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“Isn’t the city going to stop running without you there?”
Jasmine doesn’t really talk about his otherjob,and I don’t ask, but I know enough to piece things together. He’s a big deal, so it really is surprising that he’s here with me. He shrugs, walking to a bulletin board with some photos pinned on it.
“I only run Manhattan.”
“Oh? How does that work?”
“Elsa, the woman who was in charge before, retired so she could spend time with her grandkids. She got the idea from the man who used to run Chicago and split the city into three parts when she stepped down. That way, no one gets too power crazy.”
Three parts? I wonder why not five, for all the boroughs in New York City? Five would make sense, but maybe it would be too many people.
I hum. “Seems like there could be some territorial issues.”
He shoots me a grin. “You have no idea. Luckily, I get along with the other Families.” He points to a photo. “I’m surprised you still have this.”
I know which photo he’s talking about without seeing it. It was taken in a photo booth in Vegas shortly after he and Jasmine were married. In it, the three of us are making silly faces. Jasmine hated it and was going to toss it, but I thought it was great, so I kept it. I eye the photo, where Jafar and I stand next to each other. I’ve tried many times to convince myself that I kept the photo because it was my best friend’s wedding. The truth? I put it out because I like to look at Jafar’s face. He’s smiling in the photo, laughing at Jasmine and me. He doesn’t smile enough…
He turns. “Ready to go?”
“Uh, yeah.” His sudden mood swing confuses me. “You can have the photo if you want it.”
“No, you keep it. I don’t want it. Come on.”
His words shouldn’t sting, dammit. He leads the way, waiting patiently as I lock up. In the car, I tell the driver the address of the clinic. Wichita has grown a lot over the years, but there are still poor areas, which is where the clinic is. The rented vehicle sticks out like a sore thumb as we pull up front.
“I’ll be right back.”
To my dismay, Jafar unbuckles and follows me. Great. I lead him into the clinic where Melissa, the receptionist, looks up in shock.
“Ellie! I didn’t know you were coming in today. There’s some paperwork I need you to look over and—oh!” Her cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had someone with you.”
Jafar gives her a panty-dropping smile. “I’m no one, ma’am. Just an old friend of Ellie’s.”
“A friend?” Her eyes light up. “I see. Ellie, you should bring your good-lookingfriendaround more often.”
Kill me now.
“We’re not friends. He’s married to my best friend, Jasmine.”
Melissa deflates like a balloon. “Pity. Well, it’s nice to meet you, anyway.”
Jafar nods. “You, too.”
I ask, “Is Ty in?”
“He is. Want me to buzz him?”
“I’ll just peek my head in his office.” I turn to tell Jafar I’ll be back, but I can already tell that he’s not going to let me do this without him. Fine. “This way, Jafar.”
He smirks, following me to the back part of the clinic. Fridays are slow, so I know Ty is likely catching up on signing charts. His door is open, but I knock, nonetheless.
“Hey Ty. Do you have a minute?”
Ty is a few years older than me, and I guess might be considered handsome, but he’s never done anything for me. Besides, I don’t believe in mixing work and pleasure.
He looks up, pushing a stray piece of his red hair from his eyes. “Ellie May! What on earth are you doing back? You took time off until Monday!”
I grin. Ever since he found out my middle name, he’s been calling me by both names. It’s cute and endearing.
