Page 15 of A Bouquet of Dreams

“Yeah. My agent suggested it.”

He had anagent? Claire had to swallow a smile as this thought ran through her head:He has an agent who booked him gigs likethisone? Sad!

Reading her mind (something he’d always been good at), he said, “My agent’s brother-in-law runs these customer service conferences. He customizes them for specific industries. Tonight’s was flowers. Tomorrow night, I’ll be in Charleston at a grocery clerk rehab conference.” He shrugged. “Steady work.Attentive audiences. Interesting travel. Good money. Can’t complain.”

“And better than jail.” That was snarky.

Chris ignored her. He leaned his elbows on the desk, clasping his hands together. “So have you been in Savannah for the last seven years?”

She nodded.

“I’ve looked everywhere for you. I even contacted your dad.”

Did he? Her dad had never told her. “He knew not to let you know where I was.”

“He told me you were safe and you were happy.”

Good for Dad.

“Areyou happy, Claire?”

She took in a sharp breath. She hadn’t expectedthat. Not from Chris. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer him. What business was it of his, anyway? He’d lost the right to know anything years ago. “Why should it matter?” she said, tapping her fingers on her knees in a poor facsimile of nonchalance.

His eyes, beneath his fake gray eyebrows, grew soft and tender. “It matters to me if you’re happy. It’s always mattered.”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not again. He had certainly fooled her once, but she wasn’t nearly as trusting or naive as she’d been when she was seventeen. Not anymore. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, growing impatient. “If that’s what you came to say, then you said it. Feel free to leave and let Barney Fife back in.”

Chris leaned back, as if to convey that he was doing the questioning here. “I can press charges, you know. Assault and battery. Disturbing the peace. Disorderly conduct.”

She slapped her hands on her knees. “Donut holes!”

“Beignets. And they were stale. They hurt! And I have plenty of witnesses out there to corroborate the facts.”

“Then just go ahead and press charges. Let someone else take the blame, like you always do.”

He gave her a sharp look. A long moment passed before he said in a quiet voice, “Things aren’t always the way they seem.”

She coughed a laugh. “Says the magician.”

“I can say it because Iama magician. That’s what I love best about magic. It can shock people into realizing there’s more going on than they know.”

“Unless you know the magician’s tricks. Then you’re only disappointed.”

“So the end of my show disappointed you?”

“What? The come-to-Jesus moment? Was that the spiel you used to buy a ‘get out of jail free’ card?”

“It’s not a spiel.” He spoke firmly. “I use my performances to share my faith.”

Right. She wasn’t buying it. She’d always known him to be the kind of guy who could talk the spots right off a leopard. “I’ll bet you change each show to suit your audience.” He probably had magic tricks for every belief system. He wasthatclever.Thatshrewd.Thatmuch of a chameleon.

He took in a deep breath and let it out. “Claire, you think the only view is your view. But there are other ways of seeing things. Maybe what you see isn’t the whole story.”

“I know what I saw seven years ago at Rose’s.”

He lifted his chin and looked her straight in the eyes. “Youthinkyou know.”

She stared back at him.

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