Page 72 of Gilt

Instead, he spins me around and pulls me close to him. “So you are interested in going?”

“Of course I am.” The Empire State Building. Broadway. Fifth Avenue. Why wouldn’t I be dying to go?

“Why have you never been to the East Coast?”

“It’s complicated and I don’t feel like telling sad stories tonight. You know the saying: and baby makes three? Well, according to my parental units, three’s a crowd.”

“No need to say more, Duchess. I’m going to take you to New York, then London, and maybe Tokyo after that.”

“Paris?” I suggest nonchalantly.

“Definitely Paris.” Neither of us mentions the fact that if he’s already in violation of the terms of his bail by being a state away, Europe is out of the question. “I guess it’s your birthday, so which one do you want to go to?”

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” I reassure him. We can dream, but we can’t actually revise reality.

“We do.” He brushes a sticky strand of hair from my forehead. “They can’t cage us.”

“They already have,” I say softly.

“Then we’ll break free.”

“Do you really think we can?” I ask. We stand for a moment, clinging to each other despite the oppressive Californian heat. Above us, strings of light twinkle in the twilight like dozens of wishing stars but they can’t grant our desires any more than we can.

“What do you want, Duchess?” he asks, reading the silence in my eyes. “The moon, the stars? Say the word, and I’ll give them to you.”

“You,” I whisper. “I only want you.”

When we’ve exhausted the carnival’s delights, we drive to the base of the San Jacinto Mountains. But the farther we get from the lively downtown scene, the quieter we each become until we’ve left normal behind entirely. Jameson’s eyes stare into the distance as he parks the convertible. “Your stepfather’s right. It’s selfish for me to want you back in Vegas.”

“But inevitable,” I remind him. If he’s right and the police suspect me too, then my return can’t be avoided.

“Maybe not,” he admits slowly. “Between my lawyers and Hans’s lawyers, we can probably keep them tied up for a while.”

But not forever.

“You shouldn’t have to face this alone. If they have questions about what happened that night, we need to answer them.”

“Emma, we both know we weren’t together the entire evening. I left you by the pool. I want you to rescind my alibi.”

“But you were with me.” Panic boils in my chest bubbling over in a rush of unfamiliar emotions. “You were with me most of the night. Besides, there were dozens of people there. Anyone could have done it.”

“But my fingerprints are all over the scene.”

“Yes, because you found the body, and what about my alibi?” I ask. “They found him in his office and that’s where we met, so…”

He nods grimly. He might want to believe the investigators are going after me to rattle him, but we both know I had just as much opportunity that evening. Plus, given my family’s history with the Wests, nearly as much motive as well.

“You weren’t with me the whole night,” I repeat, latching on to that fact. If he thinks I’m going to let him play the martyr, he can climb right back off that cross. “Which means I was alone, too. If they’re going to make you a suspect, they might as well make me one as well. Besides that, you’re not going to be able to find who did this by yourself. Not if you’re constantly being dragged in for questioning.”

“You think they’re going to give you an extra recess while I stay in the principal’s office?” he points out dryly.

I won’t admit that he’s right. Not when I need to sound confident about what’s at stake. Instead, I fall back on classic diversionary tactics. “Why are they so focused on you anyway? You weren’t the only one there with a motive. I think they’re just being lazy.”

Judging from how his fingers tighten on the steering wheel, I’ve hit a nerve. “It’s more than that. Mackey has a vendetta. My lawyers say she wants to see me burn for this.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have an answer for you, but I’m going to find out the reason she has it in for me.”