I was starting to feel more and more comfortable in my own skin.
Every Sunday, Cas and I headed down to the gym to box; Bob had shown me a small storage room where I could change in peace, being the only girl there.
Caspian always spent Saturdays with his family, but we’d occasionally wander around the city together, and he always accompanied me when I played the violin.
He knew the city like the back of his hand—especially the quiet, delicious little holes-in-the-wall.
“What’s your plan for your brother?” he asked while we were eating at a tiny Chinese place.
“I’m paying the bills, and as soon as I have enough, I’ll pay for the treatment that might help him wake up,” I said.
“I was actually just there yesterday, and they told me they’d made a mistake last time—all the costs for the next quarter are already settled.” I smiled.
“So now I can start saving even more to get him back as soon as possible.”
“That’s great news,” Cas said with a smile.
“Does he have red hair, too?”
“No, my mom had red hair,” I said.
“My dad always used to say he could spot her hair in any crowd, no matter how big.” I laughed.
“Maybe now I’ll even buy the new volume,” I shared.
“It’s a shame the other two volumes are still missing from my collection.”
“Did you check the used bookstores?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I did, but the price is pretty steep.
The first volume had a very small print run, and since the author became famous, the value has skyrocketed.”
“Did you ever get a book signed by him?” he asked.
I nodded.
“The third volume, the one titled The Heartless Half-wit.”
“What did you have him write in it?” he asked curiously.
“To the red-headed Ginger, Sincerely,” I answered.
“Do you know how he does signings?” I asked.
Cas shook his head.
“I’ve never had him sign anything for me.”
“He sits inside a booth separated by a curtain, and people line up,” I explained.
“You write what you want signed on a slip of paper, slide the book and the note behind the curtain, move along, and he slides it back out on the other side of the table.” I laughed.
“He didn’t say a single word, but I talked to him anyway.
In my defense, I wasn’t even sixteen yet.”
“What did you say to him?” he asked, intrigued.
“I thanked him for writing and told him his books brighten my days, and I asked him to please include a red-headed girl in one of his books someday.” Cas burst out laughing.
“And what if the redhead turns out to be the villain?” he asked.
“I don’t care,” I said.
“As long as I can recognize myself in some way, I’d find it entertaining.” I laughed.
“Back then, I used to dream that if he was a man, I’d be his wife and help him with his books.
Though Victor would have killed me if I’d married an old man.
In my defense—I’ll say it again—I wasn’t even sixteen.”
“With your spelling, the author would really have his work cut out for him,” he teased.
“Does your aunt know the author?” I asked curiously.
He nodded with a smile.
“My mom nags her about it constantly, but Aunt Estelle won’t spill.” He laughed.
“All I know is that he’s a guy.”
“I would have guessed a woman,” I admitted.
“That’s why I gave up on my marriage plans.” I laughed.
“Why?” he asked.
“I thought so because a man would only write a male detective, not an equal female partner.
One where the woman actually outshines him sometimes,” I laughed.
“But if your aunt says it’s a man, then it’s a man.”
“Maybe the writer is married, or knows a woman who serves as a model for a worthy partner,” Cas said.
I nodded.
“You might be right.
But if your aunt ever slips up, tell me.”
“I can’t even get her drunk enough to talk,” Cas laughed.
“Aunt Estelle doesn’t drink.
What makes you think the guy is too old for you?”
“I was fourteen when his first book came out,” I said.
“And even if the guy started writing in his twenties, he’s still at least ten years older than me.”
“You’ve thought all of this through, haven’t you?” Cas asked, laughing.
I nodded.
“I concluded that if he isn’t a woman, he’s definitely married and old,” I said.
“Though as I said, I wasn’t even sixteen.”
“Aunt Estelle mentioned that the guy keeps his identity secret because of his family,” Cas shared.
“Then he’s definitely married and too old for me,” I decided.
Cas just laughed.