This Story Might Save Your Life(20)

He did. This someone, Luna, was a friend of a friend he’d met through a film mixer, and I’d be lying if I said his intentions were wholly altruistic. Luna had access to the Magic Castle—an uber-exclusive private club for magicians and their guests—and I’d been trying to finagle an invitation for ages. Magic, believe it or not, is a great equalizer for people with narcolepsy. When you subsist on naps, you’re always playing catch-up, always puzzling out what you’ve just missed. But in the game of illusions, there are no outliers. The puzzle is the entire point. What just happened? How’d they do that? Everyone’s playing catch-up together.

The four of us met on a Thursday night at the trick bookshelf in the castle lobby. Luna was petite and lovely, with dewy dark skin and short corkscrew hair, and I knew without any words having to pass that Benny liked what he saw.

“I’m Joy.” I extended a hand. “Thanks so much for getting us in.”

Luna’s smile was so pretty I had immediate teeth envy. “It’s all good. My cousin was happy to share his passes.”

“He’s a magician?” Benny asked. We were all dolled up for the strict dress code, and this was the first time I’d ever seen him in a suit and tie. He looked handsome.

“Sadly, yes.” She grinned. “Who wants to say the not-so-secret password?”

I raised both hands. Luna laughed and told me what to do.

I spoke to the owl, and the bookshelf slid open to the grand salon.

We had an hour to kill before our dinner reservations, so we got drinks and strolled through the different rooms. We watched Irma the ghost tickle the ivories, quizzed the fortune-telling owl, wandered the museum in the haunted basement. We didn’t have time for a show in the close-up gallery, but we saw some impressive card tricks by the roaming magicians.

“This is what your cousin does?” I asked Luna after one such magician changed an ace of spades to an eight of hearts in my tightly closed hand.

“Recreationally,” she said. “He’s actually a lawyer. We work at the same firm.”

“Abracadabra-ing money from people’s wallets,” Benny said.

I tapped my fingers to my forehead. “I know I have a joke for summons in here.”

“Must be haunting you,” Benny said.

I snorted and turned to Luna. “What kind of law do you practice?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “I saw marriages in half.”

“A lawyer with a good sense of humor,” I whispered to Xander a few minutes later as we climbed the stairs to the restaurant level. “Nicely done.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I think they could make a good pair.”

We had a cozy, low-lit four-top in the main dining room, and I took this seated opportunity to grill our new friend. By the time our appetizers arrived, we knew that Luna was born near Santa Cruz to a single mother. She completed her undergrad at UCLA, followed by her law degree at USC. She owned a home in the Hollywood Hills, which she presciently, luckily, purchased at the bottom of the market crash. She had no siblings, disliked exercise, and, judging by the amount of food she ordered, was blessed with a fast metabolism. She loved books but was lukewarm on live music.

“We can work on that,” I said.

Luna shook her head, amused. “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Only with lawyers,” I said. “Which brings me to my next—”

“Objection,” Benny said.

“I was just—”

“Badgering the witness.”

“Sorry.” I held up my hands and lolled my head back. “No further questions, your honor.”

Luna glanced back and forth between me and Benny with a one-sided smile.

“They’re insufferable, aren’t they?” Xander said, buttering his roll.

I smacked him on the arm. “We’re perfectly sufferable.”

We laughed through the rest of the meal. By the end of the night, I was ready to put a ring on it. “You have to ask her out again,” I said, pulling Benny aside after an astonishing show in the upstairs Palace of Mystery. “If only so we can come back here whenever we want.”

Benny shook his head. “You’re too much.”

“So you’ll do it?”

He adjusted his tie with a sly grin.

“You already did, didn’t you?”

He gave me the wink and the finger gun, and that was that.

Later, in bed, Xander said, “What was that all about tonight?”

I rolled to face him; hands clasped behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling, light skin dappled with mottled moonlight. “What was what all about?”

“All those questions. That whole act you and Benny were putting on.” His expression was inscrutable. “I probably should’ve asked this a while ago, but you and Benny … have you ever…?”

“Of course not,” I said quickly.

He lifted his head. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Have you ever thought about it?”

A part of me wanted to be truthful. It’s complicated, I wanted to say. Because yes, there was a moment. But that bird had flown, hadn’t it? And there was no use making Xander unnecessarily jealous. I opened my mouth to deny, deny, deny, but it was already too late. I’d hesitated for too long.