Page 48 of Grizz

“That’s a compliment in my book,” he replies, kissing my cheek.

His friends cheer.Someone hands me a cocktail that is bright red and steaming faintly.It looks like it might dissolve a metal spoon, but I hold it anyway.

“It’s a Molten Manhattan,” Elias says proudly.“The dry ice is completely unnecessary but absolutely fabulous.”

“It looks like a witch’s cauldron.”

“Exactly.”

The platform vibrates beneath us as the music changes to a tune that’s deeper, bass heavy, throbbing through the lounge.The birthday energy is infectious, swirling around us.He walks me toward a more private area of the place where we can actually hear each other speak.

Elias is mid-ramble about how his birthday should be a federal holiday when I reach into my bag.“I come bearing gifts,” I say, lifting a medium-sized, neatly wrapped box.

“For me?”He gasps, pressing a hand to his chest.“Daisy Turner broughtmea present?Everyone clear out, this is a moment.”

People around us laugh.Someone yells “Open it!”and Elias, ever the performer, holds the box up.

He tears into the paper with theatrical vigor—then stops.

His breath hitches.

“Is this—” he whispers.

I bite back a smile.“Yes.”

He lifts the scarf from the box and for a second, the ridiculous, lava-lit lounge blurs around us.The scarf is soft dove-gray cashmere, with a faint charcoal pattern.It’s exactly the one he pointed at in a SoHo shop window months ago, sighing dramatically when he learned it was sold out everywhere.

“You said it was the only scarf on earth that ‘understood your bone structure,’” I remind him.

“I DID SAY THAT!”he shouts, clutching it to his chest.“And I STAND BY IT.Daisy… how?This color was impossible to find.”

“I pulled some strings,” I say simply.

He looks at me, eyes softening, expression warming with the familiarity that reminds me why he’s been one of the most important people in my life for almost a decade.

“You always do this,” he murmurs.“You listen to the throwaway stuff.The things I say once and forget.And then you find a way to make them… real.”

I shrug, but my chest tugs.“Someone has to keep you grounded.”

He drapes the scarf dramatically around his neck.“I look incredible.Tell me I look incredible.”

“You lookincredible.”

He beams.

Then, with the scarf looped just so, he narrows his eyes at me and gives me a critical once-over.“There’s something off about you.”

I try to look offended, but I have never felt more off in my life.“I am not off,” I say quickly.

“Yes, you are,” he says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me away from the crowd.He shoves me down into a corner table and pulls a chair in close to me.“You’re glowing but not in your usual well-moisturized, frighteningly competent Daisy way.It’s… different.”

“Nothing is different.”

“I know you, Daisy.Your face is doing the thing when something’s wrong.”

I try to look innocent.“What thing?”

Elias rolls his eyes.“That thing where you overcorrect your facial expression because you’re hiding a secret, and even though you think it works, you’re actually screaming ‘I’m off!’in neon.”