The Dollhouse(66)

She laughed and righted herself. “Sorry about that.”

The driver swerved into a different lane and they banged shoulders once again, but this time she stayed where she was. She liked the sensation of his muscled arm against hers. He took her hand in his. “You have beautiful fingers.”

“Thanks.”

The kiss was simple, easy, tasting of wine and sweetness. He didn’t do anything but touch his lips to hers, ever so softly, then pull back and wait to see her reaction.

“Jason,” she said. “We shouldn’t.”

He lifted his head, smiling. “You’re absolutely right. That was awful.”

The cab was nearing Sixty-Third Street. “This is fine. I’ll get out here.”

“Are you sure? We can drop you off at the front door.”

She didn’t want to explain why she couldn’t go in that way, and the fire in her body was not to be trusted.

“Yes. Have a great night, and thanks again.”




Rose was still thinking about Jason when she tripped over Miranda in the stairwell of the Barbizon.

She’d collected Bird for his last walk of the night and was rounding the third-floor landing at a good clip when a pair of jean-clad legs stopped her in her tracks. The girl sat sideways on the top stair, one leg stretched out, the other foot resting on the stair below. Her back was pressed up against a blue-green mosaic embedded in the wall. The painted tiles might have once depicted a churning sea or a lively reef teeming with fish, but time and bleach had worn the animation away. Miranda’s hair curled out prettily against the faded glaze. She had her earphones in and stared down at the screen of her phone, which was cobwebbed with cracks. At Rose’s gasp, she looked up.

“Jesus.” Miranda pulled out an earphone. “You almost knocked me over.”

“Sorry, I didn’t see you.” Rose’s voice was higher than normal, weak. She was trapped, and only a couple of seconds went by before recognition flickered over the girl’s face.

“Rose.”

“Miranda.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I promised a neighbor I’d walk her dog while she’s away.”

The tough teenager from the park had transformed back into a kid. The makeup had been scrubbed off, and an oversize blue hoodie overwhelmed her thin frame. The rims of her eyes were red, but it was hard to tell if that was from crying or a heavy hand with the makeup remover. Her left hand was dug deep in the pocket of her hoodie. Hiding something.

Miranda stared at the ball of fur in Rose’s arms. “Can I pet the dog?”

“Sure.” Rose knelt down and put him on the floor of the landing, where he sniffed the air before placing a tentative paw on Miranda’s thigh.

“He’s cute.” She gave his paw a shake. “My mother won’t like the fact that you’re here.”

Rose resisted the temptation to say that she’d been here first. “This is the last walk,” she lied. “Then I’ll be gone. What are you doing here?”

The girl pulled an e-cigarette out of her pocket. “You want a hit?”

“What’s in it?”

“Vape. Tastes like cotton candy.”

“I don’t get it. Why don’t you just eat cotton candy instead?”

She rolled her eyes. “Jesus. You sound like Dad.”

“Yeah, I’ll try it.” Had it come to this? Fake smoking in stairwells with Griff’s kid. Anything to keep her talking and not snitching.

Miranda swung her legs around and held up the e-cigarette. Rose perched on the stair beside her and took a small hit, then made a face as the vapor rolled over her tongue. “Tastes like cotton candy that’s been dipped into a vat of chemicals.”

Miranda laughed and lifted the e-cig from Rose’s fingers. “You get used to it.”

“How are you, Miranda?”

“Fine.” She scratched at one of the tiles on the wall. It fell off easily, along with tiny flakes of plaster. “If you don’t mind being mental.”

“You’re not mental.”

“Oh, please. Like you have any idea. Don’t sit here with me trying to be cool so that I won’t tell them that I saw you. It’s too pathetic.”

She was right. Rose had lost her mind. “Look, I was trying to be nice. Your dad and I . . .” She trailed off. What was there to say?

“He dumped you. I heard.”

“What did you hear?”

Miranda gave a tense smile, pleased to have the upper hand. “Look. My father will never leave my mother now. And not because of my fucked-up problems. He used you as arm candy when you were on TV. Dating a hot future anchorwoman was good for his image back then. But for the job he wants now, he has to be a family man. Griff Van Doren has large ambitions. You were just a phase. A blip.”

The truth hit her with a thud. He needed his ex-wife’s connections if he was going to take City Hall. Connie’s family ran in the right circles, could influence his race for mayor. In ways both positive and negative.

Rose scooped up Bird and stood. “I gotta go.”

Miranda let out a guttural sigh. “Don’t be mad, Rose. Trust me, I’m on your side. It’s better for me if they’re split up. Easier to manipulate the situation, get what I want.”