“Okay.”
I take a deep breath and say, “You’re not Willow Breeland.”
She waits for me to say something else. When I don’t, she says, “How did you find out?”
“I hired a private investigator.”
“You did? Why?”
“ Why? You showed up out of the blue and pulled a gun on me!”
“You showed up out of the blue and pulled a gun on me first! But I didn’t hire a private investigator to check you out.”
“You didn’t have to. You knew how to find me.”
“Did your PI tell you my real name?”
“I was hoping you would do that.”
“What difference does it make?”
“I have a right to know.”
“You do? Why?”
“Because you’re going to stay with me.”
“I am?”
“Yes. And you’re going to get the finest medical treatment in the world.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. And I’ll take care of you until you recover.”
“I’ll probably die.”
“If you do, I get to keep your panties.”
“I see,” she says. “You expect me to put out for you.”
“Only until you get really sick.”
“You’re joking right?”
“Yes. Mostly.”
“Why would you do this for me?”
“I owe you. Bobby and Cameron are dead because of me. Plus, it’s sort of fun to have someone to come home to.”
“Are you going soft on me, Doc?”
“What’s your real name?”
“Amy Huddleston.”
“Why did you steal a dead girl’s identity?”
“To keep my uncle from finding me.”
I nod slowly, thinking about it. That makes sense. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier.
“How old are you?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“Do I have to answer?”
“Yes.”
45
“I’m seventeen,” Willow says.
“ Shit!”
“Wait.” She puts her hand on mine. “Before you get angry, can I say three things?”
I sigh. “Go ahead.”
“First, I’m nearly eighteen.”
“How nearly?”
She looks up and to the right, like she’s counting. Then says, “Eleven days.”
“We’ll have to celebrate. What’s the second thing?”
“The sex wasn’t that bad.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I think it was mostly the circumstances.”
“I get that.”
She looks at my expression and laughs.
“What?”
“You’re suddenly happy, aren’t you!” She shakes her head. “Men. Jesus!”
“What’s the third thing?”
“The third thing is even though you’re angry about shagging a minor, can we have a nice, quiet dinner, and pretend we’re an ordinary couple? Just once?”
“A couple? Us?”
She laughs again. “Don’t get any ideas. I just want to pretend I’m on a real date with a nice guy.”
It suddenly dawns on me that Willow-Amy-has never been on a real date before.
“You don’t think the people around us will notice our age difference?” I say.
“Not if we don’t bring attention to ourselves. Can we do that? Just this once?”
I nod.
“I need to use the restroom a minute,” she says. “Will you excuse me?”
I stand when she does and she says, “That was nice of you. Thank you. And thanks for holding the door for me earlier.”
“Just because I’m a jerk doesn’t mean I don’t have good manners.”
She cocks her head.
“I think it sort of does mean that,” she says. “But thanks for doing it, anyway.”
While she’s gone I fight the urge to check my phone. Dani said there’d be much more information coming. But things are going really well with Willow-Amy-right now, and if she catches me checking my phone again it might hurt her feelings. Whatever it is can wait till after dinner.
When she returns, I stand and hold her chair for her. As she sits I say, “Should I call you Amy?”
“No.”
“In eleven days you’ll be legal. It won’t matter if your uncle finds you.”
“True. But I’ve had better luck being Willow.”
“ That’s hard to believe.”
She smiles. “I met you, didn’t I?”
I remember what Rose said about how I’d find the right woman where I least expect to. Could she possibly have meant Willow?
No.
Yes!
I mean, here’s the thing. I’m not kidding myself. I know in the real world Willow would never have the slightest interest in me. But we’re in her world, and it’s a private hell. She has no family, no money, no best friend or boyfriend, and she’s dying.
She needs me.
Am I afraid she might be using me?
No. It’s obvious she’s using me. And I’m okay with that.
I like her. I genuinely do. She’s got a hell of an attitude, and…
And she makes me happy.
What doesn’t make me happy is how the lights have suddenly gone dim. A broken-down warhorse with Tammy Faye Bakker makeup struts onto the stage and asks the crowd if we’re having fun.
Well, I was, till this happened.
The lady on stage tells the crowd she hopes we love Karen Carpenter half as much as she does, because
