Page 46 of Old Flames

“What bothers me is that we had no idea,” Vicky said. “That first night, at the garden party, he gushed over his fiancé, said they traveled together all the time. Jules, you remember, right?”

Finally turning away from the window, she answered, “I remember.”

“Then, at Willie T’s, he told Dick that he’d come to Key West to get out of the house and have fun, which struck me as odd,” Vicky said with the focus of a TV detective drawing dots on a timeline. “He lives in sunny California, if he wants to get out of the house, have fun, indulge in a beach getaway, all he has to do is open his front door.”

“You never know what people are going through,” Ayesha said.

“We’re about to start the séance,” Matty told her. “If you stay, you join.”

“You’re the most unserious group of people I’ve ever spent any significant time with,” she said. “Go on, summon your spirit. I’d like to see it.”

“Not if you’re bringing that energy,” Vicky replied. She got to her feet. “Leo, where did I leave the candle?”

He pointed to the shelves where the fancy designer candle sat. She grabbed it and patted her pockets. “Jules, do you have a light?”

“Always.”

Jules fished something out of the small leather bag that she wore, cross body, over a loose men’s cotton shirt and a short denim skirt. She tossed it to Vicky. Leo followed the silver arc of the lighter from her hand to Vicky’s, his heartbeat thundering in his chest. Their lighter, the very same that she’d tossed to him. She had it still. Was it a talisman? Did she take it everywhere?

Vicky lit the candle. “Everybody, lock in.”

Matty locked in for the plot but mainly, Leo suspected, to support Vicky’s efforts. Ayesha brought her diamond cross to her lips. Leo bypassed his usual chair and joined Jules at the desk’s edge. She slid him a glance and turned away, her face flush. She might not have forgotten him, as he’d been led to believe. Or as he’d jumped to conclude based on her blunt denial on their first encounter. We haven’t met, have we? Without hesitation, she’d replied, We haven’t. But she’d slipped just now and revealed her hand. The only question was how long she was going to go on pretending.

Vicky opened with a preamble that she’d riffed from a YouTube video, which she quickly abandoned because it didn’t feel authentic. She closed her eyes. “Listen up, Aurora, you’re amongst friends here. We have great sympathy for what they put you through. Your resentment is valid. If anything, we just want to hear your side of the story. If you wish, make yourself known.”

Silence filled the tower. For a long stretch, the only sound was the flickering candle. Then a distant knock made them jump. Among the gasps, screams, whispers of “sweet Jesus,” Leo headed down the stairs to the main floor where the knock was heard, his bare feet pounding on the wood steps. This was his domain, if only for the weekend, and if a ghost wanted in, it would have to come through him. The others followed and crowded the stair landing. Leo yanked open the door, and everyone sighed in relief to find Sebastien standing there.

“Man, you nearly sent us to an early grave,” Leo said.

“I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t clear what he was apologizing about. “Forget it,” he said. “Come in. We’re mid-séance, nothing out of the ordinary.”

Sebastien didn’t move. He stood at the doorway, shaking. Tougher than witnessing his breakup was watching him break down like this. Ayesha flew to him and gently ushered him inside.

They returned to the tower and regained their places. Vicky blew out the candle and returned the lighter to Jules. Sebastien fell into the armchair under the window, looked around. “You were part of this, Ayesha?”

“They roped me in,” Ayesha replied sheepishly.

“Please don’t stop because of me,” he said. “I’ll just sit here. Go on.”

“We’re done,” Vicky announced. “It’s cool to contact the dead, but crucial to connect with the living.”

Jules shared her snacks with Sebastien. “Where’s Alexandre?”

“At the Hilton,” he said. “Guys, I’m so embarrassed. I had no idea he’d show up like that.”

Vicky held up a hand. “Quit apologizing and get into it. What’s going on?”

“He doesn’t trust me,” Sebastien admitted.

“Did you give him cause not to?” Ayesha asked.

“I love him,” Sebastien replied. “I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if I didn’t. He’s always been insecure, but now he’s crossed a line.”

“Obviously, you don’t owe us the truth,” Vicky said, after practically demanding it. “But there was no hint of trouble in paradise. On our first night, you brought up your fiancé, showed off your rock, talked about the viral engagement video . . .”

Sebastien shot upright. “About that video,” he said, “it proves my point. Who’s seen it?”