“Come on, you two. Show us some of that magic,” the photographer shouted. At the crowd’s urging, Sam wrapped his arm around Evie’s shoulder and pulled her in close.
“Beauuuutiful! Give us a big smile—say ‘Cheers.’”
“Cheers!” Sam said, showing his teeth.
“Four weeks,” Evie said, gritting hers.
“That was ducky,” Mr. Phillips said a few minutes later, pumping Sam’s hand after he and Evie had posed for several more pictures with the WGI letters featured prominently above their heads. “Just ducky!”
“Wasn’t it, though?” Sam agreed. Behind Mr. Phillips, Evie glared at Sam.
“Go home and rest up before your big date tonight,” Mr. Phillips said on his way out. “You lovebirds will be out every night. Oh, and of course you’ll be sure to mention WGI.”
“Every chance I get,” Sam promised.
“Evie, I like this young man of yours,” Mr. Phillips said, his parting shot.
Evie gave her boss a bright smile, which faded as soon as he was gone. “‘Every chance I get’?”
Sam shrugged. “People are like puppies. You just have to know how to scratch their tummies. Speaking of…”
Evie cut her eyes at him. “You’re not getting near my tummy.”
“Don’t worry. My ticklers are put away. I need to speak to you. Privately.”
“Follow me,” Evie said with a heavy sigh.
Sam let out a whistle as Evie led him down the gilded halls of WGI. “This is some place.”
“Don’t get too sentimental about it. You have a limited engagement here.” Evie smiled sweetly at the coat-check girl. “Mildred, darling, do you mind if we borrow the shop for a few minutes?”
“Of course not,” Mildred said, slipping out through the half door. “Anything for you two lovebirds.”
Evie hung the BACK IN FIVE MINUTES sign outside the door and shut both halves. She leaned against the rack of coats with her arms folded across her chest. “You have two minutes, Sam.”
“I’ll dispense with the charm, then.”
“That was charm? Ha!”
“I’ve brought you a present, future Mrs. Lloyd.”
“Future Mrs. Lloyd,” Evie scoffed. “Gee, now I kinda hope you brought me cyanide.”
“I hear that’s the first-anniversary present. Here.” He handed Evie the envelope. “Whaddaya make of this?”
She turned it upside down, confused. “It’s empty, Sam.”
“No kidding. Turn it over. That particular empty envelope is addressed to my mother. Sent by Will’s dead lover.”
Evie frowned. “Where did you find this?”
“Here’s where it gets interesting. I found it in a dusty old crate pulled up from the cellar of your uncle’s museum.”
“On the level, Sam?”
“My right hand to God.”
“Why would Unc—why would Will have this?”
“That was my question. I need your reading services, Sheba.”
“Oh, Sam. Now?”
“A deal’s a deal, Lamb Chop,” Sam said pointedly.
Evie closed her eyes and pressed the envelope between her palms. The envelope was old and hadn’t been touched by anyone other than Sam for some time. To dig into its secret past, she’d really need to work at it, and Evie didn’t feel like having a throbbing headache for the next hour. “Sorry, Sam. Nothing’s coming up.”
“Try harder.”
“I did try!”
“Don’t give me that wad of chewing gum. You barely broke a sweat.”
“There’s something defective about your objects, Sam. It’s just like when I tried to read the postcard in your jacket—” Evie clapped a hand over her mouth as she remembered a second too late that she had never told Sam about that.
“You what?” Sam’s eyes narrowed. “First you take my jacket, then you read my postcard? Why, you little—”
“I was curious!”
“That was my private property, sister!”
“YOU STOLE MY TWENTY DOLLARS!” Evie yelled.
The coat-check girl’s voice came from the other side of the closed door. “Everything copacetic in there?”
“Just ducky!” Sam shouted back. To Evie, he said, “So you couldn’t get a read from my mother’s postcard?”
“I just told you that, didn’t I?”
The muscles at Sam’s jaw tightened. “Look here: I’m gonna ignore the business with the postcard. But you owe me a good read on this one.”
