“No, it’s just cool, you know, that they’re worried.” Roux drew a small pattern with her toe on the coffee-dripped floor. “It’s cool, I get it.”
“I’ll call you immediately after I talk to Jesse,” I said. “Go shower and do homework or something.”
She rolled her eyes but followed me to the front door. “I’m staying in bed all day and eating french fries,” she told me. “I have to build up some strength so I can Cyrano you through this Jesse fling.”
“Thing,” I corrected her. “It’s a thing, not a fling.”
“Whatever. Go errand run.” She waved me away. “And tell Harold that I’m going to make his life miserable if he doesn’t smile at you every time you come over.”
I had no plans to tell Harold anything, but I just said, “Okay,” and let myself out the front door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Roux yelled behind me and even after the door shut, I could hear her giggling.
Chapter 15
The car glided up to the front of the museum on Seventieth Street, and I climbed out before the driver could open the back door. No point in both of us getting soaked. There was hardly anyone in the front hallway, save for a tall, gray-haired man with his hands clasped behind his back, casually standing next to the admissions table like he had done it every day for his entire life.
Which, knowing Angelo, he probably had.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I said when I was close to him.
He glanced down at me and smiled. “You look like a drowned rat.”
“Drowned rats have broken umbrellas,” I replied. “I read it in a fortune cookie once.”
“Ah, of course.” He took out his wallet, even though the sign said it was “pay what you can” Sunday, and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. “Will this cover the young lady and myself?” he asked the girl behind the admissions desk.
“Y-yes,” she stammered. “Um, yes, of course.”
“Lovely. It’s always nice to support the arts.” Angelo took our tickets and then led me through the front of the museum into the courtyard, where a large marble fountain gurgled and bubbled. It was a little humid in the room, and dozens of white orchids grew up from the ground. “Hothouse much?” I asked as I sank down on one of the marble benches.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Angelo asked. “The renovations were well worth it. It’s so important to stay up to date and modern.”
“So says the man with the Olivetti typewriter,” I teased him, grinning when he smiled down at me. “Here,” I added, and passed him the flash drive. “I found this in a safe at the Oliver house. I’m not sure what’s on it, but it was pretty well hidden.”
“Stay modern, but remember the classics,” he amended. I’ll remind you that I also have a laptop. And well done, you. The Collective and I will have a look as soon as possible.” Then he paused before saying, “So I hear there’s a bit of discord between you and your parents.”
I sighed and looked toward Angel, the bronze Angel statue on one side of the courtyard. It was pointing directly at me, almost accusing. You kissed a boy! it would probably say if it could talk. You’re supposed to be working. For shame!
“Here’s the thing about my parents,” I said. “They want me to do this job, right? They want me to do a great job. I want to do a great job. The entire free world wants me to do a great job. But when I actually do my job, they freak out. I can’t win.”
Angelo nodded a little and adjusted his cufflinks, both engraved with calligraphied As. “The thing is, my love, you are their daughter first and a spy second.”
“It usually feels like the opposite, though. Like, last night was the first time that I ever hung out with kids my own age. And it was fun. It was awesome. There was a Halloween party, but I was still doing my job and it was like—”
“Living in California three years ago ruined your grammar,” Angelo interrupted with a sigh.
“—so cool,” I continued. “But Angelo, that shouldn’t have been the first party I’ve ever gone to. There should have been a lot more. My parents can’t decide now that they want me to be normal when they’ve spent my entire life making sure I’m anything but.”
“Yes, I agree.” Angelo nodded. “You raise an excellent point.”
“Really?”
“Certainly.” He watched as two tourists made their way through the garden, pointing at the fountain along the way. “Do you see them?”
“Do you know them? Are they assassins?”
“No, they are most likely not assassins. I have never met them before. But they seem to be perfectly lovely and normal people, yes?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Some people, they have ordinary lives. They go to school, get married, raise children, whatever they wish. Nothing very exciting will happen, just the beautiful mundanity of life. But you, Maggie, you can have an extraordinary life because you have an extraordinary gift.” He looked down at me, his icy blue eyes still as warm as they have always been. “You have a talent that many people would love to possess. Would you give it all up to have a normal life?”
“Sometimes, maybe,” I murmured. “I don’t know. I just wish my parents would trust me to do my job.”
Angelo took a deep breath and looked up at the skylight. “Do you remember,” he said slowly, “when you came to my house dressed up for Halloween?”