Banks is brisk. “Hello.”
“Yo,” Gabe says, peering into the phone, so only his eye is visible on the screen. “What’s good?”
Tobias gives me a withering look. “I hereby call an emergency Tram Fam meeting. Elise’s apartment has been trashed and she won’t even let me hold her like a baby.”
“What?” Banks has stopped in his tracks. “Trashed by who? Let me see her.”
Tobias shifts the phone, but I can’t look Banks in the eye. He’s going to know I’ve been withholding something from him, even after he asked me about the story. I assured him I was clear of the situation, so he’s going to feel that betrayal deeper than the other two. “I’m fine,” I say, suddenly feeling a very urgent, almost shocking need to be surrounded by all three of them. The need is so crucial, a shudder winds through me.
Still connected to the FaceTime, Tobias stomps over and draws me up against his chest. “We’re going to call the police and then—”
“Bring her to my place,” Gabe interrupts. It’s not until he growls this directive that I realize his face has been leached of color. “Meet here. I want her here.”
“Queens?” Tobias wrinkles his nose. “Is there even a decent sashimi place near you?”
I elbow him in the ribs.
“Call the police from down the street. Somewhere public. In case they come back.” Banks is speed walking now, getting into his car and firing up the engine. “Jesus Christ. That’s burglary 101, Tobias.”
“Elise is safe.” He tightens his hold on me, looking very dramatic. “I’m with her.”
That earns a classic Banks eyeroll. “They could have weapons. You don’t. And before you ask, no, you can’t swing your dick at the bad guys.”
Tobias snorts. “Lucky for them.”
I watch as a realization dawns on Banks’s face. “Elise, please tell me this has nothing to do with the story you were chasing.”
“I…” I shake my head. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Story.” Tobias’s face loses some of its color. “I thought that was over.”
All I can do is focus on breathing. Staying calm.
“Are you bringing her here or do I have to come and get her?” Gabe says, looking properly intimidating, a line of muscle flexing in his jaw. “Elise, I’m sorry this happened. We’ve got you.”
I give Tobias and Banks a pointed look. “Thank you, my sweet Gabe.”
“He’s the favorite,” Tobias mutters. “Anyone can see it.”
Gabe grins.
“Out of the apartment,” Banks near-shouts, his engine gunning in the background. “Now. I’ll meet you all at Gabe’s.” He pauses. “Elise can fill us in when we get there.”
Chapter Nineteen
Banks
* * *
Somehow, Tobias, Elise and I arrive at Gabe’s at the exact same time.
We pull into spots at the curb, parallel to each other, trading stunned glances through the passenger window of Tobias’s Audi. But I shouldn’t be surprised at this stage, should I? Everything that has happened from the moment I stepped onto the Roosevelt Island tram has felt…different, but oddly exact. Like I left my old skin behind on that island and stepped into a new one. If I wasn’t such a pragmatic man, I could swear the hand of fate is pressing on my back, guiding me from moment to moment with Elise, Tobias, Gabe.
Of course we are arriving at the same time.
For the same woman.
I devour the sight of her through the glass, nearly ripping the hinges clean off my car in order to get out. You’re going to overwhelm her. Slow down.
It’s not easy to temper myself, however. I saw her speaking to my mother at the stadium. I don’t know how it happened. Nor do I understand how she knew to encourage me to leave the ticket one more time. Or the circumstances of their meeting. But I am positive Elise encouraged my mother to walk into the stands and sit down. Her very first game of mine—ever. For that,
Elise will never fully understand the depth of my gratitude. I don’t think she has a single clue that there is magic surrounding her. She weaves it everywhere she goes. Tobias is a different man since meeting her. More humble, empathetic. Gabe doesn’t stare at the ground anymore. He looks us in the eye. And now, she’s helped bridge a gap between me and my mother. The meeting between the four of us is starting to feel less like happenstance and more like fate. Some inevitable providence that none of us saw coming.