Page 76 of The Apparent Trap

“She said it made her think.”

“Thinking is good?”

He tilts his head. “It doesn’t seem like they’re breaking up,” he says, a sad note in his voice. “She was sort of rattled by the segment this morning—”

“That you didn’t know about.”

He nods again. “Correct. So we talked about that, but it was more that she was irritated that Georgia had brought it up, not that it changed her mind about anything. And then I asked her how things were with Mark after Sweden. She said the trip had been really great for them. And that she was happy. So . . .” He shrugs.

“So, our work here is done,” I say with a forced smile.

His hands make their way to his pockets. His eyes are so sad that I know what he’s going to say before he even says it. “I think it has to be.”

“Well, Step-Grandfather,” I joke, making light when for some reason I feel like crying, but I do enjoy the wince it elicits from him. “We are pretty terrible schemers.”

“We are.”

“Maybe we were wrong,” I point out. “To try and meddle, even if our intentions were for good reasons.”

“The wrong thing for the right reasons.”

“Yeah,” I reply, my breath hitching at the thought that the same sentiment applies to us.

“I’m sorry I came in here and assumed—”

“It’s okay.” I wave the idea away. “I get it.”

“You’re gonna have to tell Georgia now, I guess.”

“Well, it’s either that or she’s going to think Carmen’s cheating on my dad with you.” I enjoy the wince I get from that too.

“Just . . .” He pauses. “Ask her to keep the secret, for Carmen’s sake, okay? You can tell her . . . you can tell her whatever you want about . . . us.” He looks down. “I’m sure it’s been hard for you to not have a friend to talk to about everything.”

My mind flashes back to Sweden and what he said about holding in the secret about Carmen. It must be so isolating to not have anyone to share your hardest trials with. It has been hard keeping this from Georgia, and it’s only been a few months. My heart aches, knowing that I can’t be that person for him, no matter how much I wish I could.

“If it makes you feel better, she’s trustworthy too,” I assure him. “She won’t say anything.”

“Maybe this means she’ll stop acting like she wants to kill me every time I come in for a segment.”

I laugh, the sound mixed with heaviness. “I’m not so sure more information is going to help with that.”

He bites his lip, holding in a smile. “Good point.” He doesn’t say anything else for a moment. He just stands there, drinking me in like it’s an indulgence to look and he’s going to allow himself the courtesy.

I push off the door to give him space to leave. “We can still be friends, even without schemes or whatever,” I say, unrealistic optimism brimming. “You don’t have to be a stranger, you know.”

He puts his hand on my jaw and rubs his thumb along it. My heart beats fast again, as though just that simple touch is enough to put me back where we were before the pizza interrupted us. “I think I do have to,” he says quietly.

And without another word, he walks out the door.

Chapter 23

My buzzer rings so soon after I’ve texted Georgia that I’m betting she just went for a drink around the corner and never actually went home.

When I open the door, she shoves a drink in my hand, so apparently that theory was correct. I look down. Not the drink I was thinking of.

“You did not go to that tourist trap and get a Frozen Hot Chocolate.”

“Excuse me, it’s a Frrrozen Hot Chocolate,” she says, rolling her r’s like it’s her favorite game and holding up her own cup. “And do not refer to my beloved Serendipity3 as a tourist trap. It’s the only place I can sit under a mural of a unicorn. Besides, you’re the person who chooses to live in the food wasteland of the Upper East Side.”