ALEX
After speaking with Margery, I step into the foyer and rub my hand over my forehead. It wasn’t a bad night for sales. It wasn’t a good night either.
People who recognize me say their goodbyes as they pass, congratulating me on a successful closing night. I watch them disappear into their waiting carriages, leaning against the wall until the stragglers are all that’s left.
Already, the theater maids are sweeping the foyer and gathering programs that have been discarded.
I think about my dilemma, tossing it around in my mind. I could easily fund the show without Charles. Already, Mr. Kipling from the bank said he’d invest, and Lord Miller confirmed he’s interested as well.
But Candace would fill the seats every night.
“You look pensive, Mr. Devereaux,” Madame Corsavina says from her booth. She sits back in her chair, her arms crossed under her lacy red shawl.
I turn to her, startled she’s still here. “Is that your professional opinion?”
She smiles as she taps her long, red nails against her arm. “Shall I tell you your fortune?”
Pushing away from the wall, I say, “Not tonight.”
“I met Frederick’s new friend.”
I frown. “And?”
She crooks her finger, telling me to come over if I want to know.
With a sigh, I join her. The woman is infuriating, but the patrons like her, so I try to humor her as much as possible.
Not satisfied with me hovering nearby, she points to one of the stools across from her.
I sit, clasping my hands on the tabletop. With a smile, I say, “Happy?”
“She’s not human.”
“What?” I ask sharply. “Then what is she?”
“What else could she be?”
Leaning forward, I demand, “How do you know?”
“How do you think?” She extends her hands in the air and flicks her wrists with a flourish. “Magic.”
I roll my eyes. “How do you really know?”
The woman laughs with dark amusement. “I’m observant.”
“What does she want with Frederick?”
“How should I know?”
I stand, preparing to walk away. “I pay you too much.”
“Alex.” She catches my arm. “Choose a coin.”
“Enough with your coins. I’m not a fool—they’re all the same.”
She snatches one from her purple pouch, showing me the outline of a heart on the backside.
“Except that one,” I say wryly.