But he was dressed in navy fatigues.
Christopher would never join the military, considering his father, the Commander, a political science professor at NYU, had drilled into his son a deep-rooted mistrust of all authority figures. And, seeing as how he was only in eleventh grade, like me, Christopher couldnt join the navy even if he wanted to.
On the blond guys face was an expression of extreme dislike.
The dislike appeared to be for me. There was no one else around at whom it could be directed.
Great. What had I ever done to Blondie? Id never even seen him before.
Um, I said, quickly stabbing the up b.u.t.ton for the elevator. Im sorry. Are you speaking to me?
The expression of dislike on Blondies face deepened. He looked as if he was twenty, maybe a little older. There were a lot of insignias on his uniform. But I was too transfixed by the dislike on his face to drag my gaze away from his to read what they said.
Cut the act, Nik, he said, stalking toward me. His voice was deep. I noticed a very faint twinge of Southern accent in it. That amnesia thing may work on all your fashionable friends, but its not going to work on me.
I blinked at him, then glanced toward the buildings front doors. Karl was still outside, cleaning up Cosabellas mess. Which was unfortunate, because it was his job to prevent unpleasant scenes like this. I will admit that Blondie didnt look like the usual ponytailed hipsters who showed up, demanding money from me or theyd go to the Star with their story of our torrid night in Vegas, or wherever.
But why else was he here?
Im sorry, I said, mentally rehearsing the speech Id had to say so many times over the past few weeks when Id run into Nikkis so-called friends and relatives whod confronted me in the exact same way. But because of my amnesia, which I can a.s.sure you really is real, I dont remember who you are. Youre going to have to introduce yourself. Your name is?
Blondies blue eyes"they reminded me of someones. Only who?"which were pretty cold to start out with, got even colder as he stared at me.
Seriously, he said. Thats what youre going to go with? The amnesia thing? You really think thats going to work on me? Me?
He said the amnesia thing like it was some kind of lie Nikki had tried on him before. And apparently it didnt work the first time.
Its not a thing, I said, sticking out my chin. Although, of course, it was. Considering I didnt have amnesia. I just wasnt Nikki Howard. Except legally. I really dont have any idea who you are. If you choose not to believe that, I suggest you leave before I have to do something were both going to regret.
Like what? he asked. Call the cops?
Since that was exactly what I was going to have Karl do"although it seemed like a shame to have to do that to a member of the U.S. military services"I didnt say anything.
Blondie stared at me some more.
My G.o.d, he said after a minute, incredulity slowly dawning across his handsome, if somewhat tired-looking face. Youd really do it, wouldnt you? Call the cops on me.
I told you, I said. The elevator, to my relief, had finally come. I dont have the slightest idea who you are. Now, if you dont mind, I just got home from a shoot, and Im really tired, and I still have to unpack"
To my total surprise, he reached out and grabbed my arm. His grip was hard. There was no way I could break it if I tried. And I wasnt about to try, because I wanted to keep all my limbs in one piece.
Now I was starting to get scared. Karl was nowhere in sight and the lobby was empty, unusual for a Sunday afternoon when the rest of the tenants of our upwardly mobile, $10,000-a-month-rent condo building tended to be running off to their workouts or to Starbucks for their latte fixes. Who was this creepy guy, with his cold-eyed stare and military uniform?
I said to cut the act, Nik, he said in a voice as hard as his grip. Cosabella, at my feet, was beginning to sense something was wrong, and was whining nervously. Blondie ignored her. Youre embarra.s.sed to admit you know me? Fine. You always were. But how could you do what you did to her? She disappears, and you dont even care? You know I couldnt keep tabs on her while I was in a submarine. And now shes gone. No one even knows where she is, not even her best friends, Leanne and Mary Beth. They havent heard from her. Dont even try to make out like any of this isnt your fault.
He stared at me accusingly, but I honestly had no idea what he was talking about. Everything he was saying sounded like gibberish to me. Leanne? Mary Beth? And who was gone? Who was she?
Whoever she was, she seemed very important to him. So important that his gaze no longer looked cold, but was shining with emotion.
An emotion that looked to me a lot like hate.
For me.
Whoa, I said, holding up a single hand"the one not attached to the arm he was cutting off all the circulation to with his death grip. Slow down. I have no idea what youre talking about. Whos Leanne? Whos Mary Beth? Who are you? And who is this missing woman youre talking about?
The last question seemed to slam him like a fist. He was so shocked he actually dropped my arm and took a step back, staring at me like I was some sort of strange and not particularly attractive breed of animal that had just been unveiled at the zoo. Maybe in the reptile house.
She is your mother, he said finally, pointing to one of the insignias on his chest, which I now saw, belatedly, said HOWARD. And Im your big brother, Steven. Now do you remember me, Nikki?
FOUR.
WELL, THAT DID KIND OF EXPLAIN THE nasty looks he kept giving me.
And continued to give me, now that Id brought him up to the loft. Not that I blamed him. It wasnt like I knew what to say to him, exactly, and was nervously buzzing around, making him an espresso from our deluxe cappuccino/espresso maker, which Lulu had only recently showed me how to work. I wasnt sure what else to do, other than offer him coffee, really. I mean, Id never had a big brother before. Let alone a big brother who was really mad at me for losing our mother, for whom apparently Nikki was responsible while he was on duty.
He didnt seem too enthused about the espresso, but at least hed finally accepted the amnesia explanation. Sort of. Lulu was a big help in this capacity. Shed come staggering out of her room (wearing nothing but a shiny peach-colored camisole and a pair of tap pants, with her hair doing something crazy because she had evidently just woken up, even though it was two in the afternoon"early for her, really) while I was trying to get the espresso maker to work. Lulu took one look at the uniformed man taking up so much s.p.a.ce in our living room (not that he was fat or anything. He was just tall and muscular andwell, the kind of guy who took up a lot of s.p.a.ce) and went, Well, h.e.l.l-ooooo there, with this big smile on her face.
I wanted to go, Not now, Lulu, because I knew exactly what she was up to. Lulu was getting ready to make Steven fall in love with her, the way she did every cute guy she encountered. Making cute guys fall in love with her was Lulus hobby, besides shopping, drinking mojitos, and occasionally recording songs for her record alb.u.m that never seemed to get finished.
But I neednt have worried. Because Steven"Nikkis brother"just went, Hi, to Lulu in this totally uninterested way and kept right on saying what hed been saying the whole time we were coming up in the elevator together, which was, Amnesia? Like people get on soap operas?
Not exactly, I a.s.sured him. Even though, from what I understand, there isnt such a thing, really. Well, there is, but not the way Nikki Howard was supposed to have it. People dont conk their head and just selectively forget some stuff when they get amnesia. They forget everything. Like their own names and the country they live in. Sometimes they even forget how to tie their shoes.
And youre telling me you dont remember, Steven went on, completely ignoring Lulu, who was now sauntering past him in her shiny getup, which shed accessorized with a pair of matching feathered mules, that you promised to look after Mom while I was gone, make sure she was paying her rent on time and that things were running smoothly with the dog grooming kennel?
Dog grooming kennel? Nikki Howards mom owned a dog grooming kennel? This was information it might have been helpful for someone to have shared with me"along with the fact that Nikki had a brother in the navy"earlier than, oh, say, now. All anyone had ever said to me was that Nikki was an emanc.i.p.ated minor who hadnt gotten along with her family.
For this reason I shot Lulu a dirty look as she hopped up onto one of the kitchen counter stools"careful to cross her spraytanned legs so that Steven had as full a view of them as possible. But Lulu completely ignored me, all her attention being focused on the handsome blond man in the uniform standing in the middle of our living room.
Um, I said, fumbling with the espresso machine. Better to concentrate on the coffeemaker than on what was happening in the living room, which was precisely what it looked like: trouble. Nice of Nikki, by the way, to have a whole drawer of press clippings about herself and not a single photo of her own family. Up until you told me, I didnt even know I had a brother. So, the answer is no, I dont remember telling you that. Or about Mom and her dog grooming business, either, for that matter.
So what rank are you? Lulu wanted to know, her gaze raking Stevens buff form as he stood with his arms crossed, consequently making his biceps bulge a little beneath his uniform. Lulu couldnt seem to keep her foot from jiggling, and this was causing one of her feathered mules to bobble up and down in a very distracting manner. She was doing this on purpose, of course, to get Steven to look at her recently waxed legs.
Steven continued to ignore her.
And what about all the messages I left you, he asked me. You just thought it was better to ignore those?
I get a ton of messages from guys I dont know, I explained. This was excruciating. They all say theyre related to me and that I owe them money for something. I stopped listening to Nikkis"I mean, my messages a long time ago.
Great, Steven said. He turned away, running a hand through his hairthe exact same color and texture hair, I realized, that sprouted from my own head. Only his hadnt been treated to some golden honey highlights. Thats just fantastic. Do you still have them? Those messages. Maybe Mom tried to reach you, left you a message or something, telling you where shes gone.
Are you, like, an officer? Lulu asked Steven, her foot still bobbing like mad. I noticed shed had a pedicure"Ballet Slipper Pink. Dont ask me how I know these things when, three months ago, I wouldnt have been able to tell the different nail polish colors apart if youd held a gun to my head. Do you give people orders all day? I love taking orders from a man. Its so s.e.xy.
Sorry, I said, apologizing both for my roommate and for what I was about to tell him. Because I really was sorry. For both. I deleted all Nikkis"I mean, my messages. But"I slipped a tiny espresso cup under the appropriate spout and pressed the b.u.t.ton with a small cup on it"Im sure sh.e.l.l call back. Right?
Steven shook his head, looking more exhausted than ever, and slid onto one of the kitchen counter stools like he couldnt support his own weight anymore. Lulu looked delighted, because the seat hed chosen was only two stools down from hers. Apparently, she didnt get the subtle message that hed chosen the stool farthest away from her. She immediately straightened up to show her chest area to better advantage and gave him a dazzling smile, which he ignored.
You really do have amnesia, he said to me. His face was a mask of misery. I felt so sorry for him, my heart twisted. Mom never calls back. Shes always been one and done. Why do you think Im here checking to see if shes been in touch with you instead of waiting to hear from her back in Gasper?
Lulu completely forgot about making Steven fall in love with her and choked on some of her own saliva. Did you say G-Gasper? she gasped between coughs.
Steven actually looked at her for a second, then back at me. You never told her? he said. It was more of a statement than a question, and it caused me to pause as I slid the espresso, complete with a foamy creme cap on top, in front of him.
Umapparently not, I said. I had no idea what he was talking about, either, of course, since I wasnt actually his sister. His sister was dead. Or at least, her brain was sitting in formaldehyde in a jar somewhere in the bowels of the Stark Inst.i.tute for Neurology and Neurosurgery, even if the rest of her might have been walking around with my brain inside it, using her credit cards and making her brother espressos.
Which made her dead enough.
I just couldnt tell her brother that.
Steven was looking at me over his steaming espresso like he couldnt quite believe what hed heard.
Wait, he said, his blue-eyed gaze incredulous. You dont remember home, either?
Hesitantly, I shook my head. I didnt want to hurt him. The truth was, he looked like hed been hurt enough.
But I couldnt outright lie to him, either, no matter how much Stark Enterprises might expect me to.
And now I knew where Id seen those eyes before: In the mirror, every time I glanced at my new reflection. They were Nikkis eyes.
Only without Chanel Inimitable Multi-Dimensional Mascara in noir/black on the lashes.
Steven folded his arms, leaned against the back of his stool, and stared at the ceiling. For a second, I wondered if he was noticing the same thing Id come home and noticed the other daythe two round holes, no bigger than pennies, on either side of the sunken halogen lamps, that hadnt been there before and had obviously been filled in, but rapidly and badly, as if someone had been placing something in there and gotten the news that one of the lofts occupants was coming home early.
What were those holes for? They were too high up for me to ever climb up there and check myself"the ceilings were twenty feet high, at least.
But they couldnt possibly serve any purpose"other than a nefarious, Stark-related one. Maybe I was just being paranoid. When I asked Karl about the holes, he consulted a maintenance schedule, and told me it looked like a routine wiring check.
Wiring, my b.u.t.t.
Maybe routine wiring was the reason the RF transmitter"or bug detector, I bought at one of the surveillance gear stores in Midtown shortly after I noticed the holes in the ceiling and my paranoia got the better of me"went crazy every time I turned it on inside the loft. The place was either loaded with listening devices or the detector itself was a total scam (but for the money I paid, it ought to have been genuine). Besides, it didnt go off anywhere else"school, for instance.
But Steven, it appeared, hadnt noticed the holes. Instead, it looked as if he was staring at the ceiling because he might be trying to hold back tears. Tears over his missing mom, and the fact that I didnt even remember the hometown we shared in common.
I threw a panicky glance at Lulu, who dropped her vamp act for a millisecond and looked just as alarmed as I was. What do we do? our gazes seemed to ask as we stared at each other. We had a big strong military man in our girly loftand he was crying! Over his lost mother!
Oh, this was awful. How could Stark Enterprises have put me in a position like this? It was one thing when I just had to fool makeup artists and Nikkis mostly heinous ex-boyfriends that I was her and not me.
But this was different! Poor guy. I was such a loser. I mean, here I was in all these AP cla.s.ses at one of the best high schools in Manhattan"I was more capable of using a bug detector, diagramming a complex sentence, using Manolo tips (which, it turned out, meant standing on tiptoe in the water during a beach shoot, to make your legs look longer), and writing a simple string processor than anyone at Tribeca Alternative.
But help Nikki Howards brother find his mom? My hands were tied, thanks to the confidentiality clause Stark had my parents sign. I couldnt say a word"especially not here, in the loft.
Then I heard a sound come from Nikkis brother. For one breathless moment, I thought it must have been a sob. A single glance at Lulu revealed she felt the same way I did"like crying, too. It really was just the sweetest thing, this big strong guy, crying over his mom.
It took us a second or two to realize Steven wasnt crying at all. He was laughing.
And not like someone who found something genuinely funny, though.
You are a piece of work, Nik, he finally said, when he looked away from the ceiling. There were tears in his eyes, all right. But they were tears of amus.e.m.e.nt. Youre so ashamed of where you come from, you never even told anyone the name of the town you were born in? Not even your best friend?
I blinked at him in confusion. Wait. He was laughing?
Wait. Lulu leaned forward on her stool. Youre laughing?
h.e.l.l, yeah, Steven said. How can you not? Did you know this girl used to tell people she was from New York, New York, when we were growing up? Thats how ashamed she was to say she was from Gasper. Im not surprised she never told you.
Lulu looked over at me. Really, Nikki? she asked. You used to tell people you were from here?
How would I know? I asked. I couldnt believe Id thought Nikkis brother was crying, when hed been laughing"at me"the whole time. I have amnesia, remember?
Yes, she did, Steven said, in reply to Lulus question. Now, instead of ignoring Lulu, he was ignoring me. Are you saying she never even told you she had a brother?
Lulu shook her head, delighted he was paying attention to her. Her brown eyes were enormous, thanks to last nights makeup being s.e.xily smudged around her lashes. She looked, as always, adorable, like a doll.
Noooo, she said. She leaned an elbow on the counter and cupped her pointed chin in her hand so she could peer up at him. Id have remembered if shed mentioned having someone like you around while she was growing up.
Steven snorted and threw a disgusted look at me. Typical, the look seemed to say.
Great. Now my roommate and brother were ganging up on me.
Which was so unfair. I was getting blamed for something I didnt even do. Nikki did it!
Or had she?
Look, I dont mean to be rude or anything, I said. Which I knew was a horrible way to start a sentence, because of course whenever you say I dont mean to be rude, whatever youre about to say is going to be rude. That was something the Walking Dead, and especially Whitney Robertson, had taught me, since she used to preface all her most tactless barbs with I dont mean to be rude, but.
I dont mean to be rude, Em, but have you ever thought about going on a diet? Your b.u.t.t is so big, its almost impossible to pa.s.s you in the hallway. Maybe you need to put a sign on your a.s.s that says Wide Load.
I dont mean to be rude, Em, but have you ever considered wearing a bra during PE? Those things are flopping around so much, youre going to put someones eye out.
I dont mean to be rude, Em, but has it ever occurred to you that your harping on how not enough women are entering the sciences might be one of the reasons none of them wants to? Maybe they dont want to hang around with girls like you.
Still, even though Whitneys I dont mean to be rudes had stung me so many times, I found myself saying the exact same words"and to my own brother, of all people. Well, Nikkis brother.
but how do I even know for sure youre who you say you are? I asked.
The difference between me and Whitney, though, was that I felt awful for my I dont mean to be rude. I really did.
At the same time, how did I know Steven really was Nikkis brother? I mean, he seemed sincere, and yeah, he looked a lot like the reflection I saw every day in the mirror (and in magazines, and on billboards, and on the sides of buses, and okay, just about everywhere).
But thered been guys (and even some women) showing up in our lobby for weeks now with stories saying they were related to me. How did I know this one was legit?