15
Leo opened his suite to the group. Before storming the tower they pillaged his minibar for snacks. While the others claimed
their usual seats, Jules toured the space, taking in the curved bookshelves, the desk. Leo watched, amused. Soon, she turned
to him. “So this is what all the fuss is about.”
He beamed with pride of ownership. “Like it?”
“Love it.”
She stood at the window from which Aurora had likely gazed out over a century ago. Then she moved onto the one that overlooked
the garden and lingered there. He joined her. Below, Alex was seated on the stone bench in pretty much the same posture they’d
found him on the porch. Only this time, he was weeping openly. Sebastien paced circles in the grass, his hands lost in his
dark hair.
It was tough watching a breakup in real time. There was clearly love between them, but love couldn’t thrive under surveillance.
Matty had stopped by his room to grab his phone charger and returned a moment later with Ayesha, in silk pajamas and a matching
headscarf.
“Guess who has FOMO and wants to join us,” he announced.
“I don’t have FOMO.” She removed a stack of local magazines off a stool and sat down. “I’m concerned. They’re still out there.
I could hear them arguing from my room. Do you think they’ll make it?”
The consensus was still out. Some were hopeful, others weren’t.
“From my vantage point, it’s not looking good,” Jules said.
“Should we intervene?” Ayesha asked.
The answer was unanimous. “NO!”
Ayesha looked as though she might cry.
“For someone who doesn’t read or write romance, you’re obsessed with romantic love,” Vicky quipped.
“Forgive me for having a heart,” Ayesha said. “It’s like watching Ken and Barbie break up without the benefit of a dance number
or colorful set design. Very disturbing.”
“What bothers me is that we had no idea,” Vicky said. “That first night, at the garden party, he gushed over his fiancé, said
they traveled together all the time. Jules, you remember, right?”
Finally turning away from the window, she answered, “I remember.”
“Then, at Willie T’s, he told Dick that he’d come to Key West to get out of the house and have fun, which struck me as odd,”
Vicky said with the focus of a TV detective drawing dots on a timeline. “He lives in sunny California, if he wants to get
out of the house, have fun, indulge in a beach getaway, all he has to do is open his front door.”
“You never know what people are going through,” Ayesha said.
“We’re about to start the séance,” Matty told her. “If you stay, you join.”
“You’re the most unserious group of people I’ve ever spent any significant time with,” she said. “Go on, summon your spirit.
I’d like to see it.”
“Not if you’re bringing that energy,” Vicky replied. She got to her feet. “Leo, where did I leave the candle?”
He pointed to the shelves where the fancy designer candle sat. She grabbed it and patted her pockets. “Jules, do you have
a light?”
“Always.”
Jules fished something out of the small leather bag that she wore, cross body, over a loose men’s cotton shirt and a short denim skirt.
She tossed it to Vicky. Leo followed the silver arc of the lighter from her hand to Vicky’s, his heartbeat thundering in his chest. Their lighter, the very same that she’d tossed to him.
She had it still. Was it a talisman? Did she take it everywhere?
Vicky lit the candle. “Everybody, lock in.”
Matty locked in for the plot but mainly, Leo suspected, to support Vicky’s efforts. Ayesha brought her diamond cross to her
lips. Leo bypassed his usual chair and joined Jules at the desk’s edge. She slid him a glance and turned away, her face flush.
She might not have forgotten him, as he’d been led to believe. Or as he’d jumped to conclude based on her blunt denial on
their first encounter. We haven’t met, have we? Without hesitation, she’d replied, We haven’t. But she’d slipped just now and revealed her hand. The only question was how long she was going to go on pretending.
Vicky opened with a preamble that she’d riffed from a YouTube video, which she quickly abandoned because it didn’t feel authentic.
She closed her eyes. “Listen up, Aurora, you’re amongst friends here. We have great sympathy for what they put you through.
Your resentment is valid. If anything, we just want to hear your side of the story. If you wish, make yourself known.”
Silence filled the tower. For a long stretch, the only sound was the flickering candle. Then a distant knock made them jump.
Among the gasps, screams, whispers of “sweet Jesus,” Leo headed down the stairs to the main floor where the knock was heard,
his bare feet pounding on the wood steps. This was his domain, if only for the weekend, and if a ghost wanted in, it would
have to come through him. The others followed and crowded the stair landing. Leo yanked open the door, and everyone sighed
in relief to find Sebastien standing there.
“Man, you nearly sent us to an early grave,” Leo said.
“I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t clear what he was apologizing about. “Forget it,” he said. “Come in. We’re mid-séance, nothing out of the ordinary.”
Sebastien didn’t move. He stood at the doorway, shaking. Tougher than witnessing his breakup was watching him break down like
this. Ayesha flew to him and gently ushered him inside.
They returned to the tower and regained their places. Vicky blew out the candle and returned the lighter to Jules. Sebastien
fell into the armchair under the window, looked around. “You were part of this, Ayesha?”
“They roped me in,” Ayesha replied sheepishly.
“Please don’t stop because of me,” he said. “I’ll just sit here. Go on.”
“We’re done,” Vicky announced. “It’s cool to contact the dead, but crucial to connect with the living.”
Jules shared her snacks with Sebastien. “Where’s Alexandre?”
“At the Hilton,” he said. “Guys, I’m so embarrassed. I had no idea he’d show up like that.”
Vicky held up a hand. “Quit apologizing and get into it. What’s going on?”
“He doesn’t trust me,” Sebastien admitted.
“Did you give him cause not to?” Ayesha asked.
“I love him,” Sebastien replied. “I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if I didn’t. He’s always been insecure, but now he’s
crossed a line.”
“Obviously, you don’t owe us the truth,” Vicky said, after practically demanding it. “But there was no hint of trouble in
paradise. On our first night, you brought up your fiancé, showed off your rock, talked about the viral engagement video . . .”
Sebastien shot upright. “About that video,” he said, “it proves my point. Who’s seen it?”
Vicky and Ayesha had seen it. Jules and Leo hadn’t.
Matty qualified his answer. He’d seen it, but only because someone had shared it in a group chat.
For those who hadn’t seen it, Ayesha provided a summary.
“Our friend was onstage to receive an award. Just when he’s concluded his opening remarks, up comes Alexandre with a bouquet of roses and an engagement ring. The crowd loved it.”
“We were in DC, staying at the W. We had a reservation at a rooftop restaurant. He could’ve proposed at any time that weekend,
not onstage in front of my peers and editors, people I was trying to impress.”
“The timing was certainly off,” Ayesha agreed. “My husband proposed in Paris. We were there for my book launch, but he had
the good sense to wait until after the event.”
“Can you get past his insecurities?” July asked him.
“Not sure I can sign up for a lifetime of this,” Sebastien replied soberly.
This should have prompted Ayesha to launch into a vigorous defense of love and its ability to conquer all obstacles, but she
didn’t. Everyone fell silent.
“Let’s not sit around like a bunch of losers,” Sebastien said, suddenly defiant. “Let’s go out.”
“We were just out,” Ayesha reminded him.
“Yeah,” he said, “chasing Hemingway or whatever fuck else. We haven’t hit a gay bar or caught a drag show. This is Key West.
I caught shit for doing absolutely nothing, now I want to have fun.”
“Should we be aiding and abetting him?” Matty asked.
“We should,” Vicky replied, “but I can’t walk anymore. My feet hurt.”
“I’ve got a car,” Leo said. “I’m good to drive.”
“Where would you go?” Ayesha asked, cleverly extracting herself from the plan.
“I don’t know,” Sebastien said. “Let’s google and find out.”
“Well, I’m going to bed,” Ayesha said. “Have fun, everyone! Good night!”
“NO!”
Jules slipped off the edge of the desk where she’d been perched, quiet and withdrawn, and doled out orders. “Leo, get the
car. Sebastien, choose a spot. Ayesha, change out of your pajamas. Matty, Vicky, get up off the floor. We’re going out.”
Leo, who’d never seen her like this, sat riveted, until she snapped her fingers. “Let’s go!”