Chapter 13 Coco
Coco
“Sorry,” I say, dismissing him with a friendly wave. “In all the commotion, I forgot that you forgot.”
Stone swallows a bite of apple. “Yeah, nothing’s come back yet.”
He levels a steely gaze on me. Or is it steely? It feels steely. Like, soul-stripping, the kind of gaze that peels back layers and instantly spots the truth.
It makes me feel like he’ll say at any moment, You poisoned me and I lost my memory! You’re going to jail, where a woman named Bertha will make you her girlfriend and you’ll do anything for a cigarette.
Anything.
The first rule of lying is to keep the lie in the same hemisphere as the truth—not that I’m an expert. I don’t generally lie. However, this situation is an exception to the rule. To be clear, my rule about not lying.
“You and I? We work together.”
“How?”
“On the project.”
“What project?”
“The resort.”
“What resort?”
I sigh. This is harder than it should be. “You are building a resort in Mystic Meadows.”
The lambicorn bleats and he puts it down. Stone takes a bite of the apple, leans against the doorframe, and watches me with a gaze that makes me want to disappear even more than I normally do. “Why am I doing that? Building a resort?”
Beside me, Cristina holds her breath. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s waiting to see whether, at any point, Stone will recover his memory, or I’m going to lie about every question he asks.
I clasp my hands tightly. “You’re building a resort because you see the potential to make a lot of money. Mystic Meadows, my town, recently had some cool things happen.”
“Like what?”
“Like, well, the lambicorn.”
His gaze falls to Hercules, who looks up at him, too. Stone’s expression softens. “I gotta say, this little guy is super cute. I bet when I recover my memory, I’ll discover I have an entire farm filled with creatures like this one.”
“I doubt it,” I mutter.
Cristina elbows me. “Maybe you can take Stone back to the site and see if it jogs anything. Meanwhile, I’ll look into this.” She taps the book. “Between the two of us, we’ll help get your memory back.”
“Let’s hope so,” Stone murmurs.
“Whatever this is, it’s temporary. I’ll fix it. I always do.” He considers this. “At least, I think so.”
On our drive back to the construction site, Stone pulls out his wallet and checks his ID. “It says I live in New York. That doesn’t feel right.” He turns to me. “Why doesn’t that feel right?”
“I think a lot of things aren’t going to feel right.” Like how nice you’re being to me. “Once your memory returns, you’ll get everything sorted out.”
“But I’m not a big-city guy. I’m like a tropical island, pina colada kind of guy who uses a machete to clear a rainforest. Does that sound right?”
“Well, uh—”
“Tell me about this project we’re working on.”
Relieved he didn’t force me to answer the machete-rainforest-tropical-drink-with-an-umbrella question, I happily divert. “You’re building a world-class resort right here called the Summit at Mystic Meadows.”
He folds his arms. “And how are you involved?” There’s a noise in the back and Stone peeks between the seats. “Hercules,” he says in a gentle but firm voice, “don’t eat the seat.”
“It’s fine.” It’s the least I can do for ruining your life. “He’s not going to harm anything.”
Stone turns back around. “What were we talking about? Yes! I remember! Whew. Thank goodness I remember one thing. The resort. How are we working together?”
“I’m what’s called a magical land coordinator. My job is to make sure the project works alongside the magic in Mystic Meadows.”
“And is it? Is the project doing that?”
“Oh, look, we’re here. Right back at the trailer.”
“Yeah, where I got my memory knocked out. But that’s okay, I feel it coming back. Just gotta make sure I don’t bang my head on any more hard hats. Come on, Hercules. You ready to get out?”
I park the car and we exit, heading toward the building.
Stone takes two steps and stops. “Something’s wrong.”
Oh no, here it comes. He’s remembered and recalls how much he hates me and how he was going to blackmail me, and what’s worse is now he has even more blackmail material. Want me to tell the police you nearly killed me? I will build this resort however I damn well please.
He scans the site, brow furrowed, a dark shadow passing over his face. “Why isn’t anyone working? If this is a construction site, where is everyone?”
“Well, uh, that’s a good question . . .” As I flounder to tell him, an idea hits me. “Hey! Let’s go inside.”
“What? Why?”
“Because maybe if you look at the plans, it’ll trigger your memory. Help you recover some of it.”
He snaps his fingers. “Yes, that’s a great idea!”
Before I can stop him, he rushes over and scoops me up, lifting me into the sky. “You are brilliant!”
His arms are strong, and he raises me like I weigh no more than a sheet of paper. I look down at him as he gazes up at me, and there’s a beat—a stretched moment where my throat closes.
The warmth in his eyes. The heat of his touch. It all hits me hard, and I laugh, a small, startled sound, like someone who’s never been picked first finally being seen.
Stone laughs, too, and the sound makes my lungs squeeze.
“Sorry. Got carried away,” he explains, slowly lowering me to the ground. He stares down at me, and I find myself wanting to keep looking into his eyes. This strange man who I couldn’t stand yesterday is someone new today.
A man who doesn’t know who he is, I remind myself.
I clear my throat and step out of his arms. “It’s okay.”
“You know, I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Coco Higginbotham.”
“Higginbotham. That’s a mouthful.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s what you said when we first met.”
“See? I’m in here. Somewhere.” He winks playfully, and I nearly pass out from the utter and complete change in him. “Come on. Let’s take a look at these plans and see if they jog my memory.”
Stone taps the page. “Why would I design the resort like this? It makes no sense. It’s all flow but no essence.”
The blueprints are a series of lines with tiny writing. It’s like trying to read a foreign language. I cock my head to see if a different angle will help.
Nope. Doesn’t do a thing.
“Like right here.” He runs a finger across the map-sized sheet of paper. “The finishes are sleek, but there’s no personality. It’s cold, sterile. This isn’t something I did. This needs to be changed. Immediately. Where’s my phone?”
My body goes numb. His phone? Stone’s phone will have contacts. People who know him. People who will freak out about his amnesia.
Or they could help him remember.
I spot the phone on top of a filing cabinet. There’s a brief tug in my core. Give it to him? Don’t give it to him?
Coco, the imaginary angel sitting on my shoulder whispers, he needs to remember who he is.
“It’s right here.” I slide the phone from the surface and hold it like a peace offering. “Maybe you can get some answers.”
He scowls. Here it comes. The old Stone is back. It was good knowing you, New Stone. I nearly mutter to Hercules, Get ready to return to being hated.
Stone takes the device and pauses briefly.
My stomach curls into a giant pretzel. He’ll open his contacts. Call his brother. Discover I’m a horrible human being. The resort will be built. My town will be destroyed.
“I don’t remember the passcode,” he says after a beat.
“Maybe it’s your face.”
He shakes his head. “No. It would never be that simple. I need more security than a face or a thumbprint. Don’t ask me how I know that, but I do.”
“Well, see if any numbers come to mind.” Why am I signing my own death warrant?
Very slowly, Stone enters a series of numbers. The screen quivers. It instantly locks him out.
My pretzeled stomach unknots a tiny bit. “It’ll come to you. I’m sure it will.”
“Yeah,” he says uneasily. “I hope so.” Then he levels a lopsided grin at me that’s so warm it’s disorienting. “I can’t believe I signed off on this design. Whoever I need to talk to about changing it, I will.”
“Here’s a fun fact,” I say, smoothing a hand over the blueprints. “You’re the boss, so you don’t actually have to talk to anyone. You can do whatever you want.”
“That’s right.” Amazement laces his voice. “I am. I’m the boss. Maybe that’s why all the guys aren’t here—they also disagree with the plans and they’re on strike.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
He breezes past me, taking the blueprints with him.
“Where are you going?”
“To check out the building.”
“Right behind you.”
Hercules follows, kicking up his back legs with glee as we pick our way over the red clay–topped construction site.
Stone charges over the earth, striding so fast I can barely keep up. Gosh, but he is tall—and really built. And that’s just the start. He’s also got a broad chest, and thick, sandy hair. And those eyes— Okay, I’ve already talked about them. But today they’re all warmth and not molten anger.
He’s nice, this Stone.
I mean, you know, for right now. For someone who doesn’t know who he is, he’s nice.
He reaches the foundation and walks around the space, studying, nodding, shaking his head.
I keep a safe distance, ready to answer any and all questions. After a couple of minutes, he crosses back over to me with the rolled blueprints tucked under one arm.
“How could I do this?”
Curiosity piqued, I ask, “Do what?”
He points. “You see those lines over there? They run under the resort.”
My knees buckle, and my voice comes out hoarse when I ask. “What did you say?”
“They’re ley lines. Right?”
My nerve endings ignite. It feels like I’ve been stabbed with a thousand tiny needles in every sensitive spot on my body.
I nod absently.
His gaze tracks the ley lines. “I see where they’re coming in, under the foundation, but where they go out, they’re weak. Look, they’re headed straight for town. If I let construction stay this way, it’ll be detrimental. At least, I think so.” He turns to me. “Don’t you think?”
I nod again.
Holy shit.
The spell worked. Stone Maddox sees the ley lines and now he wants to help. He wants to change the building!
For once, someone sees what I do. He sees what needs to be done and he’s listening to me.
And then the worst thought possible takes root in my head: I’ll never let Stone return to who he was. Even if it kills me.