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“No, I’m telling you, she got it all wrong,” I say to Samantha over the phone. “She kept talking about Blake and me as if we were together when he was there with his girlfriend.”
“Maybe it’s a sign,” Samantha said.
“I can’t date the guy; he’s with someone else!” I cried out. “Besides, even if the wasn’t—”
“If he wasn’t, I would have told you to go with him and not bother taking my brother.” Samantha laughed. “Alex keeps talking about what an ass Blake Ford was to him. Which tells me exactly what I need to know about Blake.
“What?” I ask.
“He’s probably a great guy.”
I burst out laughing. “How do you figure that?”
“Alex always rubs people up the wrong way. He’s a journalist because he can be unrefined. Or the other way round, I’m not sure. Either way, my brother only goes on and on about the good ones, and he hasn’t shut up about how insufferable he is.”
I laugh and press buttons on my Nespresso machine to make a cup of decaf coffee.
“You know how confusing that is, right?” I ask.
The machine gurgles and splutters until a cup is ready, and I stir sugar and cream into it. I’m still wearing makeup and my hair is pinned back like it was at the event, but I’ve already dressed into pajamas and slippers.
“Alex has always been an anomaly,” Samantha says, and in my mind’s eye, I can see her shrug. “We might have shared the same womb but I understand him as much as the next guy.”
“You have such a weird relationship,” I say and walk with the phone pinched between my shoulder and cheek to the couch. I sit down and sip my coffee.
“Tell me again what she said,” Samantha asks. “It’s way more interesting than my night was.”
I laugh. “Yeah, being surrounded by celebrities must become soboring.”
“Right?” Samantha says with a giggle.
“Love, light, and success,” I say. “Andbabies.” I can just see Madame Dorota throwing her head back dramatically again when she says it and my stomach twists.
“I like the babies part,” Samantha points out.
I giggle. “Yeah, me too. I want kids one day. Just not right now, you know? And I don’t think it will be with him.”
“She said it will be,” Samantha says.
“Yeah, but she can be wrong, you know. Although, I don’t want her to be about the success part.”
“I never know if I should believe this stuff,” Samantha says.
I nod, although she can’t see me. I feel the same way. A part of me wants to believe what the fortune teller says. She knew about my heartbreak with Luc, and how I always felt like I wasn’t living my own life but rather living in his shadow. I want to believe that I will be successful and that life won’t be what it was for me before.
But how can she know something like that? How can anyone know what the future holds? Life isn’t something that comes with a manual or a program with what to expect. I firmly believe in fate and destiny. Can I believe in a fortune teller, too?
“I have to get to bed; I have another client early tomorrow morning,” Samantha says.
“Sure, we’ll talk later.”
“Don’t just write off what she says, okay?” Samantha says.
“I’ll think about it,” I say before we end the call.
When the call is over, I sit in the dark, the only light in my living room from the city and the moon falling through my open curtains. I sip my coffee and think about Blake. I don’t know what it is about him. I can’t stop thinking about him. But he’s taken—it’s clear when he’s around Emma that they’re very close, and they must have been together for a long time. Which is good. He should have someone. He’s not the guy for me. He can’t be.
The fact that the fortune teller got it wrong means nothing.
