Chapter 6: Not Yet

I woke up in Lucas Gorski's bed with his arm over my stomach and a lemon drop wrapper stuck to my shoulder.

Gray light came in through the glass.

He was asleep on his front with his face turned toward me, and the scar through his eyebrow looked softer.

I lay there for a minute with my heart doing something unreasonable.

Then I remembered the phone.

I slid out from under his arm, found his T-shirt on the floor, and sat on the edge of the mattress.

"You're thinking loudly," he said into the pillow.

"I'm thinking about a duck."

He opened one eye.

"I'm not going to apologize for reading it," I said.

"It was lit up on the nightstand.

"It said 'She's lying about the duck.'"

"It did."

"Is she Clara?"

"Yes," he said.

He rolled onto his back and put his forearm over his eyes.

"You wrote the clause, Magda.

"Ask me anything."

"What is the duck?"

"Not yet."

"Who is the P.I.?"

"A man I pay to find somebody."

"Who?"

"Not yet," he said.

"Ask me on day thirty.

"I'll tell you everything, to the end, with the lights on."

I looked down at him.

He wasn't hiding behind the arm.

He was holding it still.

"That's a lot of 'not yet,'" I said.

"I know."

"If you lie to me about it, I won't be calm.

"I'll burn that contract and walk out on day one."

"You can try," he said.

"I won't let you get to the door."

He said it so softly that it took me a second to hear what it was.

"Okay," I said, and it was not the answer I had planned.

"Day thirty."

He lowered the arm and looked at me with such plain relief that I got up.

I went to find coffee before I said something I couldn't take back.

The Gorski Hotels Children's Fund breakfast was at ten in the Grand's mezzanine ballroom, and I was the plus-one of the host.

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