20. Ofelia #2
“Sorry,” I say, meaning it. “I just—it’s complicated. And for what it’s worth, asking you to build it was Lars’s idea, not ours. Neither of us wanted to ask you. I insisted on talking to you first, which didn’t go down at all well, by the way.”
“Ha. I bet it didn’t.” He sounds marginally comforted by the thought of pissing Alexei off. “Ours,” he says a moment later. “And us. I take it that whatever you two have going on isn’t going anywhere, then?”
“No,” I answer immediately. “No, Mickey, it’s not going anywhere.”
“But he hasn’t spoken to Roman about it,” my brother says flatly.
“Like I said.” I match his tone. “It’s complicated.”
“Yeah.” His tone is more than a little caustic. “You have no idea how fucking complicated it is.”
Now I’m really getting pissed off. “No, of course I don’t, Mickey, because as we both know, I’m not allowed to know those kind of details, am I? I just have to fucking put up with the consequences of them. So this is me doing that. Now—are you going to help me or not?”
Another long silence, during which I really wish my brother was close enough for me to physically torture. But when he finally speaks again, his tone is much less combative.
“Fair enough,” he says quietly. “Sorry, ’Felia.” His use of my old nickname brings unexpected tears to my eyes.
“It’s fine.” I sniff. “I was being mean.”
“Yeah, well. I was being an asshole.” That’s the thing about my brother—he’s impossible to stay mad at. “I’ll talk to Lars,” he says. “And yes. I’ll help you.” He pauses. “But I have some . . . business to take care of first, so it might be a few days. Okay?”
“Okay.” I sniff again. “Thanks, Mickey. I mean it.”
“Yeah.” He sounds resigned now, rather than angry. “Christ. What a mess. No offense, Ofelia, but you could have chosen someone slightly less problematic.”
I give a choked laugh. “Since when does anyone in this family make the less problematic choice?”
“Good point,” he says ruefully. “Okay, crazy sibling. I have to get back to the madhouse before Roman’s radar goes off.”
“Give them my love.”
“Ha,” Mickey says. “Lie to them for you, you mean. Man, you’re going to owe me for this one. And I do mean owe. Like years of favors.”
“Fine,” I say, smiling. “All the favors you want.”
“I’m going to date your friends, Ofelia. Just saying.”
“No chance, asshole. Especially given your habit of drugging them.”
“Low blow. You know that was necessary—”
“Excuses, Mickey.”
“Fair. But you owe me now, so I am going to date them. I’ll do it, too. Don’t think I won’t.”
“I’m hanging up now, nerd boy,” I say, grinning as his tinny voice comes unabated from the speaker.
I end the call, still smiling.
That’s the thing about the men in our world, my brother included.
They drive me mad.
But when shit needs doing—they get it done.
“Ofelia!”
I turn in the middle of the cobblestoned alleyway and shield my eyes from the blazing midday sun, squinting at the slender figure walking uphill toward me.
“Seline?” I stare at her in shock. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Ah!” She comes to my side and halts, looking typically elegant beneath a broad-brimmed hat and enormous black sunglasses, red lipstick slashing her mouth.
“It is my cousin’s wedding soon, so my family tells me I am required to be here in Spain, and so here I am.
” She’s somehow managing to navigate the steep cobblestones in towering Louboutin heels, a feat which should qualify as an Olympic sport.
“I’m so happy to see you!” I return her cool cheek kisses. “And it’s the best coincidence. I’ve never needed a tarot reading more, I swear.”
“C’est vrai?” Standing back, she holds my hands, regarding me from behind her glasses. “Oui, chérie, I see that it is. You are changed, Ofelia.”
“Yes.” I flush, grateful for the midday heat that disguises it. “I imagine I am.”
“Oh la la!” Seline is possibly the only person I know who can actually carry off the French phrase. “Now I am intrigued. We will meet, and you will tell me all about it, yes? And we can look at your cards, see what they say.”
“I would like that.” I mean it. Right now, tarot cards feel like my only connection to Alexei. “Actually, how about this afternoon, during siesta? I will be finished with practice by then. Where should I meet you?”
“This afternoon can work, yes. But my cousin’s house is crazy, she has all the siblings, and there are friends—no, it is not peaceful. I shall come to you,” she announces, like it’s already settled. “Tell me how to come.”
Stifling a smile, I give her my address, warning her about the dragons. “I will tell them you’re coming,” I say, “but make sure it’s just you, or it will be awkward.”
“Of course.” She nods. “They both live with you, then? In the same house?”
“Next door. In the adjoining villa. But they’re really nice.” I feel the need to defend Teresa and Julia, whom I’ve become increasingly fond of.
“I am glad you finally choose your own people.” Seline looks genuinely happy for me. “This, it is good independence, I think.”
“I think so too.”
“Good.” She kisses my cheeks. “So. I will see you in siesta. But I cannot stay very long today.”
“I get it. Family.”
“Not at all.” She gives a mischievous laugh.
“I just met a quite divine Spanish man who gives tours of the secret tunnels beneath the Genil river. He tells me they lead all the way to the Alhambra, can you imagine?” She gives me a sly wink.
“He has invited me for a visite privée, a private tour, this evening after he finishes with his afternoon tourists. Très romantique, no?”
“Yes,” I laugh. “It sounds extremely romantic. Do you plan to seduce him before or after the tour?”
“Darling.” She waves dramatically. “Why not both?”
She clatters up the street, and I watch her go, admiring her ability to navigate the treacherous path with such elegance.
“No!” Seline stares at the cards on the table, then back at me, her eyes widening.
“But you have seen Mr. Petrovsky, then! And, oh la la, done so much more than just see!” She sits back on the low couch, her eyes sparkling.
“But just look at these cards, Ofelia.” She taps the first one.
“He comes here as both the King of Swords and the King of Wands. Full of restraint and honor, but also with such passion, yes? Delicious. And here, look at you.” She laughs, rolling her eyes.
“You are his Queen of Cups, my friend, but also his High Priestess. You are both mystery and magic to him, the woman he most desires and the one he still feels he doesn’t completely understand.
All women should dream of remaining such an enigma to the man who loves them. And here.”
She taps three cards between Alexei’s cards and mine.
“The Lovers,” she says, giving me a sly wink.
“The two of cups. The eight of wands. Oh my.” She shakes her head admiringly, clicking her tongue behind her teeth.
“It is all the feelings, no? And all the fireworks. But what is this?” She turns over another card.
“The three of wands. Now you are parted. Oh, dear—and the Hanged Man. This parting, it is an agony, no?” She gives me a knowing smile.
“But the Hanged Man, he does not mean this parting is forever, no, only that it feels this way.”
“Can you see what comes next?” I blurt the words out before I can hold them back.
“Ofelia.” She shakes her head remonstratively. “What have I told you about reading for the future? All cards will predict is the next action you will take if you remain on your present course. Change course, and the next action changes, as does the outcome.”
“I know.” I try not to let my impatience show. She’s told me the same thing a dozen times. “But I know my course. I know what I want. I just want to know when it’s going to happen.”
If.
If it’s going to happen.
Because no matter what Alexei said, it’s hard to undo years of self-doubt.
“Hmph.” Seline gives me a dry look. “Very well. We shall see.” She pulls out several more cards, the line between her eyebrows deepening slightly as she contemplates them.
“What?” I say anxiously. “What do you see?”
She gives me a faintly annoyed look. “I am not a psychic, Ofelia. I read cards. It is a science, not woo-woo fairy tales.”
I bite back the familiar urge to laugh.
“But this”—she taps one of the cards—“this is not good.”
“No?” Despite knowing that it’s just a tarot reading, my heart sinks. “Why not?”
“The seven of swords. Betrayal and deceit.” Seline stares at the card, then touches the one next to it. “And the Tower. Unexpected events. Disruption. The breaking apart of stability.”
I bite my lip, corrosive doubt stealing through me.
She glances up. “But it is not all bad.”
Really? Because there’s an upside to betrayal, deceit, and breaking apart when it comes to a relationship?
“The six of swords. You move on from this difficult time. Also, there is movement, possibly over water.” She narrows her eyes at me. “I don’t suppose Alexei Petrovsky has a boat,” she says laughingly.
“Yes!” I seize on her words with almost pathetic gratitude. “That’s exactly where we were. On a boat. Does this mean I will be going back to it? With him?”
“Let us see.” She smiles indulgently. “I would normally tell you not to be so eager, Ofelia, but I think this once we make an exception, yes?” She turns over more cards.
“Well, now. The six of cups. Three of cups. Four of wands. Yes, Ofelia.” She sits back again.
“We have reunion, a sweet reunion. Celebration. And the support of friends and family. I would say it is almost certain that you will see him again.”
“Soon?” I push.
“Timing, you know, it is always difficult. But let us see.” She flips over a card to show an image of a blindfolded woman with two crossed swords in front of her and the sea behind her.
“That doesn’t look good,” I say, unable to conceal my disappointment.