Chapter 35

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

LAINEY

My heart is pounding fast, so fast I can hear it, or maybe that's an auditory hallucination from the psychedelic tea. I didn't drink much of it, but I definitely still feel it. I feel it now, wrapping around Jake's confession— I love you —and surrounding it with curlicues and candy hearts. I feel it whenever I catch sight of my palm and the love line splashed across it. Or when I glance at the hardwood floor and get lost in the lines of it.

I don't know why I haven't said the words back to him yet. I do. I love him. It's not a rational feeling. You shouldn't be able to spend seven years with a man without truly loving him, only to fall in love in two weeks. But there's nothing rational about the way Jake makes me feel. He makes me feel like I can breathe. Like I can be myself, and that's good enough. Like I'm even more of myself because he wants me to be me.

I can't let something bad happen to him.

Yes, he has stolen things.

Yes, he fully intended to steal Mrs. Rosings's necklace.

But he's not a bad man, and he wants to be a better one.

If he'd had anyone in his life who'd given a shit before he met Dale, things would have turned out differently for him.

And maybe his brother's a real asshole—there's no telling—but he means a lot to Jake, so he means a lot to me. Which means I'm going to make damn sure he's okay too.

I will accept nothing less.

We'll figure out a way to help him without the necklace because we have to.

Still, I don't try to stop Jake from telling Mrs. Rosings his story. I just sit there as his witness, determined to step in if he doesn't include any of the things he should include. And if she tries to call the police?

Jake and I will be leaving this house, together, before they get here. I'm not going to let them lock him up. No way.

"I befriended Anthony because I wanted to steal your necklace," he says. Which is a little too honest.

I'm about to say so, when Mrs. Rosings laughs and slaps her knee like he's told her a real humdinger.

"Tell me, are you really on a diet for your limbic system?"

"No," he says, running his thumb across my palm, tracing my love line. The feeling sends sparks of pleasure through me, and right now, I can see them, pink and purple sparkles floating through the air. Combustible. "Lainey suspected I was up to something, and she implied she might ask Rosie to spit in my food."

Mrs. Rosings laughs again, probably more amused because of the mushrooms.

"I didn't," Rosie says quickly. "I swear. I've worked in multiple restaurants, and I've never spat in anyone's food."

Mrs. Rosings laughs harder. "I imagine that's taken some restraint."

Jake takes a deep breath, then says, "I'm not saying this to excuse myself, because I've indisputably done bad things. I've been stealing from people since I was a teenager. I could tell you sob stories about being abandoned by my mother and being in foster care, but I'm not going to. Because I've known for a long time now that what I was doing was wrong, and it took longer than it should have for me to stop. But something happened to me last year that finally made me. The man I was working for didn't want to let me quit, though. So when my brother made a mistake, he took him hostage, and he's going to cut his hand off if I don't bring him the Heart of the Mountain. I'd do anything for him. Lie to you. Your son. Anyone. He's…" He glances at me, his eyes warm. "He was the only thing I had, but not anymore."

She's watching him with fascination, and it hits me again that Mrs. Rosings is bored —deeply bored and lonely and in need of drama. So I add, apropos of nothing, "Jake and Ryan are identical twins."

Her eyes widen. "And I suppose you have reason to believe this man's story, Elaine?"

"I do," I say. "I can feel it's true in my love line." Then, realizing that's probably not a convincing argument, I add, "I've seen photos of his brother sent by the guy who kidnapped him. And Damien and Nicole are looking into him."

"Why does this man who has your brother want my Heart of the Mountain?" she asks imperially.

"I don't know," Jake says. "I'm guessing he saw that documentary and figured it would be hard for me to get it. It was a challenge."

"Or a punishment," she insists. "Tell me more about this man."

So he does. He tells her Roark's name, and I interject and tell her a little more about what he did to Jake and Ryan. How he used them. She listens with an unreadable expression, her posture perfect.

Rosie sits and listens to it all, too, mostly silent.

I'm still in shock that my sweet friend is the one who stole the Heart of the Mountain. Sort of. But now that I think about it, there were signs. She's been more agitated and jumpy than normal, and everything happened so quickly with Joy.

Mrs. Rosings's lips purse as we finish our story.

It hits me that this woman whom I thought I didn't like, whom I've spent the last couple of months begrudgingly working for, has our fate in her hands. I should be more nervous about that, but if I've learned anything about Mrs. Rosings, it's that she operates by her own laws…and they're fair, more or less. I disliked the way she treated Nina, but now that I know why, I can't say I blame her.

Finally, Mrs. Rosings clears her throat and says, " Well , this afternoon has been exceedingly exciting.Has this Roark set a meeting place to make the exchange?"

"No," Jake says, his body tensing beside me. I squeeze his hand and lean in to him, because I've gotten to know her well enough that I can sense what she's dancing around. "I was supposed to get in touch with him once I acquired the necklace."

"Then you'd better get around to that, hadn't you? I'll be going with you, of course. The necklace doesn't leave my sight."

He stares at her, his mouth opening and then closing. "Mrs. Rosings…"

"Oh, not to worry. We'll get your brother out if he wants to be gotten."

"Roark's going to want to keep the necklace," Jake finally manages, running a hand back through his hair. His hand is trembling slightly, and I lay claim to it once he's done. I know he has to be thinking about Dale, the man with the watch. My own heart feels like a stranger, because Mrs. Rosings, the woman who's always looked at me and seemed to find me wanting, is being kinder to me and the man I love than my parents ever were.

Jake swallows, then adds, "He has this museum…"

"Does he?" she asks with interest. "Tell me about it."

He does, and Mrs. Rosings nods as if this confirms something for her. "It's not the necklace he really wants. It's revenge. Well…I think this Roark has caused quite enough of a fuss, don't you? We'll set him straight."

Jake is now openly gaping at her. Rosie too.

"Mrs. Rosings," I say, catching on. "This man is a dangerous criminal, and you're saying you're going to set him straight. Do you…do you know this man?"

"Yes," she says, smiling at me as if I'm a star student. "Yes, Elaine, I rather think I do."

" How do you know this man?" I ask in disbelief.

She sighs, picking at the arm of her chair as if she finds the beige fabric wanting. With a glance down the hall, she says, "Perhaps that's why I keep seeing Adrien today. I had an affair with Edmund about thirty years ago, and it would seem he's held a grudge. I'm guessing most of the people lucky enough to make it into his museum earned his ire in some way."

Jake makes a face that almost— almost —makes me laugh.

" Mrs. Rosings ," I say with a gasp.

She smiles at me. "Does it shock you that I was young once? I tried to warn you about your young man, you know. After spending half an evening with him, I was quite sure he wasn't who he said he was."

More shock, chased by a healthy dose of respect runs through me. "No," I admit, my hand still wrapped around Jake's. "But he's who he said he was today. He's a good man," I say, my voice swelling with emotion. "And he's going to use the skills he acquired from doing…questionable things to help people from now on. We both are."

Jake turns on the couch and regards me with parted lips, his eyes warm and so full of love. "I fucking worship you," he says, his voice low, although everyone in the room can probably hear him. He doesn't seem embarrassed though. He never seems embarrassed. It's one of the things I love about him—he's unapologetically himself, which is not to say he's unapologetic. He regrets what he's done, and he'd like to atone for it, but he doesn't seem to hate himself.

I don't want to hate myself anymore. Before Todd and I broke up, I loathed looking in the mirror. The person I saw staring back at me never felt right. She was well-groomed but not happy. Definitely not fulfilled. But I'm on the road to feeling that way, and I'm enjoying the journey. Because he's seen me as I am—not some shined-up version of me—and he's made me feel special and loved. And that's a gift I'll always carry with me, no matter what happens next.

"Can we have a minute?" I ask Mrs. Rosings and Rosie.

Mrs. Rosings laughs as if I've cracked a joke. "This isn't your house, you know."

"It's not yours either."

She gives me one of her signature withering looks, but her lips are quirked slightly in amusement. She doesn't hate me. Maybe she never has, and I was just projecting because a part of me still hated myself. That's going to change. It's going to change now.

"Five minutes," she says. "I'll start gathering up Nina's things."

"I'm guessing you won't be returning them to her with a bow on the box," I say.

"No," she replies flatly, then nods to Rosie. "Come, you might as well make yourself useful. There are some boxes in the basement. I suppose you can build a box?"

Rosie gives her an are you for real? look, but it's obvious stealing this woman's multimillion dollar necklace has humbled her, because she just says, "Of course."

They leave the room, and I turn toward Jake, who's still studying me. His gaze is so deep, I could fall into it—fall in and stay. His whole being in his eyes, and they're fixed on me. He wraps his arms around me, leaning his head in close. " Lainey ."

" I love you," I tell him, able to say it now. "And I want us both to be Love Fixers. We're going to run ads, do the website, all of it. If you stay . We haven't really talked about it, because we didn't know how all of this—" I wave at the house, "—would work out, but I want you to stay. I really, really want us to do this together. For this to be our life."

My heart is beating so fast, I'm afraid it'll burst like a squished grape. I'm terrified that he'll tell me no. That he'll say his existence is tethered to New York, and we can only be together if I go back to the place where I always felt like a prisoner in a glass cage.

"I just said I worship you, didn't I?" Jake says, tucking some of my errant hair behind my ear. "I'll stay for as long as you'll have me."

"That's good," I say with a laugh, feeling effervescent and good. "Because once I decide to keep someone, it's extremely hard to get rid of me. Ask Claire."

"Is that a promise, Elaine?" he asks, his voice hoarse. He's studying me in a way that makes me remember that he's someone who's felt abandoned and unwanted too. His mother walked out on him and his brother, and they never knew their father. The man he'd thought of as a father had betrayed him too.

" Yes ."

And he leans in and kisses me, his lips making a promise of their own. His hand weaving into my hair to take it deeper.

A beleaguered sigh gusts from someone's chest. I break the kiss but don't back away from him. I can't right now. I need his arms around me. I need the reassurance that he's still here—that he'll continue to be here. When I look, Mrs. Rosings and Rosie are emerging from the stairwell to the basement, Rosie carrying four boxes, Mrs. Rosings carrying nothing.

My boss sighs, her lips pressed tightly together. "Does this mean I'm going to have to find another assistant?" She says this as if she doesn't have Rosie grappling with giant boxes for her for free.

"Do you really need one?"

Most of what I've done has been in service to her attempts to break up Anthony and Nina, and surely the wedding will be cancelled.

Her eyes widen, as if she's only just realized the import of what happened here today. "Perhaps not." Her gaze shifts to Jake. "I expect you'll find a way to make it up to my son."

The scene around me still looks different than it should. Sharper, brighter, and everything is too funny or not funny enough, but when I focus on him, it all seems all right anyway.

Clearing his throat, Jake says, "I'd like to. I…have a plan for doing that, if he'll let me."

She drills a hard look into Jake. "I don't want him marrying another gold digger."

He lifts his hands. "It wouldn't be like that if it were a business arrangement with a firmly established prenup—both of them get money, then they walk away after the one year separation period."

She considers this for a moment before nodding. "Good. I couldn't care less about the money. God knows, I have plenty of it to share with both of my children, but my boy needs to feel like it's really his. He won't take it otherwise. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. First, we have to put this nonsense at bay." A smile spreads across her face. "You know, I have to admit, it's been some time since I've had this much fun ."

Anthony's not having a banger of a day, but I'm not going to point that out, since she's opted not to press charges against my friend or my boyfriend.

Boyfriend .

Rosie's right. It's such a stupid word, like we're children drawing in each other's notebooks. It doesn't encompass the way he's drawn me out and helped me process the past seven years of repression. But using it—even thinking it—puts a warm, soft glow in my chest.

And…is the carpet moving ?