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  I stood up, grabbing my suit jacket from a nearby hanger, and turned. “Why don’t you order yourself something special from the private Gucci sale going on? Just give my name when you call.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Mr. Abbott?”

  “Consider it an apology for having to deal with my father and also a thank-you for taking care of me.”

  “That’s not necessary—” She began, and I made a noise, cutting her off.

  “I saw you browsing the private listings this morning when I came in. You want that bag.”

  Her cheeks turned pink, and she glanced away. “Well, you weren’t in yet, and I just received your invitation—”

  “Go buy it. Seriously. And thank you.” Pausing at the door, I called back, “I’ll be back in two hours.”

  “One hour and fifty minutes!” she yelled back.

  Laughing under my breath, I kept going, reaching into my jacket pocket for a pair of black sunglasses.

  “Thank you!” Her voice echoed down the hall as I stepped into the elevator.

  Finally alone, I leaned against the wall and let out a breathy sigh. “She might be your one true love.” I mocked my father’s words.

  A humorless laugh escaped me.

  I wondered what he would say if I told him she most definitely was not. That she could be the most beautiful, angelic woman in the entire world and she still wouldn’t be my type.

  No woman was.

  2

  Fletcher

  * * *

  The tall, mirrored building stretched to the sky. So high my head tipped back as far as possible and my eyes squinted up, still unable to see the top.

  The mirrored windows making up the side glinted with sunlight, reflecting the city behind me. Cabs zoomed by, horns honking and mixing with the usual sounds of the city. Even with all the noise, it was a little quieter here. A little… nicer.

  I wasn’t quite used to the difference between the Upper East Side and the Grimms, but maybe someday I would be.

  Pulling my chin down, resolving to try again next time to see the very top of Ivory’s building, I caught sight of my reflection.

  It became blindingly obvious why I wasn’t used to this elite part of the city. I didn’t fit here. I looked sorely out of place.

  Baggy, scuffed-up jeans. Hand-me-down sneakers from Beau. A loose T-shirt that was technically Neo’s, but I wore it more than he did. All of this topped with a mane of floppy hair that swished when a large truck rumbled past at a speed he probably shouldn’t be traveling.

  A man wearing a tailored dark suit passed between me and my reflection, a pristine leather briefcase gripped in his palm.

  Looking down, I saw my own “briefcase,” faux leather, beaten and ripped, decorated with stickers I picked up almost everywhere I went.

  Smiling, I patted the case fondly. “You’re so much better than some stuffy old case filled with paperwork,” I told her lovingly.

  Nearly tripping on the hem of the too-long jeans, I went inside the building, ignoring the obvious stares I garnered. People always stared at me here. I was used to it.

  Sort of.

  Feeling a light flush creep up the back of my neck, I went toward security, a genuine smile filling my face when I saw who was manning the check-in.

  “Fletch, my man!” Dennis called, white teeth bright against his ebony skin. “It’s been a hot minute. How you been?”

  Despite being dressed in a fancy fitted black suit, shiny black loafers, and adorned with a black earpiece at his ear, the guard was more like me than anyone else in this building.

  I held up my fist, and we bumped it out. “Hey, Dennis!” I called, my voice enthusiastic. “I’m great. Been super busy. How’re you?”

  “It’s all good here. Just standing around in my penguin suit. You catch the game last night?”

  When I nodded enthusiastically, my hair fell into my eyes, and I swiped it away while answering, “Of course! Can you believe that last-minute shot?”

  Dennis whistled. “Damn near spilled my beer!”

  The woman at the reception desk across the way cleared her throat loudly.

  Dennis straightened and gave me a bored look. “Who are you visiting today, sir?”

  Fishing my visitor pass out of my back pocket, I held it up for him to scan. “Just came by to see my sister.”

  Dennis nodded, the scanner beeping over the barcode on my ID. “Thank you, sir. You may go in now.”

  “Thanks!” I said, moving through the little gate. “See you next time,” I said, waving over my shoulder.

  He winked.

  “Hi, Bethany!” I called to the woman at the reception desk.

  Her head snapped up because I was being loud again and dragging her into it. She acted like this lobby was a museum.

  “You look pretty today.” I went on.

  The sour look melted from her face, and she smiled. “Thank you, Fletcher. I’ll call up and let Ms. White know you’re on your way up.”

  Behind me, Dennis laughed under his breath, and I stepped into a waiting elevator, settling in for a long ride to the top.

  The doors barely opened onto Ivory’s floor when a voice floated into the elevator car. “Mr. Fletcher, welcome.”

  “Agh!” I exclaimed, jolting back against the far wall, gripping my violin case like it was a shield.

  Charles (Ivory’s right-hand man) also jolted. “Sir?”

  “Why do you have to be so creepy, Charles?” I wheezed out, straightening with a hand over my chest. “Mr. Fletcher, welcome,” I mocked, my voice morose and weird.

  “I didn’t realize my greeting was creepy,” he said, not even the tiniest bit impressed with my dead-on impression.

  I was actually pretty bad at a lot of stuff. But I was good at useless stuff, impressions being one of those things.

  “You should try out for a horror movie,” I suggested. “You’d make a great creepy butler who’s actually the killer but no one thinks is actually the killer because you’re so boring.”

  His eyes flickered with a little amusement, but it didn’t hang around long. “I’m afraid my schedule with Ms. White keeps me busy enough.”

  The elevator doors started to close, and I was still inside. Diving forward, I made it out before they could ding. In my rush, I tripped over the hem of my jeans and toppled into Charles.

  He actually wasn’t much bigger than me, so we both fell to the ground.

  “Sir!” Charles exclaimed.

  “Sorry!” I untangled my legs from his and jumped up, offering a hand to the man. He glared at it and then stood on his own.

  Clearing his throat and adjusting his jacket, he motioned. “Please, right this way. Ms. White is waiting.”

  I felt my eyes go wide. “Is that why you were there? You knew I was coming?” Rushing to catch up, I said, “Are you telepathic?”

  He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes, his voice dry. “Bethany called from the lobby.”

  “Oh yeah.” I remembered.

  He stopped at Ivory’s door and knocked twice.

  I didn’t wait for her to call out. Instead, I went past him to push open the door.

  “Sir!”

  “Family doesn’t knock,” I said.

  “Fletch!” Ivory called the second I opened the door.

  “Thanks for the escort,” I told Charles, and he smiled politely before pulling the door closed between us.

  “He’s kinda weird,” I whispered loudly as I moved across the huge office.

  Ivory laughed, standing up behind her massive sleek glass desk and coming around with a big smile on her face.

  She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Glossy black hair, big blue eyes, and skin as white as snow. She was small and austere looking, wearing a body-hugging, light-colored dress and a pair of heels. I didn’t know how she walked in them. I could barely walk in sneakers.

  I probably would have been intimidated by her if I’d met her like this first. But she’d wandered into my
world, her fancy aura ruffled and overcome by the unknown. She was kind to me and my brothers, even if she did screech a lot at first. She even overlooked that time I got her arrested.

  Neo fell in love with her, and now she was my sister.

  Setting my case on the couch nearby, I met her halfway, hugging her tight and breathing in her light scent. “I missed you,” I told her.

  She pulled back but kept hold of my arms. “If you missed me, why didn’t you come see me sooner?”

  Oh yeah. She had tried to get me over here a couple times.

  “I was busy.”

  Her rose-colored lips pursed. “What did I say about lying?”

  “I was!” I insisted. I was busy not doing much. A person could be busy doing anything.

  “Where’s the coat I bought you?” she demanded, looking at my T-shirt and then at the couch where I’d tossed my stuff.

  “I forgot it,” I mumbled.

  “It’s getting cold out. It’s not summer anymore.” She scolded.

  “I know.”

  Releasing me, Ivory picked up the phone on her desk and hit a button. “Charles, can you put in an order for some hot chocolate—” Her words were interrupted. Then she smiled. “That’s why I can’t live without you,” she added a moment later, then hung up the phone.

  The door swung in seconds later, and Charles appeared, pushing a small cart with a white cloth draped over the top. In the center was a plate of pastries and two paper cups.

  My eyes widened when I saw the familiar logo on the side, and my tongue darted across my lower lip, already salivating for the rich chocolate flavor. “Kismet!” I exclaimed, bouncing on the couch.

  Ivory laughed lightly. “It’s your favorite. Even Charles knows by now. He’d already ordered ahead.”

  “Sorry I called you creepy earlier, Charles.” I apologized, reaching for the paper cup with no lid because it was piled high with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle. The second my fingers closed around the cup, the drizzle dripped farther down the side and over my digit.

  “Yes, well,” Charles said, clearing his throat as I licked away the sweetness.

  Ivory arched a dark brow. “Charles, creepy?”

  “He stalks the elevator. It’s weird.” I elaborated.

  “You’re very diligent in your profession, Charles. A trait I well admire. Thank you very much for this. You can go back to your office now.”

  When he was gone, Ivory put her fist on her hip. “You shouldn’t give him such a hard time.”

  “Me?” I asked, lowering the cup from my lips.

  Ivory laughed. “You have whipped cream on your nose.”

  I wiped it away and then took another sip. The hot chocolate from Kismet was literally the best I’d ever had in my entire life. I never knew hot chocolate could taste so good. It was thick and rich, creamy and chocolatey. Sometimes they put mint in it. Sometimes caramel or peanut butter. You could even get it frozen!

  It was also way overpriced and in the fancy district, so I never would have had it if we hadn’t met Ivory. Sighing appreciatively, I let the warmth of the treat seep into me.

  “Eat,” she said, sliding the plate of pastries closer while picking up her own cup to check the label on the side to make sure it was the correct way she took her coffee.

  I was halfway through a cherry danish when she grabbed a folder off her desk, coming back to the couch.

  The sound of my swallow was audible, and my fingers tightened around the cup. I knew where this was going. This was why I’d been avoiding coming here.

  I couldn’t avoid it forever. I missed Ivory. She was relatively new to our family, but it didn’t matter. I tended to get easily attached to people, something Earth always warned me against. I even knew it was a bad idea… but my heart didn’t seem to want to listen to my head.

  Somehow I felt like I was searching… always searching for family. Even after I found the misfits, there was still this echo of loneliness inside me. I didn’t understand it, so I often ignored it, but sometimes it snuck up when I least expected.

  Placing her knees slightly to the side, her ankles crossed delicately near the floor, Ivory slipped the folder onto the coffee table between us.

  “I can’t keep putting off all these offers, Fletcher.”

  Abandoning the almost devoured bread and glancing longingly at the hot chocolate, I turned toward her. “You don’t have to. I already told you no.”

  A delicate startled sound echoed in her throat. “You can’t possibly mean that.”

  “I do,” I rebuked, not a hint of doubt in my tone.

  “I don’t understand.” Her brow furrowed, and she opened up the folder to a stack of neat papers.

  Offers. All of them were offers.

  Offers I rejected when she asked me the first and second times.

  “You love to play the violin, Fletch. You are so good at it. Ever since you played at my streetwear couture show, people have been clamoring to hire you.”

  Glancing down at the fisted hands in my lap, I answered, “I’m not a professional violin player.”

  “You could be.”

  My stomach twisted. A dark feeling curled up from the bottom of my feet. “I don’t want to be.”

  “Then why did you play at my show?”

  “Because you asked me to,” I said quietly. “Because Neo was also there.”

  Because I wanted to know what it was like just once to play on a stage.

  It was amazing. Incredible. Like a world all my own.

  Her voice was patient and even reassuring. “We’ll be at each of these events that are wanting to hire you.”

  “I don’t even understand why your fancy friends want to hire me. It’s not like I’m like them,” I muttered, anger building in my chest.

  “They aren’t my friends. Not really. Just work acquaintances, people from my social circle.”

  I gave her a pointed look as though she’d just proved what I was saying.

  She sighed. “You’re talented. You’re a new attraction. You’re like an undiscovered genius. People like that. They want to show off that they… have access to things other people don’t.”

  “I’m not a zoo attraction.”

  “I’ve seen you eat,” she deadpanned.

  I laughed. Ivory always said none of us had manners. Humor died quickly, though, because it was overshadowed by all the other undercurrents I felt. “No.”

  “Fletcher. These are lucrative deals. Thousands of dollars in income. You won’t have to play in the subway anymore. You won’t have to steal.”

  “I like playing in the subway,” I argued. It was true. I did. It was my place. A… safe place.

  She pushed more. “This is an opportunity for a better life. A job you’re good at.”

  “I like my life the way it is,” I insisted.

  “You deserve better.”

  “I said no!” I yelled, shooting up from the sofa. The drinks on the table rattled with the force in which I moved, my voice taking on a deeper, more forceful tone than usual. “I don’t want to do it. I know you all think I’m some little kid who doesn’t have his own thoughts and is… easily swayed, but I will make decisions about my own life. I said no. I meant it.”

  Ivory sat motionless, her eyes wide. I’d never raised my voice at her before. I never really pushed back. Just because I never did didn’t mean I couldn’t.

  I wasn’t as dopey as everyone thought I was. I was tired of saying no.

  Her red lips parted, then pressed together only to part again. “I understand. I’ll let everyone know.”

  I nodded once, not even satisfied I’d won. Heat crept up the back of my neck along with a pinch of guilt because of the way I yelled at her.

  “I’m sorry—” I started, but she jumped up, cutting off the apology.

  “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed. You said no. I should have respected that. I just worry about you. And this is good income.”

  “Money isn’t everything.” />
  “You’re right. It’s not,” she said softly. I knew she wanted to say more, but she bit back the words. “I just want you to be happy.”

  My heart pinched. “I am.”

  She looked up, her blue eyes somehow staring deep. “Are you really?”

  I felt my Adam’s apple bob while an odd feeling wormed around inside me. “Of course.”

  Nodding, Ivory closed the lid on the folder and carried it away, jamming it under some stuff on her desk.

  “I’d better go. I told Earth I’d help with the bar tonight.”

  “I’ll have Charles call a cab for you.”

  “No. I can get home myself.”

  She didn’t argue, even though I knew she wanted to.

  Surging forward, I wrapped my arms around her waist and hugged her tight. “Don’t be mad!”

  A soft laugh escaped her, and she returned the hug. “I’m not mad.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Feeling less heavy, I pulled back, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Take your hot chocolate.” She reminded me, pointing to the cup. The whipped cream had melted, so I snapped on the lid sitting nearby.

  Before picking up the cup, I shoved the rest of the danish in my mouth. “Rank roo,” I called, taking the drink and my violin case.

  “Dinner soon!”

  I nodded enthusiastically because my hands were full and I couldn’t wave. Inside the elevator, I set the case at my feet and sighed.

  I didn’t really have to help Earth at the bar tonight, but I wanted to escape. Something I’d never really wanted to do before, not with Ivory anyway.

  But I didn’t want to explain that when it came to me and the violin, there was an oddly fine line between love and hate.

  3

  Ethan

  * * *

  The dull ache behind my eyes and tight muscles at the base of my skull taunted me as I stepped into Central Park, a forest within the city that was currently aglow with autumn. Crisp air swirled around, lazily waltzing among the aged, sturdy trees draping overhead with a kaleidoscope of burnished colors. Golden sunlight filtered through where the trees had surrendered their leaves, sharing their brilliant foliage with the ground underfoot.