Page 75 of The Curse of Indy Moore
Why did I say that?
It’s not technically wrong. We were partners in the sense that we’re colleagues, but Poppy took it the other way, and now Mr. Hawthorne was going to correct andhumiliate—
Mr. Hawthorne’s arm draped over my shoulders. He held me closer and set his head to the side to gently knock against my own. My entire body went obscenely hot. Earlier couldn’t compare to this moment when my mind shattered.
“Yes, I’ve been showing…” He caught himself before calling me Miss Moore. “My partner around town after she agreed to come to the city with me. I’m sorry, though, she has never mentioned you.”
My heart threatened to give out at any moment. He was too warm, too close.
“Poppy Harolds.” Poppy released her partner to give a short curtsy. “It is a pleasure to meet you…?”
“Mr. Rooke Hawthorne,” Poppy’s partner replied while removing her hat. She held out a hand for Mr. Hawthorne to shake. The two of them shared a knowing smile. “It has been so long. Since the LAA test, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, Ms. Rachelle Welsh, correct? We attended Trinity Schoolhouse together, too,” he replied.
Rachelle stood taller, her smile more proud than gleeful. “We did, though I was a year above you.” Rachelle turned her attention to Poppy. She explained, “This is the artificer I told you about. Thanks to him, artificers like me are getting a better rep.”
He gave a pleasant laugh. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, although I am performing to the best of my abilities in hopes of tipping the scales, so to speak.”
“How incredible,” said Poppy, her eyes taking on a curious hue that typically meant she would spout off a thousand questions. However, Rachelle beat her to it.
“You do not give yourself the credit. Forgive me for gossiping, but I heard you’ve received an invitation to the Moonlit Ball yet again this year. That’s unheard of for those coming from Trinity Schoolhouse.” Rachelle certainly meant her compliments, though her eyes took on a darker hue, somber.
Mr. Hawthorne’s did as well. “Yes, I’m honored to have been invited once more. The two of us have been, actually.”
He gave my arm a playful squeeze, where his fingers gently rubbed my goosebump-covered skin. I needed him to stop, and I wanted more.
“We’ll have to put on a proper show for the noble houses with a dance, don’t you agree?” Mr. Hawthorne smiled at me, and I nodded because that’s all I could manage.
“And drink enough for all of us.” Rachelle tipped her hat while putting it back on. “Is it also true that you are working toward opening another school? Trinity Schoolhouse did wonders for me, but I know many young artificers still cannot attend.”
“I fear I cannot share many details concerning my ventures. However, I am hopeful to share very good news soon.”
Rachelle released a satisfied laugh, like someone lifted the greatest weight from her shoulders. “That is wonderful to hear. I’ll keep my ears open for this good news and, should you ever need help with anything, feel free to ask. I only wish I could do more.”
“Any help is appreciated.” Mr. Hawthorne rubbed my arm, but he suddenly stopped, his wide eyes on me, like he hadn’t realized his own motions. Ever the actor, he recovered by offering an affable smile. “While I am remiss to cut our conversation so short, we must head off. Good day to the both of you.”
“And you.” Rachelle offered her hand to shake.
Poppy looked dejected, but forced a smile while taking Rachelle's arm. “It was nice seeing you again, Indy,” she said.
“You too,” I muttered. Then Mr. Hawthorne guided us to the door.
Though he released me, his touch lingered, as if he had left a piece of him to take root in the garden I swore wouldn’t grow for him.
The door shut, and I stepped further into the interior, where every surface was painted black, though enchanted to look like the night sky. We walked through the heavens themselves. Silver tables sat about the room beneath chandeliers that bled starlight. The food had been made to resemble the night, too, galaxy-colored and star-shaped. I would have appreciated the beauty more had I not been so focused on Mr. Hawthorne. He laid a gentle hand on the small of my back, encouraging further warmth that didn’t relent even as we took our seats. There, I waited for the inevitable.
“Partners. I was not informed of the sudden advancement of our relationship.” He sat an elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, eyes half-mast and dark, daring even. What that dare may be, I did not risk questioning or acting upon.
“I didn’t mean partners in a romantic capacity. We are partners, work partners, but they… You played along,” I argued. A server handed us menus. I reached for mine that he snatched away and read over, not bothering to hide his impish grin.
“Did you want me to correct you?”
“No, but you have no right to tease me.”
“I have every right as I did an excellent job playing your boyfriend.”
That shouldn’t have made me blush. His cheeks shouldn’t have taken on a tint of pink either.
