Page 37 of Broken Princess
“I hope so.”
A clear masculine voice finally emanated from the speakers. “Thanks. This looks great.”
Rowan’s mouth twisted as he listened. “He sounds familiar,” he muttered. “But I can’t figure out why.”
“Yeah, it’s the same for me,” I said, tapping my chin with an index finger. “I know that voice. I just don’t know how or why. I need to hear him talk again.”
We waited another ten minutes, hoping the man would speak up again. Unfortunately, he seemed to be dining alone, so there was no clear conversation at his table.
“Excuse me? Can I get another glass?” he finally said, presumably addressing a passing waiter.
My eyes widened, and I sat up straight. “Holy fuck. It’s Jamie Torrance.”
“You’re right,” Rowan said, forehead creasing. “No wonder he sounds so familiar.”
A wave of anger washed over me. “He was talking to Willow at the Christmas party. She trusted him. So did I.”
“Really?” Rowan’s nose wrinkled. “Why?”
“Long story short: she thought he might know something about the Order, and she thought he might be able to help us.” I sighed and leaned forward, putting my head in my hands. “I should’ve fucking known. He was way too nice to her.”
“Nice? No way. Jamie Torrance is a total sleaze.”
“You think so?”
Rowan nodded. “Yeah. He’s always looked at Willow like she’s some sort of prey,” he said. “I’ve seen him doing it at every single party or event we’ve attended over the last few years.”
“Really? I never noticed.”
“Trust me, it’s true. Whenever I looked at Willow, he’d be right there in the background, creepily staring at her. Every single time.”
I raised a brow. “You know, for someone who claims to only see Willow as a friend, you sure do spend a lot of time observing her and everyone around her.”
“I—”
I held up a palm and cut him off. “Don’t worry, man, I’m just kidding.”
“Oh. Right.” Rowan’s face flushed, and he swallowed audibly. “Can I… can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“I wasn’t lying earlier. I’m honestly not interested in Willow at all. It’s just… I’ve always had trouble with… um…”
“With what?” I asked.
“Social stuff, I guess,” he said, scratching at his cheek. “It doesn’t come naturally to me. I just don’t get it. So I look at popular people and watch their body language. People like Willow. Then I try to copy their behavior.”
“Oh. Right.”
“I think it helps me a bit,” he went on. “I mean, I know I still seem awkward most of the time, but if I didn’t do it at all, I’d probably just sit in the corner staring at the floor.”
I stared at him, brows knitted. “Jesus, man,” I said. “I had no idea you went through shit like that. I’m sorry.”
He gave me a half-hearted shrug. “It’s not your fault. I’m just weird,” he mumbled.
“No, really. I’m sorry. I’ve always been such a fucking dick to you,” I said. “Willow is lucky to have a friend like you. I don’t think I’d even be able to find her without you.”
“Oh. Well… thanks.”
