Chapter 2 #2
“Right.” I unslung my bag from my shoulder and unbuckled the clasp.
It was one of those purses that doubled as a small backpack, because carrying a handbag made me feel like my mom.
I dug around inside, my fingers scrambling across my wallet, a half-eaten pack of peanut M&M’s, and my hairbrush, but nothing else.
The guard cleared his throat as I continued to rummage. “Miss, you’re holding up the line.”
“Just give me a sec.” I unzipped the large inner pocket only to find a tube of Burt’s Bees and a few bobby pins. “It has to be here somewhere,” I muttered to myself.
After all, I’d sworn up and down to Sadie that the all-important pass would not, under any circumstance, leave my neck. But less than an hour later, I’d yanked it off.
I know, I know, how irresponsible of me, but the lanyard was beyond itchy, and despite my broken promise, I made a point of putting it in my backpack where I couldn’t lose it.
So where the hell was the damn thing?
“I’m sorry, miss,” the guard said, pointing at the exit, “but I need you to leave until you locate your badge.”
My chest tightened, and I scrambled for an excuse to get me in the door.
“Look, sir, you don’t understand. I’m Violet James’s assistant.
I need to deliver an important package before her panel starts.
If I don’t…” I trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blank with a consequence worthy of sympathy.
“I’m in a jam here. Any way you could help a girl out? ”
The man crossed his arms. “Lady, I don’t give a shit who you work for. No badge, no entry.”
“Jeez, you don’t need to be a dick about it,” I shot back. Before he could respond, I whipped around and threw the door open with more force than necessary, bursting out into the golden afternoon light.
There was only one person who could help me now, so I pulled out my phone and muttered a quick prayer. Violet answered after two rings.
“Hey, I was just about to text you,” she said. “We have to leave for the panel in five, and I need Jewel’s present. Where are you?”
“Stuck outside the convention center,” I told her, wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear. With my hands free, I searched my bag one last time. “I can’t find my pass, and there’s this huge, Arnold Schwarzenegger–looking dude who won’t let me in.”
“Well, where’d you last have it?”
I stopped for a second to think. All Comic Con attendees were required to scan in and out of the convention. “When I left the convention center for the hotel,” I said, and two seconds later, a terrible thought occurred to me. “Oh God! What if I lost it in the cab?”
“Indie, relax. I’ll send someone to collect the present, and then you can retrace your steps.”
“Retrace my steps?” I choked out. “I don’t have time to traipse across New York City. Melody’s panel is about to start.”
There was a pause, but then my sister said, “What exactly do you expect me to do about it?”
“You’re Violet James, for crying out loud! Tell them to let me in.” The moment the words left my mouth, I realized how childish I sounded. Never in my life had I sunk as low as leveraging my sister’s fame to my advantage.
“It doesn’t work like that, and you know it.” Violet’s tone wasn’t snarky, but there was a definite, matter-of-fact edge to her response. “I’m really sorry, Indie, but I have to go. Stay where you are, and someone will be down shortly.”
“Wait, Vi—”
But the line went dead. I wondered for a moment if this was actually happening—if I was about to miss the main reason I’d come to New York in the first place.
Maybe my apprehension about working for my sister had manifested in the form of this ridiculous nightmare, and in reality, it was late Friday night, and I was fast asleep at our hotel.
A cool voice roused me from my musing. “Hello, Indigo.”
“Jesus!” I exclaimed, slapping a hand to my heart when Sadie popped up beside me like a malevolent Whac-a-Mole. “How’d you get down here so fast?”
She ignored my question. “Where’s the gift?”
“Right here.” The holographic wrapping paper flashed in the sunlight when I held it up for her to see. “I was hoping you could help me—”
“No,” she replied, not waiting to hear the rest of my question. Her mouth pinched together as if the mere act of standing in my presence was painful.
“I—what?”
“No.” She seized the box from my hands. “I don’t help people break rules, especially those with no regard for them.”
“You’ve gotta be joking.”
“Have I done anything in the short time we’ve known each other to indicate I’m the joking type?” Sadie replied, and I had to admit, she had a point. She looked like the kind of girl who’d be typecast as the stereotypical punitive librarian. Or a drill sergeant.
“What’s your problem with me?” I finally asked.
She sniffed. “My problem? You’re a disgrace to personal assistants everywhere.”
“You know I’m not actually a personal assistant, right?”
“That’s exactly my point.”
“Okay, fine,” I said, coming to the conclusion there would be no reasoning with her. “I’m a shitty PA. I promise I’ll never assume such a lofty position again, but please—there’s a panel starting in”—I glanced at my phone—“two minutes ago that I’m dying to see, and I could really use your help.”
Sadie studied me. From the way her head was cocked in calculation, I knew she could do it—she could get me inside.
After another moment, she straightened up and brushed her ponytail over her shoulder.
“If attending meant so much to you, then you shouldn’t have removed your badge.
” Her mouth twisted into a not-so-polite smile. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Indigo.”
Throat tight, I watched as she slipped back into the convention center, Jewel’s present tucked snuggly under her arm.
* * *
The green room was deserted when I finally returned, my Comic Con badge hanging around my neck.
Despite all the trouble a piece of plastic and lanyard caused me, my pass hadn’t been hard to locate.
My first guess was that it was riding around Manhattan in the back of a taxi, but since I had no clue how to track down said taxi, I went to the hotel in hopes of finding it there.
Sure enough, it was lying underneath the armchair I’d dumped my bag onto.
All I wanted to do afterward was crawl in bed and put my miserable day behind me, but Violet’s business phone was still in my pocket, so I had to go back to the convention center and return it.
Exhaustion settled over me as I dragged myself toward the couches, tossing my bag on the coffee table as I passed by. My aim was off, and it hit the floor, spilling its contents across the carpet. At that exact moment, my cell buzzed with an incoming text.
Violet:
Hey, find your badge yet? Our panel just finished, but we’re doing a signing, and I’d really appreciate a FIJI Water.
“Seriously?” My entire body felt drained, like a phone on two percent battery.
The last thing I wanted was to deal with my sister, especially after today’s events.
It wasn’t her fault I lost my pass, but she hadn’t helped me either.
“You know what I’d really appreciate, Violet?
” I said, dropping to my knees to clean up my things.
“If you took your goddamn FIJI Water and shoved it up your bony, stuck-up—”
“Um, are you okay down there?”
At the sound of someone’s voice, I jerked in surprise, slamming my head against the underside of the coffee table.
“Crap, I’m sorry! I thought you knew I was here.”
I looked up to see who was talking, but the pain at the back of my skull was blinding. All I could make out was the blurry frame of someone tall. “Ow,” I groaned, rubbing the tender spot that I hoped wouldn’t become a baseball-size lump by tomorrow.
Once the sharp throbbing faded to a dull ache, I blinked the tears from my eyes and focused on the culprit responsible for scaring me to death. Standing above me was a lanky guy with messy, strawberry-blond hair in desperate need of a cut.
“Where the hell did you come from?” I asked, still grimacing.
Mystery guy pointed at the opposite couch. “I was napping.”
“And I knew you were here how?” I muttered, more to myself than him. From the door, it was impossible to see anyone lying across the cushions. He arched a brow at me, and I sighed. “Sorry, I’m having a craptastic day.”
“Here,” he said, squatting down beside me.
“Let me help.” He swept a pile of spare change together and pushed it in my direction.
With our new proximity, I was able to get a better look at him.
He wasn’t handsome in the standard context of the word—his nose was a bit too long, and his jaw was slightly crooked—but there was something endearing about his boyish looks and freckles.
His eyes, however, were breathtaking: a soft green that reminded me of new growth in spring surrounded by thick, blond lashes.
I know this guy, I realized. How do I know him?
As I shoved the last of my belongings into my bag, mystery guy rose to his feet.
“Are you all right?” he asked, offering me a hand up. I blinked but placed mine in his, and he hauled me off the ground. “You sounded upset before.”
Great, he’d heard me bitching. What a wonderful first impression. “Oh, that? I’m fine. I was just venting. Nothing to worry about.”
“But you mentioned someone named Violet. You weren’t talking about Violet James, were you?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
He grimaced. “She your boss or something?”
“I’d rather taste test dog food for the rest of my life than work for Violet. I’m Indie, her sister.”
“Dog food, huh,” he said, his face relaxing. “Even the wet kind? That stuff makes me think of chemically processed barf.”
“Especially the wet kind,” I told him.
The corner of his mouth twitched in an almost smile, and he held out his hand in greeting. “I’m Xander. It’s nice to meet you.”