Page 46 of The Fixer and the Fugitive

“Yes, but who is? I feel like if she’d been alive during the forties, we would have won the war in the thirties.”

“That makes no sense,” Celeste said, drawing in a sharp breath when he pressed his lips to her neck.

“I’m tired and you’re befuddling me with your good smells and such,” he said. “What are the chances we could compel Esther to cook supper for us?”

“Better than the chances of compelling me,” Celeste said. Her idea of cooking from scratch was using a manual can opener.

“You could learn,” Sam said, pulling back to give her a sincere look. Or maybe it wasn’t sincere. Maybe chocolate brown eyes gave the illusion of making everything seem sincere. But the softness in his expression wasn’t her imagination. And when he gave her a little squeeze and kissed the tip of her nose, she melted a little. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m trying to decide if I should wait to kiss you until I hear Esther’s verdict about whether or not I have to kill you,” she said.

“Always kiss first, kill later,” he said.

“That’s coincidentally the same thing my drill instructor said,” she whispered, brushing her lips against his.

Leo’s step in the next room alerted them to his imminent return. By the time he entered, they were a respectable distance apart.

“Celeste and I were just talking about when you guys used to date,” Sam said.

Leo laughed. “Trying the sneak attack, huh? Can’t say that I blame you, but Celeste and I never dated. Not for lack of trying on my part. I asked you out three, maybe four times?”

“Something like that,” Celeste said, unconcerned.

“You really never went out?” Sam said.

“She always said no,” Leo said.

“In your defense, Leo, I said no to everyone.”

“I know. That’s why you were the white whale, the golden goose. The unobtainable and pristine Celeste.” He pressed his hands prayerfully together and gave her a little bow.

“I’m glad to see I created mystique and not resentment,” Celeste said. “I never wanted to earn the reputation of being cold or aloof. I just wanted to do my job.”

“What job was that again?” Sam asked.

“No one who knew you ever thought you were cold,” Leo assured her, ignoring Sam. “Just too good for us losers, in all the ways.”

“You’re nice,” Celeste declared. She’d always liked Leo. He never took her refusals personally, never turned on her and badmouthed her when she turned him down. He’d remained a pal. Truthfully, she had been a bit tempted by him for that very reason, because he’d been kind and good. But she’d held off, partially because of the rangy, unsettled feeling he always gave off. It was gone now, in the wake of Esther.

“You seem so happy, Leo,” she added.

“I am happy, Celeste. So happy.” Unbidden, his eyes flitted toward the stairs and Esther. “But it’s more than happiness, you know? It’s like all those broken little pieces are knitting themselves back together.” He wove his hands into a knot and held them aloft.

“I’m glad. Congratulations. Are you going to make it official? Put a ring on it?” Celeste asked.

“I’m going to make it official, but there will be no ring. Esther’s religion forbids it. We’re engaged though, it’s happening.”

“Not to backpedal on the happiness, but you sound a tad defensive,” Sam noted.

“Sorry,” Leo said, relaxing his tense posture. “Esther’s from a big, connected, protective family. I love them, Ido. But it’s hard, you know? To go from being completely alone to that. They have ideas about things, about everything—when we should marry, where we should live. Esther’s ready to run away and change our identities, but I’m trying to stall her, to see if we can come to some sort of workable solution.”

“You don’t want to start life with a new family as the bad guy,” Celeste guessed.

“Exactly,” Leo said, nodding in relief that she understood.

“Plus take it from me: running away and changing your identity isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Sam added.

“To staying put,” Leo said, holding his glass of water aloft.

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