“How dare you show up here?”
“I’ve had enough of this.”
She’s rubbing the area I’d been touching. Her nipples are hard.
“Jesus, do you ever wear a bra?” The words come out without thinking.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before.” She crosses her arms over her chest and lifts her heart-shaped face even higher.
I growl. My nostrils are flaring. I cross my arms and mirror her stance.
“Plus, it’s easier in my… career to not worry about under… type things…” She’s very red now.
“Yeah, about this career of yours.”
She brushes her hair back, leaves her arms hanging loosely, and then thinks better of it and crosses them again. I feel a twinge of guilt at making her feel self-conscious. One thing I’ve noticed about Maggie from the very beginning is her freeness of being. I hate that I made her think that I’m judging her in any way.
“Listen.” I soften my voice. “Things are getting worse and I need your help before it’s too late.”
“Worse?” her arms fall again.
I explain to her about my mom’s call.
“Look you’ve promised to help me. All we’ve done so far is get you closer to Zebulund by putting my neck on the line.”
“Don’t forget I’m getting followed too. And you came here when I specifically asked you not to. I don’t need all those cameramen knowing where I live.”
“You weren’t answering my calls and I’m running out of time.”
“They destroyed the machines?”
“All of them.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” She reaches out and touches my arm. We both notice. She curls her fingers and drops her hand. “I’ve been fixating on Zebulund. It can’t be a coincidence that the factory got hit at the same time I’m being followed. Something bigger is going on.”
“You think they’re following you because of my factory somehow?”
“I don’t see who else would suddenly care who I am. We must have been seen together.”
“Fuck.” I scrub my face with my hands.
“I’m as vested as you are. I’ll do more digging tonight, okay?”
I nod.
“Any news if this supposed séance is happening? My source can’t get me in to his house at all. He only lets his own personal staff host his get-togethers.”
“No. I’ll see if I can bring a date maybe?”
“I already said that won’t work.”
“Why exactly?”
“He can’t see me.” She’s speaking through her teeth again.
“Why, though?”
“Because I don’t want him seeing my face.”
