Page 62 of Unraveling Fate

“That’s fair, that’s fair. I won’t say I don’t deserve that.” He paused. “But I know. About Taran.” He pointed at the Ferrari.

Cadenza’s heart raced, and her eyes widened. She cleared her throat to cover her reaction. “Know what about him?”

Canon raised an eyebrow. “Cadenza, I heard the two of you talking the other night. I saw him try to jump through the gap in the fence. I know about the curse.”

“Where are you going with this?” Her heart sank. What kind of exchange was he hoping for with this information?

“I’m not goinganywhere with it.” He folded his arms and leaned against the car. “This is me leaving behind any advantage at the negotiation table, if you’ll forgive the expression. I’m simply being transparent, and for two reasons. One, we all need to be upfront with each other about this situation if we’re going to keep you safe. And two,” he hesitated, and she could see him wrestling with his defenses. The mask split, real-Canon staring at her earnestly from the crack. “I know I made a clear offer last week, but the situation has changed. Last week your life wasn’t in danger. I want you to be safe. Please, let me bring my security people in, whether you reconsider my offer or not. Although, I hope, the situation now being what it is that you will reconsider.”

“Canon—”

“He isn’t even human half the day,” he interrupted, gesturing at the Ferrari. “He’ll never be at a performance for you, let alone be able to fix this problem and keep you safe.” The crack in the mask sealed, a sales pitch tone creeping into his voice. “I can protect you. I have the resources for the life you want. I’m the better choice for you—I cango placeswith you, Cadenza.”

She stamped her foot. “Canon, this is not an election! I am not a market share, or a demographic to be won over.”

“That is what you want, though, isn’t it?” Canon asked, almost to himself. “The stage, travel. Your ambitions fulfilled.” He stared through her with unfocused eyes. “No. It’s changed.” He dropped his arms to his side. “What you want most, it’s changed.” His eyes came back to the present, and he stepped closer. “You’ve changed.”

Cadenza swallowed. Had she changed? She was still going to get herself to Italy. But this last week, how much of her attention had been on proving to her mother she had what it took, and how much on someone else? Her eyes flicked to the Berlinetta.

“People change, Canon,” she said. She thought of the times his mask cracked, or he set it aside, and her anger melted. “I hope you figure out how someday.”

She drove the car out of the garage, watching in her rearview mirror as Canon stared after her.

Canon watched Cadenza drive off,fingernails digging into his palms. Why didn’t she get it? The two of them made sense. He’d passed on any number of women because they didn’t make sense with him. Sure, they’d been intelligent and beautiful, but he couldn’t have built anything with any of them. They offered no advantage in what he wanted out of life, and he couldn’t have propelled them forward in what they wanted. Partners should help each other succeed. He and Cadenza could do that for each other. If she’d let go of her pride and this idea that she had to do everything all on her own, she’d see that.

He stomped over to the Ferrari and aimed a kick at the back tire. “The irony. A sports car that can’t take her anywhere.” He paced around the car. “Cadenza’s extraordinary, she deservesbetter than you and you know it. But you’re too selfish to encourage her to do what’s best for her.”

Cadenza’s words came back to him.Why can’t you just be a normal human?

Normal. He snorted in derision. Anyone could achieve “normal.” Anyone could achieve average.

Anyone could achieve anonymous.

He’d learned that early on in life, arriving home from fifth grade one afternoon to find his mother leafing through travel brochures.

“Look at this one, Canon!” she’d said, eyes shining. The brochure boasted scuba diving lessons at a resort in Laguna Beach. “Extraordinary Encounters with Sealife!” hovered in gold letters over a couple posing with dolphins.

He handed her his essay while he perused the brochures.

“A ‘C’?” she asked with a frown.

“What’s wrong with a ‘C’?” He tossed the pamphlet back on the table. He’d worked hard on that essay. Didn’t grown-ups remember how difficult five paragraph essays were? “A ‘C’ is technically average, it’s not failing, Mom.”

His father came in from the garage, home from work for the day. He hummed tunelessly, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. “Family vacation time coming up,” he announced.

His mother perked up and waved the brochure. “Look at this one, James. Mr. Pearce said the company would pay for?—”

“I booked the cabin,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “We’re all set.”

Canon exchanged a look with his mother. Every year his father took them to a cabin on Turlock Lake. Canon enjoyed the swimming and the fishing and the scrambling about on the shore looking for critters, but his mother looked pointedly down at Canon’s essay and the message rang clear.

There was nothing wrong with Turlock Lake. Technically, it was a vacation. But the same cabin, at the same lake, year after year, did not rate an “A.” It did not rate “extraordinary.”

His father shuffled out of the room, oblivious to the look his mother gave him. But Canon saw. Fifteen years of a “C” marriage shot weary daggers from her eyes at his father’s back.

His mother fixed Canon with a stare and tapped the travel brochure.

He rewrote it, resubmitted it to his surprised teacher, and got an “A.”