The Cartographers(58)

But maybe if they tried again, they wouldn’t make the same mistake.

This was a really bad idea.

The nervous waterfall rush in his ears drowned out the thought. Nell was looking at him not quite full on now, as if suddenly able to read his mind. Or perhaps his body was telegraphing what he was thinking, as obvious as if it were a map, and she was an expert at that. She’d had years of reading this one, after all.

He waited, but she didn’t turn away. She didn’t make some excuse to run to the bathroom or rush to open the door for him. Felix felt his armpits growing damp with anxiety, his heart flailing desperately in his chest until he was light-headed.

Don’t do it.

Tomorrow would be proof he was right. That she could choose the future over the past, him over the map, and they could make it work this time. He’d go to her father’s event and see her hand the man’s last project to Irene and finally be free of it, with his own eyes.

Don’t do it.

Tomorrow they could start over.

Don’t—

He grabbed her into the kiss.





XIV




Nell hung up the phone and went back to staring at the clock, willing it to skip the ten minutes it had left and jump to five o’clock already.

She was still technically on bereavement leave until tomorrow, but she’d been dreading the mountain of orders at work she knew would be waiting for her and had decided to duck into Classic a day early to make a start—Sundays were always slow. And she’d also needed a reason to get out of her apartment before she wore a hole in the floor from her impatient pacing. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough.

But she hadn’t expected Humphrey to be there, too.

She thought he was going to send her back home, but instead, he gave a cry of relief and invited her in. The power was out, he’d explained. And the copier was broken, and the plumbing was clogged. And . . .

They’d spent the day on the phone with repair technicians, every new call uncovering another problem. The place was falling apart. Nell couldn’t understand why they didn’t just move to another office, but Humphrey waved her off whenever she tried to bring it up. “I have my reasons,” he’d say, and that was the end of it.

Nell looked at the clock again, and sighed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this impatient for anything,” Humphrey said then as he came out of his office, startling her.

“It’s a big deal,” she replied. “My father’s past with me notwithstanding, he deserves it.”

Humphrey smiled. “Then you’d be proud, not anxious. You have a date.”

“What?” Nell cried.

“Nice try,” he laughed. “I have four sisters.”

The memory of last night rushed over Nell again, sending her pulse racing. She’d steeled herself when Humphrey had asked her how she’d been holding up, hoping she looked as grumpy as usual, but he’d seen right through her. “Look at you!” he’d hooted. “Who is this mystery Prince Charming?”

Nell had vehemently denied it, but Humphrey couldn’t be convinced. He’d spent the rest of the afternoon humming various love songs, as jubilant as if she were getting married.

“I’m trying not to let my imagination blow it out of proportion,” Nell finally allowed.

“Hey.” He pointed at the clock above them. “It’s five o’clock.”

Finally! She jumped up as Humphrey disappeared toward the printer room, chuckling to himself. She fixed her hair, cursing its unruliness, and then shoved everything from her desk back into her bag. Makeup, keys, phone—and her father’s portfolio.

She glanced over her monitor to make sure Humphrey was still around the corner, and then slowly held the portfolio up in front of her.

This was it. She touched the warm, supple leather. As hard as it was for her to let go, this was the end of her investigation. All she had to do was turn over the map to Irene, let the police take over looking for Wally, and put the whole thing from her mind. After all, she’d have plenty to concentrate on in its place: negotiating the terms of her return to work at the library, giving her notice here at Classic, and reclaiming her life and her career.

And her relationship with Felix.

A grin had crept onto her lips yet again, she realized, and she desperately forced it down before Humphrey returned.

Poor Humphrey. Even though Classic was not the right place for her, she still owed him so much. He’d given her a job when no one else would and tolerated her endless complaining about their products for seven long years. Maybe she could work something out with Swann to send him scans of some of the library’s maps he didn’t already have in his inventory, to spare him the expensive licensing fees. That was the least she could do—she’d have to think of more.

It was still hard to believe that after tonight, she might no longer be just a design technician for knockoff art. And all she had to do was the easiest thing in the world—nothing. Just hand over the gas station highway map. The Agloe map, as she’d started thinking of it now that she knew its secret.

Her gaze drifted down to her desk—where she realized she’d been doing it again. Doodling little fragments of the Agloe map on her drafting paper throughout the day, as if by instinct. Like it was a part of her, a map she’d created herself and knew by heart, rather than something she’d found.