Sam hasn’t moved from the door and I point to a table against the wall. He joins me after a slight hesitation.
“You left without saying goodbye.” He speaks even before he sits down. “You blocked my number. I didn’t know where you were, if you were safe.”
A little glow lights deep down. Sam was worried about me. He cared, even though he thought I sold them out.
“How did you know I was here?” The flowered plate clinks as I set it on the table. I’m too nervous to eat now.
“I checked your apartment and your mom’s place. This was where Mikey took the photo so I thought it was worth a shot.”
The glow expands at the work he put into finding me. “I sent an email to Fangli.”
“Fangli is not me. Why did you leave?”
“ZZTV knows what I was doing.” I adjust my hat, thankful I wore it instead of walking out the door with my bedhead on full display. At least I put on lipstick.
“We know.” He looks straight at me. “We’ve taken care of it.”
“I overheard you and Fangli,” I say. “You think I was the one to leak to the reporters.”
He looks astonished. “I never said such a thing.”
“Really? You’re such a fucking actor.” I poke viciously at the scone. “You never thought I was in it for the money? You never pointed out that I was doing it because I lost my job?”
“That was before I knew you.” He hasn’t stopped looking at me. “Gracie, I promise I trusted you. I know you wouldn’t have done such a thing.”
That glow roars back, heating me from my bones.
“I came to find you to help smooth things over with Fangli. Your letter hurt her.”
Fangli. Fangli again. The glow disappears under a wave of sheer disappointment. I thought he was here for me, finally, but even now, he’s her friend before my…whatever we were. I want him to care about me with the same openness. I won’t cry but the restrained tears knot up in my throat and make it hard to breathe.
Click. Click-click-click. We look up, startled. The flashes come through the window thanks to the photographer, Mikey, resplendent in his trench coat.
Sam swears under his breath but rallies lightning fast to slip into his part. He smiles at me, that same look he gave me at every gala and event, the practiced easy smile of a leading man. Enough of my Fangli training comes through that now I can at least stay seated instead of hiding under the table, but there’s no way I can look happy. Not right now.
Cheri comes over, scowling. “This dude again?” She stands in the window, arms akimbo and calls over her shoulder. “Out the back. Same as before.”
“Gracie, listen,” Sam says. “We need you to come back.”
We. Not him. Always for Fangli. I thought he wanted me, but the truth is bare in front of me. He admitted he tried hard to find me but it was to get me to be her double again. I can’t even be envious that she holds such a place in his heart. The bells on the door jangle and I abandon my scone to head for the back door. I glance behind me to see Sam and Cheri acting as if to prevent the photographer from following me.
“Sorry,” I say.
Then I’m out the door and alone in the alley.
Cheri’s is where this whole mess began. It’s fitting that it ends there.
Thirty-Six
I wander over to the fridge and open it to reveal a collection of condiments and no food. I don’t want to eat, anyway; I’m only looking for a way to distract myself.
It’s been three days since I saw Sam. True to her word to keep me informed, Anjali sent me Mikey’s photo from some stupid gossip rag, and the way it’s framed makes Sam appear in full bodyguard hero mode protecting Fangli. “Fangli’s hat looks familiar,” Anjali wrote.
It looks like I can be pulled back into being Fangli even when I try to avoid it. I tuck my hands behind my head. What would a moral Gracie have done in the first place? She would have said no to Fangli, even for the money. She would have squashed that little fame worm in her mind and told it we’d find our own way. Todd…I acted as best as I could have there, and I won’t blame myself for his actions.
Then what does a moral and slightly more daring Gracie do now? I look at my laptop, where despite Anjali’s nagging, Eppy has sat neglected for most of the week. That Gracie follows her dreams and listens to her gut.
The phone rings and my heart leaps before I remember I blocked Sam. It’s an unknown number but I have to answer. It might be a response to one of my job applications and I need one now, badly. I pick up.