickers disdainfully. “Yeah, you’d be right about that.”
“I suppose it’s accurate to say that I’m not your favourite person. You all lost your jobs because of me. My court case had your newspaper shut down, and I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, so I’ll make this quick. I investigated each and every person who worked for the newspaper, and the thirty-three of you are the only ones who came up clean. So, the question that I’m going to ask you all now is, did you play the lottery last week? I’m guessing you’re going to say no, or that you did but didn’t have much luck. Well, I actually beg to differ on that. All thirty-three of you played.”
A few surprised sounds come from the audience, but mostly everybody’s still sceptical. Video Jay pulls a small piece of paper from his pocket and holds it up to the camera.
“You see these numbers. Anybody recognise them?”
I let my eyes drift over the paper. It’s a lottery ticket, and the numbers selected are the exact numbers called in the previous video. The winning numbers! Gasps of disbelief fill the room. I stare at video Jay in awe, not understanding how this can be real. It’s not possible to predict the lottery. It just isn’t.
Almost every single person is confused. Video Jay’s smile reaches Cheshire cat territory as he goes and picks up the camera. He carries it over to his kitchen table, where there are dozens of envelopes spread out neatly across the surface, all containing addresses and stamps. Jay pans across the envelopes and continues talking from behind the camera.
“Anybody recognise these locations?” he asks.
One woman speaks up, rising from her seat. “That’s my address!”
“If you look real closely,” says video Jay, “you’ll see that each envelope is addressed to those of you in the audience. Inside each envelope is a check made out to the receiver. Last week’s lotto amounted to just over four million euros. Since you all played and won, each of you is now one hundred and twenty-five thousand euros richer. I hope this makes up for the stretch of bad luck you’ve all been having lately.” He puts the camera back down so that it’s on him again. “If you look to the bottom left-hand corner of this video, you’ll see that I filmed this yesterday, and I am now going to pay a visit to the post office. Tomorrow morning, check your post — you might just find a little surprise waiting for you.” He smiles into the camera, and then the video shuts off.
The audience bursts into animation, exclamations of disbelief filling the venue. By some strange feat, Jay has just won the lottery for all of them.
That’s some magic trick. Or was it a trick at all?
I want to ask him how he did it, but there’s no sign of him anywhere. Then, as if by magic, I sense somebody’s eyes on me. Turning around, I see Jay standing at the back of the venue. He smiles, gives me a nod to follow him, then turns and walks down the hall that leads outside, his back to me. I rise from my seat and hurry after him. Jay walks slowly to let me catch up, stepping out onto the cobbles of Temple Bar. The Saturday-night crowds are out in droves, filling the streets with their drunken shouts and excited laughter.
He turns to me, his eyes lit up with their trademark post–magic trick mischief. I beam up at him, shaking my head. He links his arm through mine.
“Good evening, Watson. Care to take a stroll?”
Silently, I nod, and we walk down the street until I stop and turn to face him again, placing my hands firmly against his chest. “Okay, I have to ask. Was that real? Did you really just magically win the lottery for all those people?”
He grins. “I’d like to hear your theory.”
“Hmm, I was thinking maybe you used the money from your settlement, but that was two million, not four.”
One eyebrow raised, he tells me, “I’m actually donating my settlement money to a charity for victims of domestic abuse.”
I gape at him. “You are?”
He swipes his thumb over my chin. “Yes. I’m certain some of your goodness must be rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, almost absently, as his eyes trace my features.
“Don’t give me that. You were always good. Too good. But please, tell me if what I saw on that video tonight was real.”
Jay looks at me for a long moment, eyes shining brown and green under the street lights. “Do you really want an answer?” he asks back. “Isn’t it more exciting not knowing, just letting the possibilities be endless? Like, maybe I’m a genius and figured out some mathematical formula of probabilities to predict the lottery. Maybe I bribed the ball guy to rig the system.” He pauses to laugh and pulls the same ticket he’d shown on the video out of his pocket. “Maybe I faked this ticket, and I’m just giving them my own money. Maybe I’m psychic. Maybe I had a real good time at the poker tables. The maybes could go on forever, Watson, but we both know that mystery is better than the truth. So why not live with the magic? Be a kid again and believe in the fantastical. Life is more fun with a little smoke and mirrors.”
He gives me a devilish wink.
I shake my head at him, unable to keep my smile from growing wide. I point a finger into his chest, beaming up at him. “You, Mr Fields, are insufferable.”
He laughs. “That’s a lie. You find me charming. I know when you’re lying, remember?”
“Have I ever mentioned how much I hate that?”
“You don’t have to,” his voice is full of affection. “I can tell when you hate it, too.”
Something pops into my head, and I wag my finger at him. “A-ha, but I lied to you once, and you never knew.”
“Oh, yeah,” he says indulgently. “And when was this?”
“The night I was attacked by the thug. It wasn’t random. Una was there.”
Slowly, his smile grows wider. “I knew you were lying then, too. Didn’t you notice my knuckles were f**ked up the next morning?”
“No, I didn’t. And what does that mean? You spent the night on the couch.”
“Not the whole night. I snuck out, found the f**k Una paid to threaten you, and made sure he wouldn’t be doing it again.”
I stare at him, awestruck. “How did you know?”
“I asked you a few innocent questions, watched your reactions, and figured the rest out for myself. It takes a lot of practice to be able to lie to me.” He pauses, voice going soft and sexy. “And I’m too obsessed with you not to know every single one of your tells.”
That answer both endlessly pleases and irritates the hell out of me at the same time.
“That’s…okay, that’s kind of cool.”
He chuckles tenderly as his arms go around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. I press my face into his shoulder, breathing him in. “And I love you,” I whisper.
He lifts my chin and takes my mouth in a slow, lingering kiss before coming up for air. “Yeah, ya do.”
Several people wolf whistle and shout encouragements at us as they pass by. He’s holding me so tight that I can feel his phone start to vibrate in his pocket, interrupting our little moment.
I giggle, breaking the kiss. “Is that a vibrating phone in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
He gives me a crooked smirk as he pulls out his phone to answer it. “A bit of both.”
He doesn’t let go of me through his conversation. I’m not sure who he’s talking to, but his end consists of a lot of yes and no answers, before ending with a, “Great, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon, then.”
I watch as he tucks the phone back in his pocket and pulls me closer, pressing his lips to my temples. “Who was that?” I ask.
His answering grin makes me shiver, in a good way. “That was my agent over in the States. You’re about to cough up on that agreement, darlin’.”
“Huh?”
“I just got booked for a string of shows. We’re going to Vegas, my dear.”
I stare at him, open-mouthed, remembering the time when he told me how he did one of his tricks, and in exchange I’d have to go to America with him the next time he had shows there. It seems I really am going to keep my promise to Dad and let Jay take me on an adventure.
I swallow hard, shivers breaking out all over my skin, and reply excitedly, “I guess we are. I can’t wait!”
Epilogue
Several months later. Las Vegas, Nevada.
I curse as I accidentally prick myself with the needle. The suit I’m designing for Jay to wear during his next performance is almost complete. Up until recently, I’ve only ever designed dresses, but since I’m now a permanent member of his style and wardrobe team, I’ve been inspired to create something truly original. Something that represents him completely.
If Mum is up there somewhere looking down on me, I think she’d be proud. I’ve taken the things she taught me and turned them into a career. It took me a couple of weeks to train a new secretary for Dad, but now I’ve finally left my solicitor’s office days behind me.
I get to give style advice and create my own designs for a living. For me, it doesn’t get much better than that.
This final part of the suit needed to be hand-stitched, a tiny red heart in the corner of the left lapel, and I was concentrating so hard that I managed to prick myself, drawing blood. I stick my finger in my mouth as I go in search of a Band-Aid. Finding one, I quickly wrap it around the cut and return to my sewing. I run my hand over the beautiful, midnight blue fabric, truly proud of the work I’ve done.
I can’t wait to surprise Jay with this. I’ve been sneakily taking his measurements the past few weeks, ensuring that the suit will fit perfectly, but he has no clue what I’ve been up to. As I go to thread the needle again, I suddenly become aware of something cold on my skin. Glancing down, I gasp, my hand going to my mouth in surprise.
Right there on my finger is the most beautiful diamond engagement ring I’ve ever seen, and it definitely wasn’t there a second ago. I stare at it for what feels like forever. Standing up again, I walk over to the mirror by my bed and stare at my hand through the glass. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Jay standing in the doorway, a smile on his mouth and love beaming from him.
This is the way of things when your boyfriend is an illusionist. He has a habit of appearing out of thin air, and deep down he’s just a big kid who thrives on mischievous pranks and coming up with elaborate ways to surprise people.
His childhood may have been stolen by adults, but he claims that childhood back with each new trick he creates. For months now I have been completely under his spell.
“What is this?” I ask, turning and thrusting my hand out to him; my heart is hammering and my brain is refusing to believe the very obvious meaning of the diamond currently residing on my ring finger.
“It’s yours,” the mercurial bastard replies, all matter of fact, while my heart is zinging with a thousand mushy, fuzzy, lovey-dovey emotions.
My eyes grow instantly watery with love and my cheeks flush pink with nervous excitement. “Jason, I’m not going to make you explain how you got this ring on my finger, but I must insist that you tell me why y-you’ve put it there,” I stammer, my voice jittery.
He strides towards me and takes both my shaky hands into his. He lifts them and places them on his chest, while looking down at the ring as he rubs his thumb over it.
“I want you to belong to me. I want to tell the world that you’re mine. That’s why I’ve put it there, Watson.”
I blink away a tear and keep my eyes closed, whispering, “You have to ask the question.”
His hot breath hits my cheeks as he leans in. He kisses away my tears, then nuzzles his nose into my temples. “Will you marry me, Matilda?” he asks softly.
I open my eyes then and look up into his, replying instantly, “Yes, oh my God, yes.”
He takes my face into his hands then, and kisses me until I’m tugging on his shirt and trying to figure out the quickest and most efficient way to rid him of his clothes. I don’t have to think for very long, because he pulls away, his eyes twinkling as he begins to undress himself with abandon. I watch, eating up every inch of skin that he reveals. Once he’s na**d, though, he doesn’t come to me. Instead he walks over to the where I’ve left the suit.
Turning back to meet my gaze tenderly, he asks, “For me?”
My heart squeezes. “Yeah, Jay, it’s for you.”
He grins when he sees the tiny outline of a heart I’ve stitched into the fabric, rubs his finger over it, but doesn’t breathe a word. His silence speaks volumes. Next he starts to try it on. A minute later he’s fully dressed and I come to stand in front of him and smooth out the collar.
“You look good, husband-to-be,” I smile up at him.
He smiles hotly and growls with satisfaction as he scoops me up into his arms before throwing me onto the bed. He crawls up my body, his eyes dark with lust, “I want to be your husband now. I don’t want to wait.”
I giggle. “How soon do you think we could get Dad and Jessie over here? You know they’d go crazy if we had a wedding without them.”
Jay tilts his head to the side, like he’s thinking about it. “Hmm, a couple of days maybe?”
“That’s frighteningly soon, Jay. Are you sure about this?”
He leans down and bites lightly on my neck. “Never been surer about anything in my life.”
His words make me melt. “Okay, then. I only have one rule.”
“And what’s that?” he asks, not really paying attention as his mouth works its way down my neck.
A man in the front row snickers disdainfully. “Yeah, you’d be right about that.”
“I suppose it’s accurate to say that I’m not your favourite person. You all lost your jobs because of me. My court case had your newspaper shut down, and I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, so I’ll make this quick. I investigated each and every person who worked for the newspaper, and the thirty-three of you are the only ones who came up clean. So, the question that I’m going to ask you all now is, did you play the lottery last week? I’m guessing you’re going to say no, or that you did but didn’t have much luck. Well, I actually beg to differ on that. All thirty-three of you played.”
A few surprised sounds come from the audience, but mostly everybody’s still sceptical. Video Jay pulls a small piece of paper from his pocket and holds it up to the camera.
“You see these numbers. Anybody recognise them?”
I let my eyes drift over the paper. It’s a lottery ticket, and the numbers selected are the exact numbers called in the previous video. The winning numbers! Gasps of disbelief fill the room. I stare at video Jay in awe, not understanding how this can be real. It’s not possible to predict the lottery. It just isn’t.
Almost every single person is confused. Video Jay’s smile reaches Cheshire cat territory as he goes and picks up the camera. He carries it over to his kitchen table, where there are dozens of envelopes spread out neatly across the surface, all containing addresses and stamps. Jay pans across the envelopes and continues talking from behind the camera.
“Anybody recognise these locations?” he asks.
One woman speaks up, rising from her seat. “That’s my address!”
“If you look real closely,” says video Jay, “you’ll see that each envelope is addressed to those of you in the audience. Inside each envelope is a check made out to the receiver. Last week’s lotto amounted to just over four million euros. Since you all played and won, each of you is now one hundred and twenty-five thousand euros richer. I hope this makes up for the stretch of bad luck you’ve all been having lately.” He puts the camera back down so that it’s on him again. “If you look to the bottom left-hand corner of this video, you’ll see that I filmed this yesterday, and I am now going to pay a visit to the post office. Tomorrow morning, check your post — you might just find a little surprise waiting for you.” He smiles into the camera, and then the video shuts off.
The audience bursts into animation, exclamations of disbelief filling the venue. By some strange feat, Jay has just won the lottery for all of them.
That’s some magic trick. Or was it a trick at all?
I want to ask him how he did it, but there’s no sign of him anywhere. Then, as if by magic, I sense somebody’s eyes on me. Turning around, I see Jay standing at the back of the venue. He smiles, gives me a nod to follow him, then turns and walks down the hall that leads outside, his back to me. I rise from my seat and hurry after him. Jay walks slowly to let me catch up, stepping out onto the cobbles of Temple Bar. The Saturday-night crowds are out in droves, filling the streets with their drunken shouts and excited laughter.
He turns to me, his eyes lit up with their trademark post–magic trick mischief. I beam up at him, shaking my head. He links his arm through mine.
“Good evening, Watson. Care to take a stroll?”
Silently, I nod, and we walk down the street until I stop and turn to face him again, placing my hands firmly against his chest. “Okay, I have to ask. Was that real? Did you really just magically win the lottery for all those people?”
He grins. “I’d like to hear your theory.”
“Hmm, I was thinking maybe you used the money from your settlement, but that was two million, not four.”
One eyebrow raised, he tells me, “I’m actually donating my settlement money to a charity for victims of domestic abuse.”
I gape at him. “You are?”
He swipes his thumb over my chin. “Yes. I’m certain some of your goodness must be rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, almost absently, as his eyes trace my features.
“Don’t give me that. You were always good. Too good. But please, tell me if what I saw on that video tonight was real.”
Jay looks at me for a long moment, eyes shining brown and green under the street lights. “Do you really want an answer?” he asks back. “Isn’t it more exciting not knowing, just letting the possibilities be endless? Like, maybe I’m a genius and figured out some mathematical formula of probabilities to predict the lottery. Maybe I bribed the ball guy to rig the system.” He pauses to laugh and pulls the same ticket he’d shown on the video out of his pocket. “Maybe I faked this ticket, and I’m just giving them my own money. Maybe I’m psychic. Maybe I had a real good time at the poker tables. The maybes could go on forever, Watson, but we both know that mystery is better than the truth. So why not live with the magic? Be a kid again and believe in the fantastical. Life is more fun with a little smoke and mirrors.”
He gives me a devilish wink.
I shake my head at him, unable to keep my smile from growing wide. I point a finger into his chest, beaming up at him. “You, Mr Fields, are insufferable.”
He laughs. “That’s a lie. You find me charming. I know when you’re lying, remember?”
“Have I ever mentioned how much I hate that?”
“You don’t have to,” his voice is full of affection. “I can tell when you hate it, too.”
Something pops into my head, and I wag my finger at him. “A-ha, but I lied to you once, and you never knew.”
“Oh, yeah,” he says indulgently. “And when was this?”
“The night I was attacked by the thug. It wasn’t random. Una was there.”
Slowly, his smile grows wider. “I knew you were lying then, too. Didn’t you notice my knuckles were f**ked up the next morning?”
“No, I didn’t. And what does that mean? You spent the night on the couch.”
“Not the whole night. I snuck out, found the f**k Una paid to threaten you, and made sure he wouldn’t be doing it again.”
I stare at him, awestruck. “How did you know?”
“I asked you a few innocent questions, watched your reactions, and figured the rest out for myself. It takes a lot of practice to be able to lie to me.” He pauses, voice going soft and sexy. “And I’m too obsessed with you not to know every single one of your tells.”
That answer both endlessly pleases and irritates the hell out of me at the same time.
“That’s…okay, that’s kind of cool.”
He chuckles tenderly as his arms go around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. I press my face into his shoulder, breathing him in. “And I love you,” I whisper.
He lifts my chin and takes my mouth in a slow, lingering kiss before coming up for air. “Yeah, ya do.”
Several people wolf whistle and shout encouragements at us as they pass by. He’s holding me so tight that I can feel his phone start to vibrate in his pocket, interrupting our little moment.
I giggle, breaking the kiss. “Is that a vibrating phone in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
He gives me a crooked smirk as he pulls out his phone to answer it. “A bit of both.”
He doesn’t let go of me through his conversation. I’m not sure who he’s talking to, but his end consists of a lot of yes and no answers, before ending with a, “Great, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon, then.”
I watch as he tucks the phone back in his pocket and pulls me closer, pressing his lips to my temples. “Who was that?” I ask.
His answering grin makes me shiver, in a good way. “That was my agent over in the States. You’re about to cough up on that agreement, darlin’.”
“Huh?”
“I just got booked for a string of shows. We’re going to Vegas, my dear.”
I stare at him, open-mouthed, remembering the time when he told me how he did one of his tricks, and in exchange I’d have to go to America with him the next time he had shows there. It seems I really am going to keep my promise to Dad and let Jay take me on an adventure.
I swallow hard, shivers breaking out all over my skin, and reply excitedly, “I guess we are. I can’t wait!”
Epilogue
Several months later. Las Vegas, Nevada.
I curse as I accidentally prick myself with the needle. The suit I’m designing for Jay to wear during his next performance is almost complete. Up until recently, I’ve only ever designed dresses, but since I’m now a permanent member of his style and wardrobe team, I’ve been inspired to create something truly original. Something that represents him completely.
If Mum is up there somewhere looking down on me, I think she’d be proud. I’ve taken the things she taught me and turned them into a career. It took me a couple of weeks to train a new secretary for Dad, but now I’ve finally left my solicitor’s office days behind me.
I get to give style advice and create my own designs for a living. For me, it doesn’t get much better than that.
This final part of the suit needed to be hand-stitched, a tiny red heart in the corner of the left lapel, and I was concentrating so hard that I managed to prick myself, drawing blood. I stick my finger in my mouth as I go in search of a Band-Aid. Finding one, I quickly wrap it around the cut and return to my sewing. I run my hand over the beautiful, midnight blue fabric, truly proud of the work I’ve done.
I can’t wait to surprise Jay with this. I’ve been sneakily taking his measurements the past few weeks, ensuring that the suit will fit perfectly, but he has no clue what I’ve been up to. As I go to thread the needle again, I suddenly become aware of something cold on my skin. Glancing down, I gasp, my hand going to my mouth in surprise.
Right there on my finger is the most beautiful diamond engagement ring I’ve ever seen, and it definitely wasn’t there a second ago. I stare at it for what feels like forever. Standing up again, I walk over to the mirror by my bed and stare at my hand through the glass. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Jay standing in the doorway, a smile on his mouth and love beaming from him.
This is the way of things when your boyfriend is an illusionist. He has a habit of appearing out of thin air, and deep down he’s just a big kid who thrives on mischievous pranks and coming up with elaborate ways to surprise people.
His childhood may have been stolen by adults, but he claims that childhood back with each new trick he creates. For months now I have been completely under his spell.
“What is this?” I ask, turning and thrusting my hand out to him; my heart is hammering and my brain is refusing to believe the very obvious meaning of the diamond currently residing on my ring finger.
“It’s yours,” the mercurial bastard replies, all matter of fact, while my heart is zinging with a thousand mushy, fuzzy, lovey-dovey emotions.
My eyes grow instantly watery with love and my cheeks flush pink with nervous excitement. “Jason, I’m not going to make you explain how you got this ring on my finger, but I must insist that you tell me why y-you’ve put it there,” I stammer, my voice jittery.
He strides towards me and takes both my shaky hands into his. He lifts them and places them on his chest, while looking down at the ring as he rubs his thumb over it.
“I want you to belong to me. I want to tell the world that you’re mine. That’s why I’ve put it there, Watson.”
I blink away a tear and keep my eyes closed, whispering, “You have to ask the question.”
His hot breath hits my cheeks as he leans in. He kisses away my tears, then nuzzles his nose into my temples. “Will you marry me, Matilda?” he asks softly.
I open my eyes then and look up into his, replying instantly, “Yes, oh my God, yes.”
He takes my face into his hands then, and kisses me until I’m tugging on his shirt and trying to figure out the quickest and most efficient way to rid him of his clothes. I don’t have to think for very long, because he pulls away, his eyes twinkling as he begins to undress himself with abandon. I watch, eating up every inch of skin that he reveals. Once he’s na**d, though, he doesn’t come to me. Instead he walks over to the where I’ve left the suit.
Turning back to meet my gaze tenderly, he asks, “For me?”
My heart squeezes. “Yeah, Jay, it’s for you.”
He grins when he sees the tiny outline of a heart I’ve stitched into the fabric, rubs his finger over it, but doesn’t breathe a word. His silence speaks volumes. Next he starts to try it on. A minute later he’s fully dressed and I come to stand in front of him and smooth out the collar.
“You look good, husband-to-be,” I smile up at him.
He smiles hotly and growls with satisfaction as he scoops me up into his arms before throwing me onto the bed. He crawls up my body, his eyes dark with lust, “I want to be your husband now. I don’t want to wait.”
I giggle. “How soon do you think we could get Dad and Jessie over here? You know they’d go crazy if we had a wedding without them.”
Jay tilts his head to the side, like he’s thinking about it. “Hmm, a couple of days maybe?”
“That’s frighteningly soon, Jay. Are you sure about this?”
He leans down and bites lightly on my neck. “Never been surer about anything in my life.”
His words make me melt. “Okay, then. I only have one rule.”
“And what’s that?” he asks, not really paying attention as his mouth works its way down my neck.
