I met Liam at Skeins, a German place I’d used for all my third dates. The remarkable thing about Skeins was the head chef. He was an absolute asshole. I’d never seen the same waiter there twice, which meant they never saw me coming. There’s a bar on the top floor of the building where I’d tried to kill my liver more nights than I wanted to remember. Also, Skeins had a wide balcony perfect for making men want to jump.
I walked past the host, and caught myself at the edge of the dining room. Liam sat at a table alone, dressed in a suit that was obviously a hand-me-down from an age when people considered polyester fine cloth.
Minutes passed, and still I stood, hidden in the doorway, watching. When the cell phone in my purse went off I nearly threw it out the window. I didn’t carry a cell phone except when I was working princes, and tonight would be the last time I’d use that one. No one else had the number.
I flipped it open and answered. “Hello?”
“M.” I recognized Evangeline’s voice.
I wondered how on earth she got the number. Then again, I worked for a being who valued knowledge above even magic. “What do you want? I’m kind of busy.”
“Grimm says you aren’t. Said you’re having problems with this one. You need help?”
The way she said “help” reeked of “You want me to come bail you out again?” I spent the first two years learning from Evangeline. Now I worked every day to prove to her and everyone else that I could hold my own.
“I don’t need you or anyone else. I’ll get this done. Tell Grimm he’ll be ready for the princess tomorrow.” A lump formed in my throat as I spoke those words, a cold knot like I’d swallowed an iceberg.
“You have to do this, M, and do it right.”
I knew that. We had a deal, Grimm and I. Grimm and my parents, Grimm and my sister. I thought of her. Last time I’d seen her she was two years old, pulling a wagon around and eating a Popsicle she said tasted “purple.” I’d never asked Grimm what would happen to Hope if I didn’t keep my end of the deal. I paid my debts.
I hung up the phone and walked into the dining room, careful to fix my face into the right expression of disgust.
“Evening,” Liam stood up as I walked in, and he took my jacket.
I stepped away from the offered hug and gave him my most dismissive look as I sat down.
Liam reached across the table to take my hand. “I ordered the scallions for you. You said you always wanted to try them. Since we’re eating on my dime, I thought you might want to try something special.”
I carefully moved my hand away, keeping my eyes fixed on him, and flagged down the waiter. “I’m allergic to scallions,” I told the waiter. “Just bring me veal.” I’m not certain they actually had veal, but given my tone, the waiter wasn’t going to argue.
“I’m sorry,” said Liam. “I didn’t know about that.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” The food came out and we ate in silence. Liam would comment or ask questions, and I’d nod or answer in monosyllables, like every other time I’d done this. When dinner was done, and the band started to play, I knew it was time.
“I can tell something is bothering you,” Liam said. His forehead was creased and he had barely touched his meal.
“Really?” I asked, my tone shrill. “You think you can tell what is going on with me?”
He recoiled. I knew he was realizing that something was going truly wrong. Really, it was the click of the trap. His lips moved as he tried to come up with a comforting response, but all that came out was, “Yes, I thought so.” He leaned across the table to put his hand on my shoulder and I shrugged him off, looking at his hand the same way I would a dead rat.
“Look,” I scooted my chair slightly away from him. “I’m not certain what you think is going on between us.”
His eyes went wide and a confused look passed across his face. I knew I’d hit the mark. He began to rub his fingers together and if he bit his lip any harder he’d draw blood. I was going to draw blood anyway.
“I might have sent some mixed signals.”
The cracks in his face opened wider. Any minute now he’d start trying to fix things. He put his hand to his temple. “I’m sorry. I thought, I mean, I thought maybe you—”
I went for the kill, letting my voice rise to where the neighboring diners began to stare. “You thought maybe I liked you? Because I let you take me on a merry-go-round? Because you took me to the nastiest Italian restaurant in the entire city? Because you dragged me to some burned- out playground in a slum? What part of that says ‘romantic’ to you?” Every word cut my own heart. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It wasn’t supposed to feel like anything.
“Carousels and swings are for children, Liam. I’m an adult, and I thought perhaps you were one too. Obviously I was mistaken.”
His face looked hollow, his eyes didn’t focus, and the edges of them shone. “I must have been mistaken too.”
I swiped the check from the table and took my jacket. “Don’t bother with the check, and don’t bother calling.” I marched out of the room, and on the way I gave him one last look. I wasn’t supposed to. It wasn’t in the script, because it sent the wrong message. I looked back anyway, hoping that he was on his feet and coming after me. The others never came after me, but for one split-second I harbored a hope he would. I remember him sitting at the table with a half bottle of wine. I remember the band playing and couples dancing near the stage. I remember the magic flowing off of him as he cried, or maybe that was just my tears.
I RENTED A room for Goldy Locks, barricaded myself inside, and wept before the mirror until my makeup ran in rivulets down my cheeks. I turned on the faucet and the shower and left them running. Soon the mirror was covered in fog. Then I called him.
“It’s done,” I said. I couldn’t keep my chin from trembling, and I’m sure my voice did too.
He looked like an impressionist painting through the steam. “I’m sorry.”
“Why did you do it?”
“A prince and princess belong together. It is the way of things.”
Anger rushed through me, shielding me for a moment from the grief. I straightened up and glared at him. “I’m not the first girl sold for Glitter. Most of them wind up as handmaidens to a princess, or shopkeepers, or newspaper interns. Why did you make me an agent?”
“Because, my dear, anything else would have been a waste. You are talented beyond most I have met, and bright, and strong. You would not have been happy in those other lives.”
My shield of anger cracked and my hands shook. “I’m not happy here either. Don’t I deserve happiness?” I hoped he couldn’t hear me almost sobbing over the sounds of the water.
He grayed out a little and came back into focus. “You do, my dear, you do.”
My chest hurt with each breath. I stuck my hand into the scalding water, and held it there until the pain from it matched what I felt inside. “I don’t want Ari to have him. I want him for me.”
He didn’t answer.
“But I’m not a princess,” I said, knowing the cold truth of it.
“I will have Evangeline handle the rest, Marissa. You do deserve to be happy, and you aren’t a princess, but that’s never made you less important in my eyes.”
“Tell Evangeline I’m not coming to meet her. And remember I keep my end of the bargain, Grimm. Always.”
He left me there in the bathroom, at last and always alone.
My purse beeped, and I dumped it out to find the cell phone and a stack of forty-nine brand-new business cards with its number. They came in lots of fifty. I never needed more than one. I missed four calls since dinner, all from Liam.