“What?” I asked. I liked how she did this, spilled too much info and then tried to backtrack. Her brain and her heart were always so wide-open, for everyone to see. I was dying to know what she was about to say.

She shook her head. “It’s TMI. And I’ve told you too much about myself already.”

“You mean the Saint Marks story?” I said, chuckling as I remembered everything she’d said that morning on the subway.

She gently smacked her forehead with her palm. “I had sincerely hoped you’d erased that from your memory.”

“Never,” I said. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your not bidding on things.”

But she didn’t move. Instead, we just stood there staring at each other.

I kept talking, unsure of what to do next. “And I’ll see you next week, right?”

Did I sound too hopeful? Too eager? I didn’t know how to juggle the feelings sizzling inside me, mixed with the need to hide them from her, lest she think me desperate, or boring. Or maybe she already thought those things. It was possible she didn’t enjoy my company at all. My brain was on fire.

But then she smiled.

“Definitely.”

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Franny

I hustled as fast as I could in heels toward Cleo, to give her the details of my latest interaction with Hayes. I found her next to her brothers, Sam and Wes, identical twins, standing in a circle of partygoers on the edge of the dance floor. Sam kept his hair longer and slicked back, and Wes never went anywhere without his thick black glasses, so it was easy to tell them apart.

Cleo looked elegant and classic as always: Her hair was sleek and straight, and her dress, short-sleeved, tight, and navy, draped every curve of her body just so. She’d picked it because it was impossible to stain and she could wear her regular bra with it—in which she’d tucked a crystal to bring her calm throughout the night. Even in her stunning black-tie best, Cleo was both pragmatic and otherworldly, as always.

“There you are!” she said, wrapping an arm around my waist. Her brothers greeted me with sheepish college-boy waves.

“I need to talk to you,” I whispered in her ear, but before I could elaborate, her mom pulled me in for a hug.

“Franny!” Miriam said as she kissed me on the cheek. “Let me introduce you to everyone. The twins you know, of course.” I gave a nod in the direction of Sam and Wes, who were seniors at Brown and the University of Virginia, respectively, and starting to look like actual grown-ups in their tuxedos.

“Franny, Sam has an internship in the city coming up, and he’s looking for a sublet, if you hear of anything,” Miriam continued. “He doesn’t want to live at home with his mama. Imagine that.”