Page 29 of City of Love

A blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel with a black eye and a nasty cut on her lip, Margot Gillette wore a hospital gown matching Lexi’s own. Margot had been walking the hallways while waiting for the x-rays of her face to come back when she spotted Lexi in a room and let herself in. She’d introduced herself and then held Lexi’s hand as she joked and laughed until a smile finally appeared on Lexi’s face. Even after Margot was discharged a few hours later, she had remained at the hospital by Lexi’s side for the better part of twenty-four hours, keeping her calm and on an emotionally even keel until Lexi, too, was released.

And the two women had been sailing along together ever since.

It turned out that Margot, who’d been attending Wharton Business School on the Penn campus at the time, had been assaulted by the CEO of the brokerage firm where she’d been interning. It was merely the last in a long history of similar incidents in Margot’s life, and the reason she’d ended up in the hospital that day.

Margot was brilliant and highly educated, having put herself through college on scholarships and part-time jobs. But whether in school or at work, the men surrounding her could never get past the blonde hair or the blue eyes or the big boobs or the bright smile. No matter how conservatively she dressed or how serious an expression she wore, they were unwilling to look beyond the cover and actually read the book. Each time she inevitably turned down their advances, their wounded egos led to something ugly. Though usually it just meant she was fired on some trumped-up charge.

This time, though, it had been different. The CEO had hurt her in almost every way possible. When he’d hit her, she’d actually had the gall to report it to the police and take herself to the hospital for a checkup. But this powerful man had a huge reputation to protect, and his response was to throw her under the bus and back that bus over her repeatedly.

She’d finished her business degree with the highest marks, but his smear campaign kept her from getting so much as a corporate mailroom job from Washington D.C. to New York City. Eventually, partly out of anger, resentment, and a need to pay the bills, and partly pure self-fulfilling prophecy, Margot made a career turning that male interest into an asset. If her curvy figure and a low-cut blouse got their initial attention and an agreement to meet for drinks, so be it. Five minutes into their first martini, they realized it was her brilliant business mind they really wanted to spend time with.

Ironically, she was finally in control, in demand, and in the money, finding investors to back her start-ups, marketing whatever was new and lucrative, then selling and moving on—from the businesses and the men.

Lexi’s mother called her a grifter. Lexi thought that was overstating it. Margot never crossed a moral line; she merely used all the resources God gave her—brains and bod. Lexi was the only person in Margot’s life who didn’t give her a rash of shit for her less than conservative business style. The only one who understood the reasons behind it. Likewise, Margot was always there with a funny remark or awesome cover story to smooth an awkward moment whenever Lexi blacked out and fell off a chair, or suddenly seemed to go catatonic at a social event.

And Margot was there with cash in hand to help out whenever Lexi inevitably lost the next job. She’d ride to the rescue with a wad of cash and her favorite battle cry, “With God as my witness, we’ll never go hungry again!” Though Lexi knew there was far more fear than humor behind the words.

“I’ll be back in a flash with your drinks, and your food will be up shortly.” The waitress gave them a wink and dashed off.

“So, Lexi, I’ve wanted to ask you about Vikkras and Alana the other night.” Matthew fidgeted with the salt shaker, glancing back and forth between Lexi’s face and the little pile he’d poured on the table and now drew lines in. “You were with them when it happened, right?”

“Sort of. I’d gone into a shop ahead of them, so I didn’t actually witness them disappear. I didn’t know they ended up in our world until much later.”

He swept his little salt painting onto the floor with an agitated brush of his hand. “So, you didn’t see anything unusual?”

She shrugged with a giggle. “Everything there was unusual, Matthew.”

“I know, but did—” He scowled as the waitress returned, interrupting him to set down their drinks before hustling back off.

“Will the portal even be open this weekend after what happened last week?” Lexi asked when they were alone again. She knew a little more than she let on because of her conversations with Gideon, but she wasn’t ready to tell anyone about the fact that she’d been “talking” to him across worlds. Part of her still wondered if she was going to wake up soon in a padded cell.

“I haven’t heard otherwise yet,” he said, his hand reaching for the salt again before Margot swiped it and moved it out of his reach. “Gideon was over here the other day talking to me about it, trying to find any clue as to what might have happened, but it’s a total mystery.”

“Wait. Gideon was here?” Lexi asked.

He nodded. “For a short bit. He asked me a bunch of questions, looked around my club and checked outside briefly. I’m not sure what he thought he would find.”

Lexi plucked a piece of bread from the basket on the table, tearing it into small pieces on the tiny plate in front of her. Gideon could easily cross over, but hadn’t bothered to contact her while he was right here in her world.

“Hey,” Margot reached across the table and tapped her on the hand. “I see that brain starting to spin out of control. Don’t read anything into his quick visit.”

Matt looked back and forth between the two women, his brow furrowed in confusion, and then the light bulb went on. “Oh yeah, his visits here are always really short. It’s hard for him to spend any real time in our world. His people don’t automatically fade back to their world four hours after using the portal to cross over like we do. Our world has a much stronger pull or something. They have to use the music to go home. But they can’t stay here indefinitely either.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, putting the bread down and brushing her hands of crumbs.

“People of his world have heightened senses, and it’s uncomfortable for them to be here. We’re more polluted here in every way; lights, noise, smells, crowds. They have a tough time with the onslaught of sensation. It’s worse the older they get, too.” Matt snorted. “Let’s just say Gideon isn’t exactly young.”

A reference to his age again. Exactly how old were they talking here?

“His senses get blasted to the point of pain.” A grin spread on Matt’s face. “Yesterday as he stepped back inside Shots from his little walk outside, a fire truck went by with its siren blaring and the sound nearly brought him to his knees. He grabbed a table to keep from going down, which brought a few odd looks and a couple cheers from the lunch patrons.”

Margot glared at him. “Why are you smiling at that story? It’s kind of sad.”

“Pff. Sad my ass. That dude is so fucking strong in his world. As a guy, it’s good for my ego to know the playing field is slightly more level when he’s on my turf. It’s not just the discomfort of their senses, by the way. They’re a lot more sluggish here. Just like we get a rush of energy in their world, over here they feel like they’re moving through molasses, and their powers are much weaker.” He turned to Margot and lifted his chest. “Let me at least pretend I could take him in a fight here. Most likely not, but don’t rob me of my fantasy.”

As Margot pronounced him a stud and leaned in to give him a kiss, Lexi averted her eyes and took another sip of her drink.

If Gideon couldn’t spend much time in her world, and she only four hours a pop in his, what would that mean for any kind of relationship? And why is the word “relationship” even in this debate?

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