47. Amelie
47
AMELIE
I’ve just started on a new dress when Henry knocks on my door.
I usually vow to not work on garments past eight p.m. Half the time, when I start something late in the night, I end up cutting the patterns weirdly or stitching the hem crookedly. But I’ve missed my sewing machine, so I don’t care. A botched hem isn’t the end of the world as we know it, so after waking up, I yanked out a roll of yellow fabric and started cutting the panels.
Still, though, I set it all aside when I hear the knock. It’s ten on the dot, just as Henry promised. Jen and Meg are out together, and I’m thankful. I really don’t feel like answering questions about this arrangement.
I slip my purse on my shoulder and open the door. Henry smiles at the sight of me, but I don’t smile back. “How’d it go?” I ask, rather than waiting.
His smile wavers. “Wrong question.”
A dry laugh escapes me. “I figured.”
“He’s keeping my pieces,” he tells me as we walk to the elevator. “Unless I can convince him otherwise, that’s the outcome.”
“Oh.” Somehow, I expected Henry to just…get them back. Today. It was a na?ve assumption, but I’ve always pictured Roman as a man with very little fight in him. Clearly that isn’t the case. “We were right, then?”
“Pretty sure,” he says with a shrug.
I step onto the elevator. “I’ve been thinking of ways to get him in trouble, if that interests you. He’d be gone, you’d get your pieces, and you can display wherever you want. It’s a win-win.”
Henry sighs. “I don’t think I can go about it like that.”
“We don’t want him caught?”
“Not…like that,” he admits, offering no further explanation. “Truthfully, Ames, I just want my pieces back, and I never want to see him again.”
I bite down on my lip. How can we do that? Getting Henry’s work back without outing Roman seems like an impossibility.
The elevator door opens before I find a solution. Henry leads me out to his vehicle, and I thank my lucky stars that Mimi and Olive are in bed already. I couldn’t explain this if I wanted to.
Henry’s car is still warm, so I hop in and practically snuggle into the leather seats. Once he’s settled in, I ask, “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”
He starts the engine. “No.”
“No?”
“Not yet.”
I suddenly feel like I’m being kidnapped.
“It’s nothing crazy, Amelie,” he says, as if he can read my mind.
I huff. “It better not be.”
“You have my word.”
“Fine.” It does not feel fine. “Back to the auction thing, then.”
He exhales and pulls his car out of the parking spot. “He’s not even letting me attend the event. I’m basically out of ammunition.”
I tap my fingers against my thigh, keeping my eyes out the window. “I’m going to suggest something, and you’re presumably going to decline.”
“I’m not,” he says, a laugh trapped behind his words. “I’m open to anything.”
“Okay. You let me get your pieces back.”
The words, I say them hesitantly. I’ve never offered anything like this to anyone. Risking myself to help someone? Risking my friends, and our cover, and our time? It’s not something I take lightly.
I think Henry is aware of that, because he seems to contemplate the words carefully before responding.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t want it to be on you.”
“I do this regularly,” I remind, expecting that to jar him.
He just shakes his head. “Still.”
“If I could get him caught, would you want that?”
I’m giving him a choice, because I very well could. I think, at least. But Roman being caught if Henry doesn’t want it sounds horrible to me.
“I don’t know,” he says finally. “I don’t know what that would do for my mom.”
I nod. “That’s fine. But if you change your mind, I have the resources for it.”
He looks over at me. “You scare me a little, you know?”
I grin as I sink further into my seat. He scares me, too, whether he knows it or not. I’m terrified of what he makes me feel. What he makes me want. I wonder if he means it that way too. Maybe he’s scared of what he feels for me.
I don’t find it to be likely, but I guess it’s possible.
“Yeah,” I say, instead of saying all that. “Yeah, I know.”
Before I know it, I’m in Henry’s apartment building, waiting for him to unlock his front door.
I didn’t really expect him to bring me here, but I guess there’s nowhere else to be. It’s not as though either of us really need to be parading around the city right now, not with the accusations we’ve thrown at Roman.
The door swings open, and I’m expecting to be greeted by Betty. Instead, there’s a girl sitting on his counter in a purple onesie, holding a bowl of pasta and a can of diet coke.
“ Lizzy ?”
Her head snaps toward me, and her eyes widen. “Amelie?! OH MY GOSH I’M GOING TO CRY.”
“Lizzy!” I repeat, this time more enthusiastic. “How are you?”
Liz basically vaults over the kitchen table and runs up to me, wrapping me in the most suffocating hug I’ve had in years. “I’m great now ! I’ve missed you. Oh, my gosh, when Henry brought you up, I was like, ‘ Please let me see her !’, and he was all, ‘No, that’s not going to happen’ . We didn’t actually say any of that, but I knew what his answer would be, so I never asked.” She releases me and shakes her head. “How are you here?”
I turn toward Henry. “She doesn’t know?”
“I feel as though she has to have the gist by now.”
Liz grins. “I do. I just want you to say it.”
Henry leans back against the countertop and crosses his arms. He does that a lot. I think he knows it distracts me. “We’re working together.”
“ AND?! ”
“There’s no and ,” he says. I note that his entire stance shifts into something stiffer. “We’re just trying to get my work back.”
Lizzy’s disappointment is obvious, but she tries to hide it. “Well, good. I’ve missed you dearly, Amelie. I’ve had no one to share my jewelry with—well, I’ve got Flo, but she just doesn’t care as much as you. The lack of excitement is gutting .”
“It’s been equally as horrid for me,” I say with full sincerity.
Liz gives my arm a squeeze and grabs her can off the table, downing the rest of its contents. She mirrors Henry’s stance, and I think it’s unintentional, but it’s enough to make me laugh. “I’m glad you’ve figured things out. Have you guys…discussed…” She lets her voice trail off, as if she’s worried to voice the problem.
Henry looks down at her. “Just ask, Liz.”
“Oh, thank God. Why did you guys break up? What happened? I’ve been dying to know this for four years. This is like the royal wedding, but better.”
“It was our parents,” Henry responds dryly. “Both of ours. Amelie’s took my letters, and, as you heard earlier, Dad stopped the calls.”
She gapes. “ That’s what that was about?”
“Were you not listening?”
“No, I was really just there to antagonize him.” She sighs, then turns back to me. “Well, you can help us out, right? You can really get Henry’s work back.”
Henry shakes his head. “ Liz ?—”
“No, really!” She covers his mouth with her hand. “Look, Amelie, I don’t want you to feel pressured. But since you’re already trying…” She shrugs . “ If you could simply lend us an evening, I think we could get it done much faster.”
“We already discussed that,” Henry says, maneuvering around Lizzy’s arm. “That could go really poorly.”
“Yeah, but do you want Dad to win?”
“I suppose not,” he says, sounding resigned.
“Then let’s start thinking!” Liz slams her fist down on the countertop. “How could this work? Amelie, you’re skilled. Can’t you do something with grappling hooks and web shooters?”
I snort. “I’m not well-versed in web shooters, but I think I could work something out.” I look over at Henry. “I just need you to say the word.”
He licks his lips and looks away. “I know you could do it. I just don’t want you in hot water because of me.”
“I don’t think we could get in hotter water. If we think logically about this, your dad probably has as much dirt on me as I have on him, solely from my last name. He’s just been too scared to use it.” I exhale. “I’m going to help you, Henry. And I’d really like you to want me to, but if you don’t…I’m sorry. But I’m going to help you anyway.”
It’s almost selfish, in a way, how badly I need to do this for him. Despite my reluctance to help him just weeks ago, I don’t feel like I can get away from this without solving it. I want to be the one to finish this.
It stopped being just about Henry, though that’s a lot of it. But finding out that this whole thing goes back to my parents …it changes things.
“You said you wouldn’t steal anymore of my art,” Henry says, almost playfully.
“Stealing it back is a little different.”
“Do it,” he says. “If anyone can get away with it, it’s you.”
My eyebrows raise. “That sounds like a compliment.”
“It is.”
A faint smile crosses my lips. It’s enough to snag Henry’s attention on my mouth, and that’s enough to make me wish that Liz was in a different room.
She’s not, though, and she makes her presence known by clearing her throat. “Well, anyways, I’m going home. I have an article due tomorrow and I want to kill my boss.”
“Oh, speaking of.” I grab her wrist as she walks past me. “I read your article on Louboutins, and it was amazing. You’re so right for all of it.”
She gasps and grabs my other wrist. “Thank you! My boss was so mad at me for that. He thought I was degrading them, but I wasn’t! THEY’RE JUST SHOES.”
“Liz, we have things to do, and it’s nearing eleven.” Henry nods toward the door. “See you tomorrow, hm? Mom isn’t coming to the auction, but I assume you are.”
“Unfortunately,” Liz sighs. She gives me a quick squeeze and a peck on the cheek, then leaves the apartment. Her bowl and can are still on the table, and Betty is pawing at the dishware.
“She is a mess ,” Henry says through a laugh.
“I love her,” I say solemnly. “I can’t believe she doesn’t hate me.”
“Why would she? She loves you, too. The moment I said your name, she told me to get over myself and admit that I missed you.”
My stomach dips, but I try to ignore it and keep the conversation on track. “I just assumed that she would.”
“She sees you as someone who enjoys terrorizing my father, which means you’re on our side. In a world of people who worship him, that’s an incredible thing.”
I start toying with a cat collar I found on the counter. “I was never against you, Henry,” I say, and though I’ve told him this before, I want to say it again. “I never targeted you. I take what I’m told.”
“I know.”
“You also know that I’ll never take your work again. I think I’ve said that at least three times.”
“You have, yeah.” He’s grinning now, like this is funny.
“What? What are you laughing at?”
“You just…” He looks away, then shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“ What ?”
“No, really, it’s nothing.”
“You can’t just?—”
“I have something for you.”
I snap my mouth shut as Henry walks over to his coffee table. He lifts the vase off the center, and I blink. Is he giving me the vase? It’s pretty and all, but it doesn’t match my décor whatsoever. Surely he would know this; he’s seen my apartment a few times. Though maybe?—
There’s a pop as he pries a small black square off the bottom, completely cutting off my train of thought. Henry holds it in his palm, staring at it for a few seconds before holding it out to me. “The memory card. Take it.”
I stare at the card like it’s a snake. It’s ridiculous to think this piece of plastic started this whole thing. I’d honestly forgotten about it, though I can’t understand how. A few weeks ago, it was all I worried about, and now, it’s the last thing on my mind.
Hesitantly, I take it out of his hand. “I forgot about this,” I say aloud. “But you can just keep it.”
Henry looks at me curiously. “What?”
“Keep it. I don’t want it.”
He frowns and takes the chip from me. After staring at it for a few moments, he puts it in his pocket and grabs his coat off the hook. “Okay. Let’s go.”
I blink. “Where are we?—”
“You’ll know it when you see it.”
I don’t put up a further argument. There’s no use, anyways. Whether I’m ready to admit it to myself or not, I’d follow him wherever.
Might as well start with something like this.