The Dark Glamour (666 Park Avenue 2) by Gabriella Pierce Page B

the skin on her arms rise in goose bumps even though Dee was making the whole thing up.
She’s really good.
‘You should have called the police,’ Harris told Dee gently, rubbing her upper arms reassuringly. Jane clapped her hands over her own upper arms. ‘But of course I’m always happy to come play hero for the two of you,’ he added, flashing his wide, easy smile that never failed to make Jane want to smile back.
    His bright green eyes met hers and narrowed curiously for a moment. Jane inhaled and looked away as casually as she could manage, feeling a familiar heat rising in her cheeks.
He’s so close,
a rebellious part of her thought, and she felt an intense longing to just tell him who she was.
    ‘We know,’ Dee assured Harris, moving the plate out to the side and leaning her body a little closer in to his. ‘Thank you so much.’
    ‘I guess, now that we’re all safe again, I’ll go back to bed,’ Jane made herself say.
Normal people have normal lives, and I want that for them. And once I fix things with Lynne, I’ll be able to have that, too. Or something more like it, anyway.
The thoughts sounded hollow, and she shrugged her shoulders irritably, feeling a dull ache in their tired muscles.
    ‘I should, too, actually,’ Dee admitted guiltily. ‘This Kate woman called earlier; she’s starting a catering company and heard I did pastry.’ She glanced back at the food-covered surfaces of the kitchen. ‘I guess we can call tonight “interview prep”.’
    ‘That’s great!’ Jane told her warmly. ‘I had no idea. Let me know if I can help at all.’
Like lend you clothes that we’re both a little too tall for now, or act like a stranger off the street who adores your cakes, or snuggle with your new boyfriend. Or anything.
She smiled ruefully at her hopelessly one-track mind. It would get better once Harris and his pesky magical blood were a safe distance away, and then, she knew, she would be able to be properly happy about how Dee was getting her life together post-Hurricane Jane. Right now she could settle for ignoring her baser impulses and acting the part of a good friend.
    ‘I’ll let you two sleep, then,’ Harris offered gallantly, heading for the door but detouring towards the kitchen. ‘Although, if you could spare a little something for the long, lonely subway ride . . .’
    ‘I’ll wrap the cookies for you,’ Dee suggested, and Jane had to fight the urge to kick her in the shin. Following a short flurry of activity in the kitchen and a good-natured wave, Harris was gone. When Dee closed the door behind him, Jane felt her body finally relax.
    Dee turned and raised an awkward black eyebrow at Jane. ‘Ella?’ Jane asked, a little incredulously. ‘Like
Ella Enchanted?’
    ‘Like “she”, in Spanish,’ Dee admitted sheepishly. ‘My mind went blank. But use the “enchanted” thing if you ever write your memoirs or something, okay?’
    ‘It’s a deal,’ Jane promised, making a long-overdue beeline for the kitchen.

Ten
    T HE HEAVY, CARVED-WOOD doors of number 665 swung open, and Jane jolted to attention. She had been staking the place out from a Starbucks across the street, set a little bit back on Sixty-Eighth Street, from about nine that morning, but so far hadn’t seen a single useful thing. A couple of the youngest McCarrolls, the grandchildren of Lynne’s cousin Cora, had left with a nanny shortly after Jane had started watching. Blake Helding, the son of Cora’s twin, Belinda, had staggered in around ten thirty in what looked an awful lot like last night’s clothes. But between then and almost noon, she had seen nothing but comings and goings through the staff entrance, and she was starting to feel both discouraged and over-caffeinated.
    Jane leaned forward towards the window, checking automatically to make sure her sunglasses were still in place. It was probably overkill, since she had acquired a completely different face and body since the last time she had seen