Page 41 of Save Me

My heart skips a beat. At the same time, I’m giving myself a pat on the back. Seems like my just-keep-your-head-down strategy is working perfectly. “I have the ability to glide through corridors like a shadow and blend in with the walls.”

His lips twitch slightly. “Sounds like you’re the Maxton Hall ghost. Or a chameleon. But anyway, your turn.”

“For what?” I look confusedly at him.

“To tell me something about you that nobody else knows.”

“I just did!”

He shakes his head. “That doesn’t count. You only replied to what I told you.”

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, thinking about what I can tell him. His eyes are alert as they watch me, which doesn’t make it any easier. On the contrary.

I shake my head in resignation. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“I don’t believe you.” He leans back, crosses his arms over his chest. “Come on. You have to do more than just study.”

Oh, no, I don’t,I think. But luckily, something comes to mind. “I read manga.”

James looks at me like he misheard for a second. Then he smiles. “There, that’s something. I wouldn’t exactly call it a dark secret, but OK. What’s your favorite?”

I’m confused. I didn’t expect him to ask questions.

“Death Note,” I say hesitantly.

“Would you recommend it?”

I have no idea how we got from “James breaks beds during sex” to “Ruby’s favorite manga.” Not a clue. But I nod slowly. “If you ask me, readingDeath Noteis an important part of anyone’s basic education.”

James looks startled. “It would be terrible to be lacking that, then.”

My lips twitch involuntarily too.

I can’t help grinning.

James Beaufort made me grin.

As I realize that, I turn hastily away and look out of the window, but I’m pretty sure he saw it. There was a clear flash of triumph in his eyes.

I wonder why.

13

Ruby

BEAUFORT’S

James’s surname is emblazoned across the front of the flagship store. He gets out of the car and strides purposefully toward the entrance while I stop and stare wide-eyed, first at the sign and then at the huge modern building with—as James told me on the drive here—the largest branch of Beaufort’s below, while above that are the offices for the design, sales, and customer services departments and so on, plus, of course, the tailoring workshops. Huge plate-glass windows span all six floors, behind which stand mannequins dressed in the brand’s famous classic style.

“Coming?” James calls to me from the door.

We spent the rest of the journey chatting. Not much but more than I’d been expecting. I still can’t shake off the feeling that this is all a dream.

I’m in London. WithJames Beaufort.

I just can’t believe it.

“Ruby!” James says again, glancing ostentatiously at his watch.

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